Blogging and writing about adventure can sometimes be a painful experience. Uh, "Why Tim?" you might (very) reasonably ask? Well, the answer is that if you spend a fair bit of time trolling the interwebs for cool and exciting adventures, you will inevitably come across one that it pains you deeply not to be experiencing yourself. Here is a prime example. I recently discovered the sailing and travel blog of a nameless computer scientist who is spending his summer sailing across the Mediterranean. On a Mini. Curse you Computer Scientist!

Perhaps the biggest failure of American sailing over the past decades is the lack of presence and impact at the highest ends of global shorthanded sailing. It wasn't even until 2004-2005 that an American, Bruce Schwab, managed to finish the Vendee Globe. But for Americans, the podium has been (much) harder to scale than Mount Everest. Ditto the transatlantic races, and just about any elite shorthanded event.

The Mini Transat is hands-down one of the most testing, exhilarating, intense sailboat races any sailor can choose from the long list of epic sailing challenges. Solo, 4,200 miles across the Atlantic from France to Brazil, in a Spartan, designed-to-the-edge-of-safety, 21-foot boat that's a brutal bitch to drive to weather but an absolute rocket off the wind. Being solo and masochistic, the race is of course dominated by the French.

It warms my heart to hear that Cheyenne, nee Playstation, is about to embark on another record-breaking quest. I followed this pace-setting catamaran from her birth in the 1990s and into her run through every major sailing record in the books: 24-hour, Transat, Jules Verne.