Time to rest my bones

The last day was bliss. My parents had driven down to Cornwall and had taken the bags off our bikes; after two weeks, we finally had a support car. With the weight removed from my beleaguered back wheel, the tandem was a dream. I sped up the hills, my now mutant thighs making short work of the climbs, and then flew down the other side, enjoying gears I hadn’t realised existed before. The Claud Butler racing tandem, the “Majestic Two”, was finally getting to spread its wings. The sun was out, and King Arthur (the skeleton) was getting to feel the wind in his… chest cavity. We arrived at Land’s End in no time.

Most days weren’t like that. No sir, most days weren’t like that at all.

It all started at some point in September or October last year. I was derping around on the Internet when I stumbled upon a site called ‘Recordsetter’. It’s kind of like a crowd-sourced Guinness Book of Records. You choose your record, you record yourself doing it, and if the RecordSetter community decides that it’s legit: hey presto, you’re a world record holder.

I was impressed. I tweeted something obnoxious at them, like “ZOMG awesome website bro!” [Sadly I can’t go back far enough to find the tweet]. They replied suggesting that I try to set a record. They suggested trying to break one of their cycling records.

I found one that I liked, set in 1987 by an American called Art Hoffman. He had cycled 437 miles on a tandem with a skeleton on the back to raise awareness about the dangers of smoking.

“I could beat that,” I thought, and thus started down a path that would lead to me standing on Dartmoor in the middle of a storm, staring down a great big horned cow, with a tandem and skeleton in tow.

My preparations for the cycle were abysmal. Pretty much the only useful thing I did was persuade Sioni, an experienced cyclist, to come with me. People would ask me, “How’s training going?” and I would laugh, say “Errr, not bad” and then make a mental note to lie more convincingly next time. Before setting off on the trip, I had been on the tandem fewer than ten times. And no more than three of those times were with the skeleton. I had never in my life cycled more than 50 km in one day. Simply put, I had no idea if the bikes, the skeleton, or my body would last the entire journey, or make it in the time we allotted.

I quickly discovered that the bike was much too small for me; that the handlebars were atrociously uncomfortable; and that even a Brooks saddle will do horrendous things to your backside if you haven’t broken it in.

There wasn’t really a point, you see, where I had made a conscious decision to do this cycle. I thought it would be cool to break a record; I thought it would be fun to cycle John O’Groats to Land’s End; it felt right to raise money for Imperial scholarships, to help other people have the opportunity to attend the university that had given me so much. But to be honest, when I found myself in possession of a borrowed skeleton and a tandem, I thought, “Oh dear, I’m actually going to have to do this now” – it felt churlish at that point to turn back.

And boy were there a lot of times when I wanted to turn back, to stop, to sack it all in. The two hazy, fever-afflicted days in and around Herefordshire; when Arthur snapped at the spine and I had to carry him on my back for 30 miles; every time I went up a hill; every time I came down a valley and understood that, like a Lannister, I would have pay that debt back on the other side. And, of course, I wanted to turn back when I encountered cow-zilla on Dartmoor.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to try and cycle across Dartmoor. I mean, nothing about cycling the entire length of the UK with your mate’s skeleton on a tandem from the 80s is a good idea. But cycling across Dartmoor in particular was a dreadful idea.

It’s been raining all day, Arthur is… puts on sunglasses …soaked to the bone #ohnohedidnt#skeletonfund

— Kadhim Shubber (@skeletonfund) July 12, 2012

The rain wasn’t falling from the sky. It was shooting across the moor into my face as if some great big fireman was spraying his hose across the landscape (eww). The wind wasn’t just blowing, it was straight up sucker punching me in the gut when I least expected it. The hills weren’t just… ok, you get the idea.

But whilst I could deal with being so soaked that I had abandoned the thought that I might ever be dry again, I couldn’t deal with a great big cow suddenly appearing out of the fog in the middle of the road. Sioni was far ahead in the distance; the two deaf cyclists we had passed earlier were surely far behind; and here I was alone, staring down a cow, thinking, “I don’t want to die. But, meh, there are probably less interesting ways to die”.

