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.


Questions, comments, concerns, threats? Contact me:

Nicaraguan Night

It was 1 am when I got into the closest town of Somoto, about 20 km away. The town was dead, so I elected to pass through it and found a gas station with trucks and cars parked around. It seemed quiet, until I turned the bike off. The dogs were barking incessantly; was it because of me? I sat on my bike for awhile, reflecting on the day's hardships, and sussing out the area for a nap. A small, fenced in garden seemed a much softer spot than the hard concrete, but the trucker beside me seemed awake, and I didn't want to attract attention, so I quietly climbed over the waist high fence. So many dogs barking all over town, and the roosters were crowing; I knew I wasn't sleeping much. The trucker came out and spoke to me and although I didn't understand him, I knew he was no threat. Within about 10 minutes a creepy guy in a hoodie comes over, leans on the fence and asks me for money. "No dineros," I replied exasperatingly "Yo pagar todo a la fronterra." He stares at me forlornly, and I elect to just ignore him. At that point, I decided it was ok to not talk to someone if I didn't want to.

That was until the security guard comes over with a large gun. He motions for me to get up and out of the garden, and I ask him where I can sleep. He points to the concrete beside my bike, and I instantly lay down. He stands there and stares at me, and I just put my head on my computer bag and act like I'm sleeping, and ignored the invasion of my personal space. Finally he walked away. It ended up being the coldest and moistest night of my life, forcing me to pull out a blanket.

I did sleep some, and dreamt of meeting my old friends Travis and Dave in Mexico. "Funny how we have to come to Mexico to see each other." Probably a result of having Chris's offer of help on Facebook earlier that day, Travis's brother. The morning came soon, with a truck of horn players blasting out a wake up call, and an awakening town. The chill took some time to take it's leave, as the sun slowly crept above the mountain. The painful night dissipated as the schoolchildren came by and smiled at the bike, and the farmers brought their oxen through with loads of firewood. A woman carried a gargantuan bundle of neatly cut, long and straight wicker on her head, and another man wobbily takes it from her and carries it up to the top of the bus. Everyone has to work.

The security guard ended up being a friendly sort after he took his black hoody off. I was vulnerable that morning and only cared for the sun to come up. He asked me for the catholic charm hung on my handle bar sparkling in the morning sun and in a off moment, I gave it to him to shut him up.

I had to get back into town to pickup cash. A nice fellow starts talking to me in english as I go into the atm, and he tells me he was a geology teacher, but had to quit after 6 surgeries on his neck. He was a paratrooper and trained in the US for the Somoza government, a regime that caused years of discontent for the people. He said he was going to Cuba where the medical system was better. They were lined up at the bank that morning, and chatting up a storm.

When I returned to the gas station I explained to the guard it was a good luck charm that I had given him, and a friend had given it to me. With an exchange of $5, I had it and my good luck back. The morning ride was luxurious, and a welcome stop at a diner for breakfast. Two wonderful experiences: one, a young man showing his skill with a top (such a simple pleasure)

and two, another young man with a broken dolly wheel. I asked him how much it would cost for a new one, and he said about $20 but he was saving up until January. I asked him to promise to send me a picture of the new one after I gave him the $400 cordoba to speed up the process. He happily pulled that thing clunk clunk clunk down the road. Business without borders: helping people and small business with an influx of cash to get them going more efficiently and with an aim to grow and build over the years. Like that new wheel, they may be more able to compete locally, and ultimately globally.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Videos of my journey