The End of an amazing trip.

Well, where do I start? I think it's best I start with the end, just to confuse you.
The final stretch was by no means like seeing the finishing straight of the marathon, I think smooth, hill-less tarmac is a luxury reserved for the streets of London, not the back roads of south west Cornwall. It was a sort of 'go out with a bang' ending as on exiting Penzance I went up the steepest climb of the trip, 16.5% I think the sign said, I say I think, I was in total disbelief but had to climb that final hurdle to get to the finish line.
After we left Penzace it was more of what I had gotten used to expecting from the Cornish countryside; narrow, rough roads with looneys driving their farm equipment at silly speeds coming the other way.
There's a certain spike in the back of your mind thats always there to say "Will the next nutter be going just that bit too fast? Will this corner be my last?" You kind of have to ignore it or you don't progress at all.
That was why I hated the final week, I was used to having a queue of 20 cars behind me and stopping every so often to let them past, the majority didnt mind at all, but on one day we had a queue of 60 cars and lorries backed up behind us, after that point I was demoted to un-named roads and more of the ever-present cattle shit clogging up my wheels.
Aside from the skating, the final few days were by far the best, it's weird that things contrast so heavily from skating time to free time. During the day myself and my mom would be at each others throats debating over the best route and how my feet hurt and anything we could find fault with really. After the days skating had finished we would sit down and joke about the funnier parts of the day, have some good food and even play frisbee; completely dismissing the swearing match we had 2 hours previously.
The relief of seeing signs for Lands End was huge, we stopped for lunch in a layby facing a T-junction, one side read Penzance, and the other, Lands End - 2 miles. It was the longest 2 miles of the trip, and I'm not just saying that for dramatic effect, I think the signing was wrong too. It was a battle between keeping my head down and concentrating on the road, and bursting into the 6 year old on Christmas eve I felt like inside.
As the line came into sight I discarded my high-vis shirt and backpack, and the 6 year old came to the surface, I replaced the grimace of the past 27 days with the cheeky grin of the 6 year old thats just eaten all the nutella after being asked not to.
The line approached and the sound of cheering drowned out the pain of the verruca that had split the day before, and the sound of the boards' wheels rolling along the tarmac, and for the first time it was just me doing my thing, no GPS, no navigation, no pit-stops, and no hills. Just one man out doing what he loves doing, not for world records, not for charity, but because he can.
I closed my eyes, opened my arms and felt the soft kiss of ribbon on my chest, and at that moment I made my peace with the road. There had been some pretty bad moments, but they all got me to the place I needed to get to; triumph, in the face of adversity, and against some of the most brutal conditions mother nature had up her sleeve.
And whats this about prevailing winds? Hairy skateboarders are what is prevailing in the north-east of Scotland I think you'll find!
After I crossed the line the rest was a blur, a sip of cider sent me dizzy and I stumbled to the landmark to have various pictures taken, then we got down to the business of celebrating at the local campsite where burgers, sausages and champagne glasses were guzzled in my honour.
It's hard to start thanking people in order, because it's unfair if someone is thanked last they feel like they have done the least, but everyone did over and above what I thought they could and were prepared to do. I'm so proud to know such generous and kind people.
Firstly, my amazing family for supporting this crazy trip and giving me the all important kick up the arse when I needed it. All the wonderful people I have met and stayed with along the trip, it's nice to get to know the people behind the windows you skate past. I am never going to forget such generous people that willingly will accomodate a smelly teenager and his support team for free, they are the real heroes. A special thanks to our meals on wheels crew (thingy and thingy) who made a change of hands of the driver run smoothly, and for support throughout the trip. A huge thank you to the maker of my beautiful Birthday cake, which was so detailed it even had the right coloured wheels on my skateboard, it rests to this day on my wardrobe and I am still too scared to either eat it or throw it away.
For everyone who made their way down to cornwall to see me over the line, I want to say a massive thanks to as it's an expensive trip with the rediculous petrol prices. But it made all the difference that people would go out of their way just so I could see a friendly face to welcome me across the line, and it means a huge amount to me that people are willing to do that for one person, so again I thank you greatly.
To my friends, who have called me everything from 'skater boy' to 'absolute bloody nutter' I want to thank for not only supporting me personally, but who supported the charity too and gave generously to CORDA.
I think it's safe to say that without the help of a few people the trip would have been a non starter, Jenny Jenks of CORDA and Nicky Smith of Nexus have put in a huge workload to make the most of this trip and I want to thank them both hugely for their time, commitment and patients.
Now I know theres always a 'last but not least' in every list of thanks, but I think I have no trouble is saying that the next person is not only a huge inspiration to myself and hundreds of other bidding nutters, but is the most generous, giving, kind, helpful and likeable person I have ever come across. It has been a privelidge to have been helped by, to have been embraced as a friend by, and to have broken a record of the great Mr. (should be sir) David Cornthwaite. Without the help and guidance of Dave, I wouldn't have had the determination to accomplish such a task as this, and I would probably never have thought it possible to achieve what I have.
So then, how do you end this chapter of the Ben Stiff story?
It shouldn't be concluded with a statement, like 'it's been incredible' or 'I'm buggered if I'm doing that again' but it should be a question.
Not one like 'how was it'? or even 'how do you feel'?
Simply; "What's next"?



To find out more about Ben's trip and others like it, log on to www.boardfree.co.uk

Happy skatin'