Of course, we didn’t turn back. Aside from the fear of failure and personal embarrassment and the knowledge that people had donated tons of money and wouldn’t be too impressed with me bailing because my knees hurt a little, what really kept me going was the incredible support we had from so many people.

“Should have looked at the mother first…” - best skeleton joke yet, well done Moffat #skeletonfund

— Kadhim Shubber (@skeletonfund) July 5, 2012

Haha… Just driven past a guy riding tandem bicycle with a skeleton on the back! #wtf#random

— bigawdj (@awhitson123) July 7, 2012

There were the cars that honked and cheered as they overtook. There were the people who let Sioni and I into their homes (and ensured we were suitably hungover in the morning). There were the good guys at Lejogstics in Inverness who fixed the skeleton after suffering total spinal collapse on day 2. Half my equipment, including the skeleton and the pannier bags were lent to me by Reuben Gibbons. The tandem was a loan from Carole and Graham Davies. We had an article on CNET and in local media thanks to John-Paul Jones and the press team at Imperial. Sport Imperial lent me some pro ‘Imperial Wheelers’ kit. Hell, we even had the original record holder Art Hoffman sending us videos of support from the US. There’s a near never-ending list of people who helped make the cycle happen. It felt like some huge cycle convoy making its way down the country, rather than just Sioni and I battling our way through the wind and the rain.

When we arrived at Land’s End the feeling was incredible. I took my hands from the handlebars, lifted my arms into the air, and soaked in the moment (secretly praying I wouldn’t wipe out metres from the finish line). In case the whole trip wasn’t surreal enough, there was a coach-load of Chinese tourists at Land’s End who all wanted photos with us. (As far as I’m concerned, Sioni and I are now national celebrities in China…)

In the end, we cycled a total of 1487.17 km (924 miles) and climbed 15km vertically. It was incredible fun. The UK is more beautiful than I had ever thought.

But anyway, that’s all over now. My knees still ache quite a bit, but I think that’s to do with the fact that I haven’t done a moment of exercise since getting off the tandem for the last time. I’m now a world record holder. It took 25 years for someone to break Art Hoffman’s record; hopefully it’ll be much sooner before someone breaks mine. Ultimately, we raised £3,000 for the Rector’s Scholarship Fund; money that will help some anonymous student who would otherwise be scraping along, worrying about every penny he or she spent. Who knows, maybe he or she will end up reading this article, in which case, let me say this: I hope you use that money to have the fullest university experience you can possibly have. Every time you think, “nah, I can’t do that”, remember my sorry ass in the middle of Dartmoor, grab that opportunity by the fucking cow horns, and go have some fun.

Thanks Joel, Marija, Jane, Maisie, and Paul for letting us couch surf in their homes. Thanks to Alastair, Josh, Sophie, Jade, Ed, Ben, and Simon’s nan Margaret for hosting us in their homes - and thanks to their families too. Thanks to Greg for writing us a song, to Ken for doing us a sketch, and to Matt for the MS Paint masterpieces. Thanks to Neil Mosley and Sports Imperial for lending me some kit. Thanks to Jamie, Toby, and Charles for lending us their GoPros. Thanks to Elizabeth Atkin, Miranda Seymour, Rosalind Griffin, Simon Watts, John-Paul Jones and everyone else in the College who supported us. Thanks to Jonathan Kim for building us the website. Thanks to all those who donated. Thanks especially to Sioni Summers for coming with me, to Reuben Gibbons for lending the skeleton, and to Carole and Graham Davies for lending the tandem, it would have been impossible without you. Thanks to my parents and my family for their unceasing support. I hope I haven’t missed anyone, but if I have I’ll update it online. Thank you all so much.

For more photos, and to see a day by day account of the trip:

Twitter.com/SkeletonFund Facebook.com/SkeletonFund www.SkeletonFund.com

Also, check out Josh’s Storifys of the trip. Therearefiveofthem.

You can still donate at JustGiving.com/TheSkeletonFund