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


Trust

The bellboy knocked on my door about 9 pm and said there were some kids drinking in the park across the street, and that I should move my bike. I got dressed and went downstairs to take a look. I asked him where the other choice was and he put this piece of metal on the step at a 45 degree angle and said here. I thought a minute and remembered who i decided to be on this trip and said no thanks, no molestar aqui, or that I wasn´t worried about anyone bothering it.

Drillbit Taylor was on in Spanish, and I went to sleep.

The bike was still there the next morning. The bellboy noticed my front tire was flat i thought it was just because of how it was parked on the edge of the cement. When I moved it back, the front end was very heavy. Another person said it was flat. Ok agreed. Did someone pull a prank and leak it? There was a calling card saying Villamontes taped to the windshield and I thought for sure that´s what happened. I drove away after saying goodbye and a few people wanted pictures. Asked another fellow where some air is, and he motioned for me to follow him. There was a 16 year old on the side of the road with a compressor. I stopped and he was a friendly kid asking all sorts of questions. I gave him 20 bolivianos twice as much as he asked for. Its about 3 bucks.

260 km later, I stop on the road for a break. The tire feels heavy again. Oh no. I remember the tire repair can I bought back in Venezuela and carefully insert it onto the stem. It worked.

I loath going into cities in the evenings but I had to. I got into Santa Cruz about 4 oclock. After several questions around, I found another young guy at a dirty roadside shack, between 4 blocks of roadside shacks. Traditional Bolivian women with two ponytails and long skirts abound. Sexy!

I ask him if he can do it, and he smiles and say yes. How much. Depends. Mas o Menos. 15 bolivianos about 2 bucks. Then the boss comes out a dirty little fellow resembling a bolivian patrick swayze dirt from head to toe, wearing flip flops and a gold tooth. They set to work. The neighbour gets me a coke, although I originally thought he was a halfwit kinda guy. He and his wife ran the shack next to it and were really nice and friendly. Ended up buying the coke he protested I insisted then an empanada banana and cornbread all for 1 buck.

The tire was back on the bike in a little over 20 minutes. This little guy was an artiste with the tire, and he quickly yet meticulously found the leak, and the culprit. Cost? 3 bucks. I doubled it, feeling like Bill Gates in Africa doling out the millions. The culprit? A piece of metal the size of the end of a pencil lead.

On to Cochabamba........

No comments:

Post a Comment

Videos of my journey

Loading...