Alone in the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, adventurer Jason Lewis stared into the abyss. Ahead of him was the 400-mile inter-tropical convergence zone that sailors call 'the Doldrums'. Behind him was thousands of miles of empty ocean. He found himself at a crossroads in both his epic journey and in life. He was sat in a makeshift wooden pedal boat, with no sails, no engine and nobody to talk to for months. He felt alone, but he wasn’t scared. Instead, it was something else that filled his heart. Pedalling by day and night through the famous counter-current, he drifted back as far as he progressed forward. Tired, hungry and baked by the sun, he was stuck in purgatory, stranded in one of the harshest environments on the planet. How had it come to this?
‘A journey can be either your death or your transformation.’
– Paul Theroux, The Happy Isle of Oceania
The year was 1992. Jason Lewis was with his old college pal Steve Smith, slumped on a kitchen floor in Paris, drinking cans of Kronenbourg. They were brainstorming ideas for an adventure. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, really. Up to this point, both had lived relatively normal lives. Jason was a window cleaner by trade and spent most of his time living in a London squat. Steve was a little more adventurous, but also lived a relatively simple life. Both had something in common though, something that made them strive for change. They were both tired of their lives; sick of the rat race and the mundanity of modern existence. Jason quotes American author Og Mandino: “Most humans… have settled for a life of mediocrity, days of despair and nights of tears. They are no more than living deaths confined to cemeteries of their choice”. There must be something more to life. As they sat there, reminiscing about their college days, they wondered… what could be done that had never been done before. What could be their 'big story', their 'world-first'?
After thumbing through a Guinness Book of World Records, they realised that nobody had ever circumnavigated the globe by human power. Well, how could they? There were two wildly unpredictable oceans to navigate without an engine or even a sail. But they were set. This was the moment they had picked to turn their lives around and break out of the monotonous grind of the 9-to-5. They would do the journey to raise awareness for living a more sustainable life. But for Jason, there was another reason to do this. He wanted to learn about himself. He’d been living an unremarkable life in a London squat for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t particularly fit, he wasn’t particularly healthy, but he had something else: that infectious enthusiasm that every adventurer needs in order to undertake such a wild and unfathomable journey across the world.
‘Nothing will ever be attempted if all possible objections must first be overcome.’
– Samuel Johnson
After two years of painstaking preparation and fundraising, the day had finally come to set off. They had obtained a wooden pedal boat and fittingly named it Moksha, a Hindu phrase meaning ‘release from the cycle of rebirth impelled by the law of karma’. The plan was to split the trip into several stages, the first being cycling from Greenwich to Lagos, Portugal. In Lagos they’d meet Moksha and take the perilous route across the Atlantic, after which they’d cross the USA by whichever means necessary. Then they'd undertake the monstrous pedal across the Pacific Ocean. It was a plan that was equal parts simple, equal parts insane.
All the years of preparation had come down to this moment. But in true English explorer style, they quickly realised they didn’t even know the way out of London. Questions were asked within the first 20 miles. “Are we really going to be able to make it round the planet? I can hardly get beyond Streatham!” Nevertheless they persevered. They made it to Lagos after 6 weeks, spirits high and ready to attack the next section of the trip. However, this wasn’t just a mere crossing of another border or country: this was the Atlantic Ocean.
The 5,641 mile crossing daunted them, but being young and suitably reckless they were ready to tackle the challenge. It would have been a tough job in a sailboat, but on a pedal boat, it was unheard of. They rotated the 24 hours of constant pedalling in short, manageable shifts. As they pedalled out into the deep dark blue, there was to be no time when the boat wasn’t moving. The currents and wind could easily drift them off course, or even backwards.
For the first time in his life and on the journey, Jason began to find purpose and meaning. The testing environment and the vast nothingness of the Atlantic Ocean fascinated Jason as much as it frightened him. He recalls: “At moments like these I regained perspective on what was important. Certainly not my petty grievances about whether or not Steve washed out the hot chocolate mug, or farted like a pig without so much as an 'if you please'.” What mattered was respecting the other person as a fellow human being.
He found the secret to getting through this insane voyage filled with monotony, hunger, anger and creeping grey funk was to fully immerse himself in the present. The more he persevered at the menial and tiring task of pedalling, without thought of past, future or the end result, the greater the sense of fulfillment. Fully immersing yourself in the present is something that stayed with Jason throughout and drove him forward. This was his moment.
Finally, after 111 days at sea, they had reached the new world. America dawned. A new journey began within their already outrageous slog across the globe.
‘What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the winter-time. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.’– Last words of Chief Crowfoot
Greeted on their arrival by a media circus, they planned the next stage of the journey: 2,276 miles from Miami to Pueblo. How would they approach it? To keep the expedition true to its mission, they couldn’t use any form of engine, or non-human power. Steve opted for the bicycle, whilst Jason thought: what better way to cross the great big United States of America than on in-line skates?
Before setting off, they needed to raise funds to help finance the next stage of the journey. Both Steve and Jason remarked how life on land was no easy deal. They’d spent 111 days dreaming of terra firma but in the end, the destination was turning out to be no less of a grind than the perilous journey to get there. After a painful four and a half months of fundraising, Steve and Jason picked a day to leave. They had already questioned how ideal it would be for a bicycle and a skater to go side by side, partly because of the difference in pace, but mainly because despite Jason’s eagerness to skate the USA, he had never actually skated before. Undaunted, he set off with the mindset: “If you can skate a mile, you can skate 4,000 miles”.
