A few months have passed since I rolled into the driveway at my place, completing the longest held ambition I had. One's attentions of course return to the day to day mundaneties of life at the close of such a journey. But with time, my reflections upon what was achieved and the manner in which it was, have fully sunk in. I do feel quite proud of myself, an article in Australian Geographic suggests that an average of 25 people a year complete the track Still, i point with humble thanks to the selfless support I received, both physically and electronically. I could not have completed the trip without this support, but more importantly, it would also have been a FAR lesser trip without it.

The support also afforded me time and space to grieve the loss of my father and come to terms with where this sat with me. I was, as it turned out (perhaps obviously to some close observers), riding the 'Healing Bicycle'. I need time, space and most importantly solitude, to deal with such blows. When I look back at my life to date, the pattern is clear: setback, solo trip, sorted! This 'setback' was rather larger than previous though. The size of the trip, therefore, did seem appropriate! In a funny way, for the first week or so I almost forced the bike to heal. And it did not. This, I knew, was something that I would have to arrive at rather more organically. As the solitude sank in the healing began.

One cannot regret things in life. Yet, I know that if Dad was around he would've joined me for part of the journey. As it was, he did.

Vale Dad. I, as you are, am at peace.