I've got the post adventure blues

No matter how epic the adventure, at some point we all end up skidding back to reality. If you do it right you can avoid the painful bump. That's what I've been doing since leaving Croatia and road tripping back to Bonn - opening my laptop and taking bite-sized chunks of the work emails I've managed to avoid for almost a week, responding with a "Thank you for your patience..."

In between stabs at the real world, Ole and I have been doing the usual post-race philosophising. Reminiscing about previous adventures and comparing the different experiences we've encountered on each trip. This particular adventure is going to be a little bit harder to digest, despite Ole not having any gastrointestinal issues this time. 4Islands Epic as a whole is going to be hard to top. We've been asking ourselves, "what's next?" There is no easy answer.

How do you look forward to something else when you've just experienced something perfect?

I've used the term "Imposter Syndrome" before - it was when Giles, my original Cape Epic partner and friend, and I had shot the lights out in the prologue and were standing in the starting chute the next day, surrounded by some of the world's best mountain bikers. Intimidating doesn't cover it. This time, though, I found myself sitting at a dinner table every evening on a luxury yacht, swapping war stories with bona fide gazillionaires. The most fascinating part is that these people conduct themselves with such humility that you'd have no idea of their social status unless someone nudged you and said "do you know who that is?"

The common denominator that brings us all together is simply this: we all have adventure in our souls. Even if you're a CEO of a world brand with more money than God's got apples, you still need to escape the sanitised corporate world occasionally and find that place where genuine physical discomfort, mixed with a healthy dose of fear, adrenalin, and the desire to compete, is the only thing that makes you feel truly alive.

"Even if you're a CEO of a world brand with more money than God's got apples, you still need to escape the sanitised corporate world occasionally."

There is no way I could normally afford a trip like this

Then of course there is the hacker like me, just scraping by with the usual daily battle to survive, who has a probable unhealthy case of cyclo-masochism (I'm coining that phrase). Somehow though, I always seem to land with my saddle-sored arse in the chamois butt’r. There is no way I could normally afford a trip like this, but as Ole's grandfather once said: "WENN MAN GELD AUS DEM FENSTER WIRFT, KOMMT ES IRGENDWANN WIEDER DURCH DIE TÜR ZURÜCK!" Google translated, quieter and not quite as angry sounding: "if you throw money out the window, it will eventually walk back through the door."

After decades of mountain biking adventures, my proverbial money window is clattering off its hinges. And although my open door hasn't seen the expected financial reciprocation, what it has received in bucket loads are friendships and experiences whose value far exceeds any monetary payback. The acronym YOLO has become a bit of a cliché. I am starting to prefer "you only die once." YODO? Maybe that works better. Not as a morbid reminder but rather to inspire action.

"What it has received in bucket loads are friendships and experiences whose value far exceeds any monetary payback."

Right now I'm back in Windhoek Airport, sitting at the same coffee counter where I wrote my previous blog. The time went way too fast, but I am so much richer than when I left 12 days ago. A road trip, a bike race, a super yacht, and a handful of new friends we came to call Brother Sledge - because no matter where we started in the pack, we always ended up riding with the same crew, belting out "We Are Family" somewhere along the trail. Sister Sledge would have been proud.

This life is not a dress rehearsal

I could write a book but there's no time for that now. Ole was already muttering something called Titan Desert Morocco in 2027. At least I have some warning before the inevitable WhatsApp: "What ya doin' in April?" I'm already scared and have absolutely no idea how, but I do know we'll make it happen.

So here's a challenge - the same one I made after Andorra Epic. If you are reading this, you are surely someone with adventure in your veins. A few of you may have lost that sense somewhere along the way. Hopefully our little trip around the islands will remind you to reignite it. Don't wait for the stars to align or for better days.

"Strike that match, start the fire, enter, plan, book, and do something that scares you."

This life is not a dress rehearsal. Strike that match, start the fire, enter, plan, book, and do something that scares you - no matter how modest or ambitious. Then send us photos to @herenowadventures. Again, what's the wurst that can happen?