The final countdown ... part two

We regrouped at the base of ‘Everest’ to both assess the accent before us and to take advantage of our last chance to momentarily disassociate from the reality of what was to come. Ten minutes passed. It was time to look the hills square in the face and ‘knock the bastard off’.

Changing down gears and bracing ourselves for the increasingly steep gradient I couldn’t help but think of my favourite movie depicting triumph and victory over seemingly overwhelming odds, Rocky. At that moment I pictured my own ‘Mickey’ right there beside me willing me on, refusing to let me pause or hesitate for even a moment. He was indignant. I was to conquer the peaks in front of me. ‘Eye of the Tiger’ played in the background, as always providing a timely shot of adrenaline. One foot bearing down on each pedal, I kept my eyes planted on each new plateau. The heat intensified with each hill. My only relief being the reward of bottled water tipped over my head once level ground were reached.

I could see participants in front of me, behind me and beside me however I knew that permitting conversation or allowing even a moments thought to be directed their way would potentially jeopardize the momentum gained. I needed to dedicate 100% of my mental and physical resources to this last leg. I could see that this train of thought was mirrored by them. Just as this resolution crossed my mind a series of trucks came hurtling toward us, moving us off the road and onto a rather rocky bank beside the road. The timing of our move off the road and the passing of the trucks seemed ridiculously closely timed. It would be accurate to say that it is best to assume that all truck drivers on Cambodian roads are visually challenged psychopaths who view any and all road rules as road suggestions.

Before long we could see that several participants and the drinks vehicle had stopped outside just beyond the crest of the second hill. Cold water, chewy lollies courtesy of Belinda and a series of encouraging cheers for each participant who cycled into the rest area continued until we once again hit the road. A sense of collective satisfaction seemed to permeate the air as we celebrated our success in completing the first phase of this challenging leg.

The second phase of this leg seemed to be a much less challenging version of the first. Perhaps it was because this phase seemed to an elongated version of the last, with gradients of less torturous degrees than before. A moment of comic disappointment occurred when after reaching criminal speeds on one of the descents several of us thought we must be approaching the finish line. Pumping the air and screaming excitement we were soon slapped into reality by the clearing of obstructing foliage that hid the impending hill that would be our last to complete. Approaching this hill we were greeted with a sign informing us that we were approaching ‘Victory Beach’. We were struck with the significance of this.

Ten minutes later we were rounding a corner, the finish line within our wearied sights when a moped overtook us, skidding and subsequently falling on the loose gravel careening into the dirt, passengers screaming. We jumped off our bikes running to their aid, fairly certain we were in our own personal episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. It was a dramatic interruption that ended in the support vehicle supplying first aid.

Back on our bikes we set off for the final 100m. Smey stood beaming at us, waving us into the courtyard of our final resting place. The soundtrack changed, I now heard ‘Chariots of Fire’ play as time seemed to slow dramatically. The realization that we were at the end of what had become a 570km journey was all consuming.

We were exhilarated. We were the Jamaican bobsled team, Rocky 1 through 5, the Australian swim team Athens 2000, the Mighty Ducks. We were victorious. We were the World Vision Charity Challenge 1 and we were at the finish line.

Later that night down by the beach of Sihanoukville we celebrated the lovely Sheila’s 60th birthday in conjunction with the end of what had been a challenge that had delivered on its promise to be a treat for the body and the heart. After a rousing version of Happy Birthday, complete with our Cambodian friends holding sparklers and presenting Sheila with her own cake, we decided to gift our friends with a taste of kiwiana. It was with a profound sense of sadness that we sang ‘Pokarekare Ana’ and ‘God Defend New Zealand’. The Cambodians waved tissues as we sang and then showered us in a series of hugs and statements of ‘I will miss you’.

The next morning we exited Sihanoukville by van singing along to Dave Dobbyn as we reminisced on our extraordinary shared experience. Not a single one of us were going to be leaving Cambodia without a strong measure of admiration and affection for this beautiful and yet troubled country. It had stolen a portion of our hearts and minds and would remain the place that so openly embraced these intrepid cyclists on a mission to bring safe water to a desperate community.

In conclusion I need to thank Intrepid/Raw Travel, specifically the enormously valuable Vance, Dave and Mike. The delivery of a well organized and authentic travel experience meant that 21 World Vision enthusiasts fell in love with a country and a people that World Vision works so hard to serve. There was a breadth to this experience that would not have been encountered had we not scaled this beautiful land. The team's commitment to World Vision's work in Cambodia is now unshakable...

Check out the blog tomorrow for some closing thoughts from the participants ...