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:


430 came early that Tuesday morning, as I had agreed to meet at 7 am in Rivas, and a long bike ride was between us. Walking across the beach for 10 minutes swept the cobwebs away, and was on the road by 5. It was made a longer journey by the chain falling off, and the front basket holding my computer, camera, flip flops and a book, also came loose forcing me to improvise a couple times using materials from the side of the road. I made it there at 740 am and apologized the jose the taxi driver whom I had thought would have still been in bed at that time.

The three of us went over to get Jose's brother, as Jose had an outstanding ticket he didn't want the police to see. We arrived in Managua by 9 then drove around for an hour trying to find the auto parts place, and when we did, he said we don't have any parts for that kind of bike. I was angry but began formulating a plan. It looked and felt very dire indeed. I couldn't rely on my mechanic for sure. We went to the internet shop and I astarted talking to a few people, ending with Dave from Williams Lake, who said he may be able to help me.

I got back, and swiftly took my chinese new bike in to see if I could trade it for something not made out of tin. No. Absolutely not. Not part of the policy. We argued for a bit, then I decided to give her the bike as a gift. She couldn't say anything about that, but seemed a bit surprised and shocked. Then I bought a used one, promptly finding the gears slipping as I left the shop. Chop Suey chinese restaurant, then off into the dark to get to San Juan del Sur, about 2 hour bike ride. Got there in 1 hour forty, in time to find the Canucks game in the 2nd period. Had funny chats with some guys and a Nova Scotian who called me a douche bag for teasing her about Cape Breton - a bit too much I thought.

Heady from a few nica libres (rum and coke) I headed out for the final hour of ride back through the dirt roads to Playa Madera and consequently Mathilda. Handlebars loosened off, and I was catapulted straight onto my head. That hurt and left me a bit stunned. My computer went flying in its bag. Two guys stopped and helped me move the bike off the road. Had to ask directions in the pitch blackness although I had a light. Left the bike then and chained it to the fence as I had to just drag it by then with handlebars listlessly hung by the side. I had left San Juan after the game at about 11 or so, and got to Madera at 330. Woke up at 5 on the outside couch of the Barrio restaurant, as I was so exhausted walking for 5 km, but headed back to my camp to get a couple hours sleep.

The laptop screen had several cracks and I thought was ruined but I can still use it. Seems I landed on it when I came off the bike.

Laid around a lot today recovering from a very sore body, got an email from Dave saying he has all the parts for me but needed clarification on which cylinder (front or back) so I called Jose to run over to mechanics to find out. As of writing do not know yet which as I couldn't get a hold of him. Then, nice conversations with some Americans (lived in canada for a while)
they let me come with them back to san juan, as I needed to bring the bike back but what about the handle bars? I needed an allan key and hoped that would be enough but the local surf shop worker didn't have one, so I asked a German guy and his wife who had brought their truck and trailer down to the beach. He had some. And it worked. I came back and we spoke a long while about the earth and troubles. He was an engineer who developed Coke and Beer factories all over the world.


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  2. Sorry to hear about your ordeal, but great post, Jason. Keep 'em coming. Inspiring all of us to keep at it,keep going, despite our doubts and setbacks. I think of you often from our tamwood days, dEbs


Videos of my journey