It took him three full days before he could stand up fully without fearing for his life at every stride, but he persisted. The dream that had been thought up on a kitchen floor in Paris was becoming something else entirely. The journey continued with Steve and Jason separating, a decision made partly because of the difference in pace between the two modes of transport, andpartly because of growing tensions between the two. They both saw this as an opportunity to get some space from each other. They agreed to meet again in San Francisco, ready to take on the Pacific.
Steve also wanted to spend some time with his new partner Eilbhe, who he’d met on the way to Lagos. Just as the journey was changing, their lives and priorities changed alongside it. Steve would take the southerly route, whilst Jason would head through a mid-country trajectory, before cutting northwest to cross the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. They agreed to rendezvous in San Francisco a couple of months later. At least that was the plan. Little did they know they were destined to meet again, much sooner than anticipated and under much worse circumstances.
Progress was good at first. Jason was hurrying along at around 20 to 30 miles per day. He was still falling over a lot, but he felt that he’d finally got the hang of skating. He made his way towards Colorado, scrimping on food, water and supplies, sleeping on the side of the road most nights, hidden in his ‘buzz off’ bug suit, fighting off marauding fire ants and swathes of mosquitoes. Since Steve had gone, Jason had to carry all of his personal living kit in a midsize backpack, which made the already difficult art of balance on in-line skates a whole different ball game. In this bag he carried the bare essentials: a sleeping bag, bug suit, cooking pot, mug, spoon, water bottle, $120 in cash, and a copy of some slides for his Atlantic voyage, so he could give talks along the way.
Differing from the vast emptiness of the Atlantic, on this stage of the journey he met many wonderful people, questioning how they lived their life in search of the ever elusive ‘American Dream.’ He's struck by a particular piece of advice he receives from an 80-year-old American named Dino: “Take only what you need, and you’ll leave the world much like how you found it”. This motto stuck with Jason for almost 25 years. It still seems a fitting piece of advice, useful for any would-be adventurer, looking to explore the world and preserve the beauty of the planet.
Despite the quick progress, it was rough going. Skating across the Midwest, the heat became a constant issue. He’d have to be up and skating by sunrise every day, to try and get some miles in before the temperature rose. Then there was the difficulty of travelling on highways, dealing with road traffic and the police, not to mention the relentless bugs that would taunt him once the sun dropped behind the horizon. But he kept with him the same mantra that had got him across the Atlantic: fully immerse yourself in the present and the rest will take care of itself. And so he chugged along, eating into the miles of America's vast Midwest.
This time though, he had a deadline. He had to get to San Francisco to catch the right winds and weather to cross the Pacific, and anyway, he didn’t fancy crossing the mountains of Colorado once winter approached. He also felt a duty to Steve, who would likely be having a much quicker and more productive time on his bike. It was these pressures and his eager pace that turned the entire expedition, and his life, on its head.
"When the way ahead is clouded with uncertainty, the safety net is gone, and every iota of logic is howling at you to give up, that is the time to push on regardless, surrendering to the free fall of not knowing. For the universe has an uncanny habit of responding to such blind leaps into the abyss, rising up to meet them halfway. All you have to do is keep an open mind, an open heart, and have faith. The rest is out of your hands."
–Jason Lewis, Dark Waters
It was late in the autumn and Jason had made it to Colorado just as daylight was fading. This was typically when he would set up camp. But the town of Pueblo was just 35 miles away and he had a treat organised: a bed for the night. So he carried on, skating in the heavy rain, digging deep to push for that night out of the elements. By 6:50pm he had made it to the city limits. With only 3 miles to skate, the rain eased up and gave him a short respite to make his target. As he skated down the rain-sodden road towards Pueblo, there was a sudden crash. He felt a huge impact in his back, and then all of a sudden everything went dark. He had been hit by a drunk driver.
He awoke the next day, “reincarnated in a world of tubes”. Tubes in his arms, fingers, legs, nose… every appendage and orifice, it seemed. The saucepan he had in his backpack had cushioned the force of the collision and prevented his spine from being crushed, but he had multiple injuries, including two fractured tibias. He heard the words 'gangrene' and 'amputated' and panicked, not for his health, but for the expedition, the trip and of course Steve. This trip had become more than just a means of escape, a way to break records and live free. It was entwined in every aspect of his life, it gave him meaning, it gave him a purpose. Now all that was in jeopardy.
The doctors told him that it would take months to learn to walk again. The prospect of rollerskating across the western USA seemed a lifetime away. The dream was in tatters, as was his life. But out of the darkness and in this time of need, people pulled through for him. Travelling the world can be a lonely affair at times, but it is also one of life’s great levelers. Unfortunate events, such as this one, expose you to the kindness of strangers and people in general.
When he saw Steve a few days later, he expected to hear: “Rollerblades… I told you so.” But this never came. Steve and Eilbhe arrived and just wished him the best, reassuring him that no matter how long it took him to get well, Steve would be there waiting for him. Jason smiled wryly through the myriad of tubes. It’s in times like these that you really find out what matters in life.
During the following months of recovery, the drunk driver was found thanks to the testimony of a random passerby, so thankfully his insurance would cover Jason’s staggering $110,000 worth of medical bills. Jason was mending with the help of a fully devoted friend in the USA and by June 1996 he finally resumed his trip. He made light work of the skating across western America, arriving in San Francisco just a few months after setting out. He was finally reunited with Steve ready to tackle their greatest challenge: the Pacific Ocean.
—— End of Part 1 ——
— Part 2: Coming Soon —
All quotes are taken from:
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