This is a long old trip. I look back now and struggle to comprehend that this is the same journey that took us through the shires to London, then bounced off the south coast with such ferocity that we found ourselves in Holland, climbing the hill there. Then the grey, sodden greenery of Germany, merely a 730 mile flooded conduit leading us to the gorgeously rolling Alpine underbelly of southern Austria and Switzerland. Even a steep, solid 50-minute cow-topped climb out of Frangy - just a sliver into France past the Swiss border - just last Friday seems like a lifetime ago.
The view is constantly changing, and the last ten days have demanded use of a word so often overused in modern-day language. Awesome. The opening five weeks of this journey were fun, health-inducing and a constant reminder of the kindness of strangers but the challenge and the scenery was tepid. The people lifted the bar but my gut was dominated by a most unusual feeling. I was hoping for more.
Perhaps my familiarity with Europe was the reason, low lying Europe, in any case. I’ve lost count of the number of times Squash shouted to me, ‘this could be England!’
But as we began a climb out of Oberstaufen on June 5th it all changed. The raw majesty of snow-tipped mountains loomed over to our left, standing sentry between us and the south. Wisely we avoided the challenge; jumping onto the Swiss plateau where Squash and I parted ways for a short while: loved ones were flying in to opposite ends of the country and their attention was thoroughly needed.
The Swiss, by the way, are even more efficient than the Germans. Everything was spick and span. On time. Spotless. I like it. Well done you neutral people.
In preparation for three days off the road I transported my ElliptiGO down some narrow steps to the rear of a Zurich video shop, which at some dreadful point encouraged a rather drastic pop in my back. Suddenly the most basic movements became difficult: standing up, getting out of bed, carrying a rucksack.
I take my health for granted. Sure, I go to roost a little in between expeditions and nurture my belly until it is nicely round, but I’m always able to sprint after a burglar should the opportunity allow.
When something in your body clicks, so does reality. We’re ever so fragile. After my break, which was totally lovely by the way and thanks for asking, I needed help bringing my ElliptiGO out into the daylight. I was struggling to lift the old girl to nudge the kickstand into place. I couldn’t bend over to attach the straps on the trailer.
Remarkably, once riding I was fine. Sore, yes. Tense, definitely. But the impactless nature of the ElliptiGO means I’m able to move without worry of further damage, at least to the area in question. The body is a wonderful creation but its reaction to stress has a downside. A poorly anything will be naturally protected by the transition of strain to another area and other niggles have been developing in my calves, shoulders and neck. And it all hurts when I step off the GO. So ironic, considering I was at my all-time fittest before those steps…
Of course, I’m tired and that’s when injury infiltrates. Add this to the fact that the terrain of awesomeness is rugged and raw and topographically exciting. I am rewarded by the joy of staring up at crumbling cliffs and mountain forests and snowy peaks and tight gorges by the regular steep climbs that go hand in hand with this territory.
This morning Squash and I parted ways. In order to complete this journey without compromising my health I will travel direct and slow (the slow bit, especially, is pleasing) but this means a final total of 3000 miles is extremely unlikely, for me. I’m fine with that, numbers do not validate a journey in my book and I’ll enjoy my patient plod home, but Squash is physically capable of the record and I’m right behind her as she busts her ass! You can support her too on her Twitter and Facebook.
This morning, as I went left (towards the coast) and Squash went right (towards more mountains), I was reminded that sometimes planning is futile. Decisions can only be made based on current moments and all you can do at those times is to make the right decision. The difficulty level of this expedition has risen steadily since the Alps came into sight: it would have even had I not damaged my back.
The additional draining of energy that accompanies continual pain has now been joined by intense heat, but you know what? Give me these moments time and time again come rain, shine or North German Gloom. The joy of any journey appears hidden sometimes, but it glints out from the most unlikely of places, you just have to keep on looking.
We’re raising funds for CoppaFeel!’s brilliantly creative ways to raise pre-detection levels of breast cancer. Please donate a couple of pennies if you enjoyed this blog.
And here’s our official Go Trek website, for the full background.
There comes a time in life when you look back at the month just passed and realise that you’ve just ridden 1300 miles on a gym machine with wheels.
