Leon Steber’s North American Bicycle Journey

In my wildest dreams, I’d do something like Leon Steber did: cycle around North America (that’ll include Canada and Alaska, folks) for almost eight months. Continuously. Without, apparently, much direction. Except, you know, onwards.

I know Leon, in a six-degrees kind of way; he lives right here in Brighton with a work colleague, and when she mentioned his love of biking and his photography, I asked for his website address. As well as taking very nice photos he’s also catalogued his epic journey around the US in the summer of 2004.

This guy’s dedication to a cause is exemplary. Or, possibly, insane. Or both. Not only has he written about every single day he was on the road (although, admittedly, I have no idea if he wrote about events after the fact), he’s also made some fantastic maps that show you his route. (The only tiny, tiny quibble I have is the lack of geographical detail; sometimes it’s hard to remember that he’s passing by mountains, or over huge expanses of nothing. Perhaps he should be introduced to Bikely.)

I find reading the thing incredibly compulsive. Even though I can see the end of his journey on his maps (in Mexico; keep in mind he started in northern California), I keep reading just wondering what he might find down the next stretch of road. Which, incidentally, is generally not a whole hell of a lot; one thing Leon’s journey teaches me is that the US and Canada are filled with a whole lot of nothing. Still, his laconic, casual writing style (almost, I’d guess, an inevitable byproduct of being a Western Australian… nothing phases ‘em) is link-clickingly addictive, and it’s worth reading hundreds of pages to get to long stretches in the remote Yukon, with entries like this:

“Today was the worst. Colder than buggery again. I had far too much time to think today. What does one think about for ten hours a day and almost six hundred miles of riding in the freezing cold? One feels extreme anger (ANGER!), jealousy (JEALOUSY!) and resentment (RESENTMENT!) at every passing car. I started to wish that I’d had a misspent youth and had learnt to break into and hotwire a car. A car with a good heating system and a coffee cup holder. With a thermos full of hot coffee to last the entire day. A car that does one hundred miles in an hour and a half, not a day. A car with a strong heater blowing right onto my feet. A car that says a big “Fuck you” to headwinds and drizzling rain. Words like “toasty” and “warm” keep running through my mind, and I get angrier and angrier. It seems like I can’t remember the last time I was warm and comfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold and miserable before in my life. I’m low, real low.”

All I can think is ‘Keep on riding, Leon’.  He’s doing it for all us armchair tourers out there. Oh, and incidentally? According to my inside source he’s off around France right now. Jammy git.