This blog's for ME

Almost 25 years old, asking my parents if I can sleep in their bed with them. I had thought I was going to be the 25th Prime Minister of Canada. Things had changed. 10 years later, I was still a scared little boy. The time had come to slap myself awake. One Saturday morning, November 19th, 2009, I declared to the world I would be riding my 10 year-old motorcycle from Vancouver, BC Canada to Rio de Janeiro, Brasil, and back.

The official departure was August 28th, 2010. A group of well-wishers saw me off at 8:03 am.

I arrived in Rio de Janeiro around 6 pm March 1st, 2011.



My return to Vancouver came on July 5th, 2011 about 2:00 pm.

Drug & alcohol abuse, ADD, social anxiety, health, chronic pain, night terrors.

So many concerns. But I am far more interested in this question: Do I have the capacity to make this trip despite all my shortcomings?

My mission: To inspire myself to face my fears, enlighten myself on how all living things can peacefully co-exist, enjoy every moment, and see the world as plentiful and generous.

Go ahead. Call me crazy. Call me anything you like.

I'm out to save my world.



I LOVE YOU ALL



Questions, comments, concerns, threats? Contact me: jason.chapman99@gmail.com


Salina Cruz




Penelope's ugly, dirty and nasty cousin. I only feel that way because of what has transpired over the last 24 hours. The bike could have stalled on the side of the Mexican highway somewhere with machetes flying around my head, so I am thankful for that. It was just before midnight, and the dogs were barking so much I had to make a move away from behind the concrete wall separating me from the street, and my broken down bike. There was some activity down the street, with what looked like a taxi company. I felt strangely vulnerable going up to this group of 3 or 4 guys washing their cars, but I did. I was so tired and discouraged my working level Spanish was less so. Finally, an understanding that I needed a place to charge the battery on my bike. Then, the owner, a young 28 year old offers for me to sleep there too, and after watching the TV that was placed beside the car wash, and laying down on the dirt, they offered me their hammock. Waking up this morning, a picture of my 'bedroom'. Time to collect my thoughts, I flag a taxi, and he takes me to Yamaha fruitlessly, but they offer a mechanic who's just down the street, non-affiliated. He is optimistic my problem is that battery but after a quick charge-up still no spark on the plugs. We put the bike into the back of a truck with me straddling Bonnie to keep her from falling off or over. As of now, still no solution, after thinking the $1700 part 2 weeks away was the answer. This experience has tested my patience, and despite wanting to be in Costa Rica in 2 weeks, know somehow that everything will work out just fine. Of course that wasn't my feeling this morning.

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