It’s been the wettest early summer in fifty years for this part of Europe and our route has been altered occasionally due to a current tendency for cycle paths to become lakes or rivers without announcement. ‘Ah,’ we say, ‘best engineer an about turn…’
When not riding our ElliptiGOs for eight hours a day we’ve found time to feign injury in an ambulance, race up 540 steps through cylindrical spires of the tallest church in the world (before - after), witness the aftermath of a runaway barge pontoon that had crucially damaged a barrage in flood season, and attend a festival dedicated to skyscrapers.
Germany is a beautiful, friendly country. I’ve mentioned the war only once when being interviewed by a reporter who absolutely must have been a poodle in a former life. On our first night in the country a man named Adolf took just two minutes to give us free reign of his property - this would have meant something considerably different 70 years ago (too soon?). The cycle paths make safe navigation a joy. The sometimes-calm sometimes-swollen Rhine and Ahr and Mosel and Fils and Necker Rivers have guided us south through flat lands before the rolling of recent hills have suggested we are about to encounter a certain mountain range.
We have eaten ever so well, fuelling the constant activity that sees our muscles becoming dense and well-formed and replacing the several thousand calories we’ve burned each day. Just before we reached Frankfurt we passed over the 1000 mile mark for this journey, meaning it is now officially number eight for my Expedition1000 project.
In addition to ElliptiGOs we have made the acquaintance of many strange forms of transport, including trikes and trikkes and recumbent and pedal choppers and penny farthings and segways and unicycles. We have slept in barrels and tents and hammocks and karaoke bars canoe clubs and the homes of strangers and friends and paramedics. We have met two mayors, and one deputy, all were splendid.
I’ll be sad to bid farewell to the endless terraces covered in vines and the ripe greens of often far-off hills. I shan’t be sad when this bloody incessant rain quits its nonsense, we’ve been forced to ride much with heads down in brace against persistent and endless droplets. Our gear has been dampened and dried countless times, an unexpected and annoyingly grey test after our blazing yellow ten days in the UK. English weather we absolutely did not bring to our European neighbours.
And now to Switzerland. I couldn’t even begin to guess what it holds for us. Although a few hills will be a good start. And cheese, let’s go and get some cheese.
We’re raising funds for CoppaFeel!’s brilliantly creative ways to raise pre-detection levels of breast cancer. Please donate a couple of pennies if you enjoyed this blog.
We have a habit of getting ourselves into these adventures because we say yes, a lot. Grab a t-shirt to kick of your say yes more habit.
And here’s our official Go Trek website, for the full background.
Axel boasted the most wonderful smile. He looked a full decade younger than his seventy years and had a twinkle in his eye that instantly betrayed a life well lived. I felt forced to ask a question: ‘If a youngster asked you for one piece of advice about life, what would you say?’
He thought a while, processing the joy and the pain that had offered up lessons throughout his fruitful life and after shaking his head in desperation he finally found something. He took a bite of cake and wiped the excess from around his mouth, then looked at me sideways.
‘To distinguish that which is important to you, and that which is not.’
It has been one month since Squash and I left Everton Football Club’s training ground at Finch Farm, Liverpool. One month. Twenty-nine days. One thousand one hundred miles right on the nail.
But this has been an immeasurable period of time, one where a simple calculation of days doesn’t do justice to the seemingly bottomless accumulation of new faces, uphills and downhills, grease stains on once-new clothing and confusion brought about by missing signposts at crucial junctions.
I can be sure about a few things. We have camped just three times this last month thanks to the kindness of strangers. This was the first morning since we woke on the English Channel Stena ferry on 11th May that the air has not been filled with rain. I am revelling in the circular by-product of fitness that accompanies travelling this way. Although my bed fellow is a lingering, aching glow of endless work and exercise, I take it as growing pains. The only true physical discomfort I’ve felt has been sore feet after standing for so blooming’ long, but my body isn’t breaking down on this journey, it is improving.
The familiarity I feel with Europe has made this a strange venture. It’s rare that I find myself staring in wonder or surprise although such adventure slightly tugs at the fabric of previous understanding and serves as a reminder of things still good and possible. The simple pleasures of riding in warm sunlight and camping by a nicely flowing river are never lost. I long for more of these.
So, one month in. Has it passed fast or slow? Slow, I think. It is weighed down with memories as opposed to empty space. But honestly, in comparison to my past journeys this one has challenged me the least. The greatest physical test is yet to come in the form of the Alps and then a swift dash homewards from the Mediterranean, so I won’t count my chickens just yet.
