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The Myth of Being Ready

Updated: 11 hours ago

I almost didn’t go on my first adventure ride.

One sentence changed that — and everything that followed.


Motorcyclists stand on a rocky mountain path with three bikes. Majestic mountains and a valley village stretch under a sunny sky.
She was terrified on day one. But look where we ended up.

Maybe you've said it to yourself.


“I’ll do it when I feel more confident.”

“When I’ve had a bit more practice.” “When I’m ready.”


It sounds sensible. Logical, even.


But adventure riding has taught me something different.


Readiness rarely shows up first.


Most of the time, it arrives later — halfway up a rough climb, or after a long day when you realise you’re still upright, still moving, and somehow calmer than you expected.


I remember my first adventure ride in Ladakh. I had held my licence for only a year. No off-road experience. No real idea what I was stepping into.


I called the tour operator beforehand and asked, “What if I can’t ride?”

His answer was simple: “If you really want to ride in Ladakh, you can do it.”


So I went.


And it changed everything.


Many women come to adventure riding later in life. And when we do, we’re no longer reckless — we think things through. We prepare. We try to get everything right before we begin.


And yet the road doesn’t always reward preparation. Sometimes it asks for something else entirely.


Willingness.


The willingness to try even when confidence feels incomplete.

The willingness to ride at a slower pace than everyone else.

The willingness to stop, breathe, and begin again.


I’ve watched women stand beside their bikes at the start of a ride, doubt written all over their faces.


“Not sure this is for me.”

“I’m terrified.”

“Had I known, I might not have joined.”


And I’ve watched those same women days later — full of quiet confidence and joy, as if they had rediscovered a part of themselves they thought was gone.


Not louder.

Not fearless.

Just steadier.


Confidence doesn’t arrive before the experience. It grows inside it.


It builds in small moments — choosing to continue when turning back would be easier, trusting your balance, learning that control isn’t about force but about practice and patience.


And one day, often without noticing exactly when, something shifts.

The ride hasn’t changed. But your relationship to it has.


If you’re waiting to feel ready, perhaps readiness isn’t what comes before you begin — but what finds you once you’ve said yes.


If this speaks to you, you’re not alone.

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