the goal, but it's often the journey itself that becomes the significant part of the trip. When Tom Gilligan began his trip in Vancouver in July 1985, reaching his children in Toronto was the goal. In the 44 days that followed, on 4,604 kilometers of roads, he learned a lot about Canada, and about himself.

Tom wrote a lot during that trip, and that journal looked both outward and inward, at geography and at his heart. In the pages of The Journey we learn about mechanical breakdowns and his atrocious diet, but Tom also shares the loneliness, the feelings of not fitting in when he is among people in places such as cafes, and the pleasure of getting help from people when he needed it. From the first rough day, we ride along with him as his skills and confidence build, struggling up steep hills and through pouring rain, and gliding gloriously down long sunny grades.

This is not the story of a well-planned, well equipped trip. Tom was 44 years old, the used bike was barely adequate for the task, and there was no plan beyond simply getting to Toronto. Despite a crash, a dog attack, and some truly ugly days, Tom was able to say he was content with life after a month on the road. The trip did not end with "the victorious triumph of the cycling warrior *he had hoped for, but it was a personal triumph worth celebrating, worth writing about, and worth reading about.