I already know my mind is capable of continuing the plod from town to town and country to country but I’ve had time to dwell as my feet ellipse and I’m yet to resolve a few questions that have been posed since this trip began. Those things which I deem most important in life haven’t changed but as yet I haven’t moved towards or away from them since my temporary life as a full-time ElliptiGO’er began.
I long for some change; the lack of personal transition on this wiggle around Europe will mean my next venture shall be extremely different from this. Regardless of the transport I know that I have nothing left to prove by going far, it’s what happens en route that really matters.
Alongside my friend Squash Falconer I’m currently riding a couple of thousand miles around Europe on an ElliptiGO. It’s an elliptical bicycle with 8 gears, no seat and a drive chain powered by a running action. It’s certainly one of the most original forms of transport I’ve tried out in recent years, and a couple of people (with raised eyebrows) have asked me why I’m travelling by ElliptiGO on this journey. Here’s my answer:
Travel along exactly the same stretch of road in parallel universes; each time using a different form of transport. Each journey will be different. Skateboard, bicycle, pedal car, roller skis, unicycle, elliptical bicycle: each one of them offers a unique and original experience. Physical and psychological tests vary off the back of differing viewpoints, stresses, muscles used, speeds travelled, natural resistance, attention attracted and countless more factors.
When the bicycle was invented it was the subject of ridicule. Few people owned one, many scoffed at it against more traditional forms of travel, like a donkey. Now who’s laughing?! Of course, we now know it was only a matter of time before the bicycle became the favoured mode of transportation and recreation for over 1 billion humans. Lesson one: just because it’s original doesn’t make it foolish.
I’ve made some decisions in my life which now mean I’m a magnet to non-motorised machines. That said, I’m not gung ho with my yeses. I won’t travel 1000 miles by pogo stick or space hopper because it’s clear that the joy would wear off after three bounces. When I first laid eyes on the ElliptiGO I was concerned about the novelty aspect of the thing. But I had a go and was struck by a few qualities that a pogo stick or space hopper couldn’t offer: it was fun, it was obviously going to be good for me, and it had the potential to cover some serious distance.
The simple Say Yes More attitude of not letting expectation or stigma prevent a new experience is ingrained into the ElliptiGO. It is basically the combination of two superbly recognisable elements of life in the western world: a cross trainer from the gym, and a bicycle. Yet it still draws solemn head shakes from the odd cyclist and has even confused a few of the folks who have been patient and open-minded enough to follow one or more of my journeys. Ironically, the gold of this current expedition is the uniqueness of the ElliptiGO. It’s an ice-breaker, an instant conversation starter. It turns heads and makes people smile, enthuse and wonder. What else is adventure for?
After 1000 miles on the move I’m at the height of my fitness, it’s not often I’ve been able to say that sincerely. From my 8 journeys of 1000 miles or more this has been one of the easiest, but that is because I’ve been free to put my head down and go and with every stretch of road and hill climb my body has improved. Reliable, effective and enjoyable, the ElliptiGO is a joy to travel on. Apart from perhaps Stand Up Paddleboarding I haven’t found a more effective way to keep fit. I’ll definitely continue to ElliptiGO after this journey is over. It transforms the outdoors into a gym: give me trees and fields over mirrors and MTV any day. Plus, if I have the energy to still have a bit of fun after riding 70 miles in a day on a piece of kit that is a lot harder to power than a bicycle, then High 5 that statue!
And if you have a couple of extra pennies, please help us raise £3000 for CoppaFeel
Squash and I had ridden 769 miles in 21 days and decided to celebrate the three-week mark by accepting a couple of challenges; to be the first people to ride the length of a brand new cycle path along Germany’s Ahr River, and to cover 100 miles by ElliptiGO thus joining an exclusive group of ‘Century Riders.’
At the start of day by the River Rhine
I didn’t train for this journey at all yet after just a couple of weeks I’m back to full fitness. I feel leaner and without injury or strain (or potential for it). My 6-month writing sabbatical pot belly has dissolved. My calves are bigger than some of the electric cars we’ve seen recently. Simply, I feel good, fit, healthy and ready for anything: it didn’t take long at all.
