Over the years, I’ve come to understand how important it is for me to set goals—both the big, long-term life goals and the smaller, more tactical ones that feel immediately achievable. These goals drive me forward. They give me direction and act as a beacon, something to look toward even when the path ahead is obscured by fog.

But I’ve also learned that as I move toward a goal—and gain more knowledge, experience, and perspective—sometimes it’s not only okay, but necessary, to reevaluate. It’s okay to rethink, to pivot, adjust, tweak, or refine. Sometimes the goal takes longer than expected. Sometimes it demands more steps than I originally thought. And sometimes, the goal isn’t the goal at all. It’s the journey, the lessons, the growth along the way that truly matters.

Finding clarity about a goal isn’t always easy. But more often than not, life has a way of unfolding so that if I step back, remove my ego, and look at the situation objectively, I can find that moment of clarity. I can see through the haze and make a decision that’s best for me—right then, right there.

I had one of those moments a few weeks ago.

Since the start of this ride, I’d been toiling through intense heat, challenging road conditions, and terrain that pushed me well beyond my comfort zone. Yet through it all, I was soaking it in like a sponge—embracing the cultural immersion, connecting with nature and wildlife, and forming deep bonds with my fellow riders.

But as I looked ahead, I realized the hardest sections were still to come: Botswana and Namibia, with the Kalahari and Namib deserts—some of the most extreme and unforgiving environments yet.

I’ve had the goal of riding across East Africa and the Sub-Sahara for a long time. I’m often driven by reaching the endpoint. But I was hitting a mental wall. These extreme riding conditions were completely out of my control. I couldn’t change the temperature. I couldn’t change the roads. Could I push through? Sure. But at what cost to my mind and body?

I had an honest conversation with myself. I decided to set the ego aside and listen to what my body was telling me. I chose to pivot from my original goal of reaching Cape Town. Instead, I chose to recognize and appreciate the incredible journey I had already completed—to end on a high, while still mentally and physically strong.

So that’s what I did.

I reached Livingstone, Zambia, home of the legendary Victoria Falls. This became my new endpoint. I exhaled. I felt relief and deep gratitude for what I had accomplished—riding from Kenya, through Tanzania, Malawi, and into Zambia. No small feat.

I’m content. I’m healthy. And now, it’s time to return home—back to Joe, who has been endlessly patient and supportive throughout all of this and all of my other epic adventures! It’s time to rest, to eat, to regain the weight I lost, and most importantly, to reflect and truly process what I’ve done.

The journey isn’t over—it continues in my mind as I gain distance and perspective. The lessons will form in time. Will I return to complete the Sub-Saharan crossing? Maybe. Maybe not. It’s too soon to tell.

What I can say—and must say—is thank you. Thank you for following this journey, for your encouragement, your words of support, and for sharing in the discoveries. As much as I take on these epic adventures for myself, I also do them to share—to shine a little light on another part of the world.

Thank you.

And it’s not over yet! I still have more to post—stories from Victoria Falls and a final safari into Botswana. So please, stick around. There’s more to come.