IAN HIBELL RETURNS TO CYCLING

Written by Ian Hibell

Edited and Introduced by Barry and Margaret Williamson

I didn't think anyone would remember me after so long in obscurity. I had been toying with the idea of writing a book, so I could see that a little publicity on the internet would do me no harm at all. I was totally computer-illiterate and thought they were some kind of doorless micro-ovens, and websites were where spiders lurked. I couldn't type and facing a keyboard would induce a cold sweat. I was born so long ago that American Indians were probably still communicating by smoke signals and drums. I found this new world of emails and internet cafes alien. In fact, I was born so far back that mountain bikes hadn't even been invented and I wonder how I ever coped without one.

Before hanging up my wheels, my last major tour to receive magazine coverage was a fund-raising event across Africa for the then Spastic Society (now Scope). First, a tropical disease nearly killed me in Zambia - the Foreign Office were making arrangements to fly my body home - and then my third attack of malaria made the subsequent ride home to England very difficult. Recovery was long and I'd completed most of the major long distance challenges that interested me: all but Russia and China. It seemed unlikely that lone travellers would ever be welcome in either.

During my absence, my father had died and his 400 year old Brixham cottage seemed all set to join him, for it was in a total state of disrepair. It had never truly recovered from losing its roof in a gale. I didn't have far to look for my next challenge and so became a builder and gardener, neither of which I knew too much about.

I was still able to enjoy cycle tours, which took me to all the main South Pacific island groups. On another journey, I visited the Falklands en route to join an ex-Russian ice research vessel on its way to Antarctica and back to Britain. Initially, it traced Shackleton's incredible voyage to South Georgia and then made landings in Tristan da Cunha, St Helena, Ascension Isle, the Cape Verdes and Madeira before docking at Dover. The bicycle was ridden in each of these exotic places, even on the Antarctic Peninsular!

Two more journeys were possible: firstly a ride from Spitzbergen down through Norway to Bergen. I took the last ferry of the season to Lerwick and then, starting from the northernmost point of the Shetlands, made a run down through Orkney to John o'Groats and on to Lands End. Not quite over, the tour was concluded in the Scilly Isles. Then, after a visit to Greenland, I had seen the last of my freedom, for my mother now needed my entire attention. She was worth it, but I didn't have another break of any duration for the 4 years up to her death at the age of 98.

In those difficult 4 years as a 'carer', the furthest I had ridden was a 10-mile round trip and, at the end, I was so hopelessly unfit I couldn't even walk up the local coastal hills without pausing and puffing. My niece Amanda was appalled and forced me to promise to dust and oil my bike and use it. I kept my promise, but soon tired of training around the area I knew so well. The call of unvisited far away places returned, the lure of old. Out came the atlas.

A round the world tour was mapped out in the form of a mopping up operation. There were a few unvisited places, off the previous routes, and so began a 'get fit the pleasurable way' campaign. The first stop was Trinidad and Tobago, the Guianas and Venezuela. After this, a few more South Pacific Isles were most detrimental to my get fit campaign. The beaches were difficult to resist and I came home well tanned but not yet able to frighten a Tour de France rider.

I really needed a tour as far away from palm-fringed beaches as possible, one where a sustained effort would be needed. I rode from the Baltic to the Black Sea (Tallinn in Estonia to Istanbul) through Eastern block countries, all new to me. I came back firing on all cylinders and knew I might just make it to Vladivostok, by bike rather than a wheelchair, if I didn't delay.

Awareness that this ride had been accomplished by many other riders tempered the excitement a little, but it was my final long distance ambition and at 70 the outcome was not assured. Once the decision had been made, it came as a shock to find just how long it would take and the difficulties I had to overcome to get the visa. By the time I was able to set off, it was well into the summer and right from the start it was obviously going to be a journey in two stages, with a distinct possibility of wintering in Siberia.

For a brief account of Ian's ride through Russia, click: Hibell in Russia

For a detailed account of Ian's ride from Bangkok to Hanoi, click: Hibell in SE Asia

For a detailed account of Ian's ride from Hanoi to Vladivostok, click: Hibell in China