Travelling by ElliptiGO is offering experiences I’ve not had before. It’s not a remote, rough expedition, but that doesn’t matter. We’re meeting people, spreading a positive message and all the while acting on our words - the most vital lesson of all. ‘I’ve never seen you look better during an expedition,’ my Mum told me earlier. She’s right, when I skyped home during my last expedition I had to sign off in tears; my body was wasting away, I was too exhausted and emotionally fragile to maintain my mood.
Zooming through Vineyards
The Ahr Valley is gorgeous. Our trailers back at our camp for the night we sped along, relieved of the usual extra 25kg load we find ourselves towing. This 100 miles was a rest day, but we were eager to cover a Century for the first time. We began at the Rhine and followed the Ahr upstream towards its sources. As the miles departed the river became smaller until, finally, it was reduced to a trickle emerging from a lake in the small town of Blankenheim. Here’s our midway video blog.
We’ve spent longer than 8 hours on the road several times already this journey but towing our trailers means we can cover 50 or 60 miles before darkness begins to rear its evil head. Yesterday we returned to base with exactly 100 miles completed. The shy disappointment on the faces of our hosts when we bounded to the dinner table without any apparent sign of exhaustion was really quite funny.
Squash rides past a castle with just 8 miles to go
Sadly, we weren’t accepted into the ElliptiGO Century Club because our journey isn’t recognised by ElliptiGO rules. But rules are boring, so we banished our disappointment by setting up our own club, the Say Yes More Century Club, into which we invite anybody who has travelled 100 miles without a motor, Most of us can do it, but it’s not always easy - these challenges make us stronger!
Please do share your Century experience - we want EVERYBODY to feel able to have an adventure, limited by nothing except personal will.
Signing out, now heading south towards Frankfurt
It’s the same every journey:
‘The mosquitos are bigger here than further up the river.’
‘You don’t want to go to Miami, they’re crazy there.’
‘You can’t skateboard across the Nullarbor, you’ll fry.’
‘You’re not allowed to stand up in a canoe. Sit down or I’ll call the police.’
‘It’s uphill all the way to stoke.’
‘You’ll love Holland, it’s flat and there are cycle paths everywhere.’
One of these phrases is just about bang on, they just didn’t mention the rain.
The sunshine blazed down for our eleven days in England. My skin bade farewell to the pastiness that naturally accompanies several months writing in a coffee shop. I began to glow. Squash’s tan lines wrapped around her upper knee. The wind was kind. Bad weather laid off bar a short downpour south of Milton Keynes and our camping gear remained firmly packed inside our trailers. We were hardly roughing it, but each journey is different and the pressures on this one come from different, sometimes unexpected angles.
An ElliptiGO takes about 30% more energy to propel than your average road bike, add a trailer to that and uphills take a bit more work. We’re averaging about 40-50 miles a day on this journey so far, which equates to between 60 and 80 miles a day on a normal bike. Okay, not such a massive effort - especially compared to past expeditions - but throw in a packed schedule of presentations and events and the next nine weeks will take some doing. We’re definitely sleeping well, and that’s a good indication of each day well spent.
We’re eating well too. We’re burning around 5000 calories each on a typical day so anything goes. One of those simple joys of travelling under your own steam. The outdoors is our gym. Still, despite countless meals so far we haven’t quite worked out what Slagroom is.
‘Looks like you’re having a blast, seems more fun than the swim’ a few people have written, and they’re right! This is incomparable to swimming the Missouri, I can be myself on this trip. There’s no sinking into depths of grim focus, nor do I have to cancel out the enjoyment of silly cameos I prefer to share on these trips - I at least have the energy to smile on this one! Travelling by ElliptiGO is just fun. It’s good for us, physically and socially.
Squash is grand company, an impressive woman and always up for a giggle. We have moments of wishing we could share these times with our respective partners, but despite only having spent about five hours together before stepping onto our ellipticals in Liverpool two weeks ago we’re becoming good, supportive friends. We’re here for the love of adventure and the eventful nature of this journey, although draining, means strangers are becoming close friends every single day. We’re thrust into the lives of others and leave almost as quickly, but richer for it.
And now we’re in Holland. When they say ‘here’s a hill’ we’re over it in seconds, it’s usually a bridge, or a pile of dirt. It’s been a little grey and damp since our ferry dumped us on the Hook of Holland but the vibrancy of the Dutch makes up for the climatic depression. Cycle paths are everywhere which makes riding much less pressured, although I’m not convinced that separation from cars warrants 90% of cyclists here to travel without helmets. Oh, and there’s SO much water here! Canals and rivers abound, our ElliptiGOs are waterfront property for half the day, but all these waterways do require a bit of weaving and ferry-taking as we float from place to place.
So, to sum up. We’re busy. Breathers are rare, our fitness is high, our strides are brilliant ice-breakers. We are rich in new experiences and friends. Germany, into which we cross on Friday, has a lot to live up to. Thank you Holland, you’ve been wonderful.
It has begun.
That familiar feeling of growing fitness is returning. I didn’t train for this trip, both Squash and I had travelled less than 50 miles each by ElliptiGO before we hitched up our virgin trailers and rode out of Everton FC’s football ground. It’s testament to the no-impact design of the ElliptiGO that after 527 miles in two weeks this body of mine - almost entirely without exercise in the last 7 months - is feeling delightfully fine, if not a bit tired around the edges.
Through quaint villages with the scent of cut grass and blooming flowers filling the air. Past wide open fields stuffed with frollicking lambs, small enough to retain cuteness, old enough to already show a mistrust of humans. Down beautiful minute-long hills, wind whipping through the strands of hair poking out from our helmets. Down long, uninspiring industrial drags: JCB dealers, Staples and Carpet Warehouse offering a solemn guard of honour. The bustling Hyde Park on a weekend, Abbey Road, the oddities of Croydon on a Monday. The sweat-inducing climb-to-space that is Ditchling Beacon in the South Downs, and then the countryside rolling back north before flattening out in Essex, an imitation of the Holland we arrived in three days ago.
An overnight ferry, two new friends on ElliptiGOs waiting outside customs. Rotterdam. Meeting Prince Pieter Christiaan: an ever so down-to-earth and friendly Royal Orange. And then to Amsterdam.
We’ve been non-stop. Events, talks, photos and lots and lots of hours on the road, but we’ve found our legs now. Onwards this week through the Netherlands before we enter Germany on Friday. And then a plummet south towards the Alps. They await, casting shadows, no doubt with a cheeky grin on their face.
Follow our journeys through our Punkt map, on Facebook (Squash & myself), Twitter (Squash & myself) and sign up to our newsletter, where we’ll fire occasional snippets of unshared news to your inbox (and give you the chance to win loads of cool prizes including an ElliptiGO!)
Finally, of course, we’re raising some pennies for CoppaFeel!’s work towards breast cancer awareness. If you’d like to donate, you can do so safely online, here
The full story is on our official website, www.thegotrek.com
What is the GoTrek?
Dave Cornthwaite and Squash Falconer are riding 2500 miles around Europe on ElliptiGO elliptical bicycles, encouraging people to say yes more, get fit and healthy and introduce a little adventure into their lives. Along the way they’re raising funds for CoppaFeel! (they’re asking for a ‘lil £3 donation, that’s all!) and just having a good old journey on some very unique forms of transport.
What’s an ElliptiGO?
An ElliptiGO is an elliptical bicycle - like a cross trainer from the gym, but on wheels - designed to replicate all the benefits of running at the same time as removing all impact on the body. With 8 gears the ElliptiGO can go anywhere a road bike can go and an average speed of over 15 miles per hour on the flat makes it a great way to commute, travel or just cover some miles on the weekend. It takes approximately 30% more energy to ride than a bicycle, making the ElliptiGO a great cardio trainer, and the GoTrek quite the challenge!
Who are Dave and Squash?
Dave Cornthwaite is an adventurer, author and founder of Say Yes More. The Go Trek is the 8th journey of his Expedition1000 project: 25 non-motorised journeys of 1000 miles or more. He has written three books (including his latest, Life in the Slow Lane), skateboarded across Australia, paddleboarded the length of the Mississippi and swum 1001 miles down the Lower Missouri.
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Squash Falconer is a mountaineer and record breaking paraglider and bumboarder. Her motto - Higher, Further, Funnier - just about sums Squash up. A wonderful blend of grit, positivity and laughter makes her one of the most unique adventurers around. She’s summited Everest, paraglided off Mt Blanc and bombarded down Cho Oyu, amongst other amazing challenges.
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Founder by Dave’s friend Kris Hallenga after she was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 23, CoppaFeel! uses creative methods to encourage young people to check themselves and catch any symptoms of breast cancer early. Pre-detection is better than cure! We’d love you to donate just £3 to CoppaFeel! on behalf of the Go Trek’s 3000 miles.
Nb. EVERY penny donated goes to CoppaFeel! We’ve covered the costs of the journey ourselves and through sponsors.
How can we get involved?
Dave and Squash want YOU!
Join them on the road, follow and share the journey online to help spread the word, set up an event and more. Click here to find everything you need to know
To get little updates from Squash and Dave as they GO through Europe sign up to their newsletter. You’ll also be entered into a competition giving you the chance to win £1000’s of prizes, including an ElliptiGO
Follow the fun on www.thegotrek.com
If you are planning an expedition for nothing but soul food and have no care about sharing on social media, fundraising for a charity or offering some realtime return for any sponsors you might have, there’s no need to read this!
We live in a wonderful age where communication possibilities are instant, and story sharing from an adventure can happen in so many forms. Video, images, text and/ or a combination of all three can enable the painting of a vivid picture across the globe.
There are no definitive ways to properly promote and share an expedition, so instead below are some ideas for you to pick and choose from.
- Website: your website is an online brochure for your project, the first go-to for anyone interested in your project
- Facebook: whether you’re using interactive capabilities with external apps or adding content straight onto Facebook, the spread of potential followers is undeniable. Note: if you have a personal Facebook page and another expedition/ adventure/ event page try not to double-up on content
- Twitter: it’s great practice tightening up your story telling into 140 characters or less. A quick, easy way to spread the word and develop a follow. If you still can’t get your mind around Twitter, try using a social media desktop like Tweetdeck or Hootsuite.
- Blog: If writing is more your thing you might want to take a more bloggy approach. Wordpress is a popular option (and can also double up as your full website). Tumblr is a less complicated option for the casual blogger.
- Instagram: a lovely way to make your photos look better than a simple press of the button can.
- Punkt: a new, interactive social media mapping app designed with adventures in mind. Share video, images and text and have a GPS-marked content button display your position as well as what happened where. If you’re travelling in an area with good data connectivity then Punkt can replace the location aspects of other GPS trackers, like SPOT.
eg. Here’s the Punkt for my upcoming adventure with Squash Falconer.
eg2. And here’s one from a full expedition, where Leon McCarron and Rob Lilwall walked across Asia.
As effective as social media is nothing is quite as good as meeting people face to face. Ensure that your meeting plants some roots and carry something to give to everyone you meet, so they can follow up on your internet links, go to your charity donation page, and get in touch with you.
If you’re trying to keep things light, I recommend Moo Minicards. Half the size of normal business cards they allow a different image on every single card, giving a great first impression. Get 10% off your first order with Moo by clicking here
If you are able to construct a sweet PR machine around your expedition, the results could be unbeatable. This isn’t easy. A well-timed and well-written tweet could reach more people than a feature in the Times, but if you work on a trickle-up effect media coverage could boost your following.
Start on locals. Newspapers, radio and TV. As soon as you start appearing in ‘little’ publications, bigger ones might take notice especially if you have a good, positive message alongside a unique venture.
Specialist media is worth focusing on. For example, on my upcoming ElliptiGO trek magazines like Outdoor Fitness and Runners World are perfect fits for the story. Remember though, these publications often compile content up to 8 months ahead of release. Make sure you get in early.
Media releases: a short, concise press release with a well-taken illustrative image attached can make the difference. Make a good first impression, edge out waffle, add contact details.
Find a contact: Writing to a real life person rather than the generic news gathering address on a website will get you brownie points. Show you care about being featured and you’ll be given more time.
This largely depends on the location of your expedition. If remote, you may need a Sat Phone unit with a laptop link-up and perhaps a SPOT tracker to show your progress and position, both for sharing and emergency purposes.
If you’ll have cell signal regularly and deem this to be sufficient for your communication needs, then a smartphone for mobile updates should be enough. A small laptop will give you more scope for content creation and video editing. (I use an Apple MacBook Pro 13”, a good balance of light weight and function.)
Ultimately, your first port of call should be to understand your strengths and how you want to use them to promote your expedition. If you’re lacking a vital skillset like copywriting or video editing consider seeking help from someone who can do what you can’t.
Always do what you feel is right and works works for you, rather than just doing what others do because you think that’s the norm. There is NO norm!