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:

Cant Stop This Thing We Started

It was a pensive walk to the mechanics Friday morning, preparing myself for bad news, but also cautiously present that I could be on the road again. They were just opening up as I got there. Some guarded, but relaxed handshakes that turned into fist bumps as I trusted their status update of no oil leaking. The JB weld worked great, and all the better that I was there to see it applied from the ground up. They asked for 1000 cordobas, or about 50 bucks. I gave the old man that (hes a grandpa at 42) and the 24 year old son a 500 cord bill. Thats for all the oil leak problems, and putting in the differential. The brake didnt work long but i have a seat that stays on now too. Oh, and they welded the guard too, damaged from the accident.

3 police stops, and I paid one of them off. The Honduran border was worrisome in my mind, as I had to pay over 220 US to get through 7 months ago. It was actually the Nicaraguan border that did it to me this time. My lengthened stay was fine on my passport, but not on my custom document for the bike. I paid 50 US extra for that, which made everything late, and we had to wait over an hour for lunch break. A nice young kid was helping me out, a custom at most of these border crossings. There are so many different buildings and photocopies and procedures, I find its worth 5 or 10 bucks. This time........ 35 bucks to get into Honduras.

Some more police on the Honduras side, trying to cause problems with my ICBC paper that after 6 months looks like a gum wrapper from Christopher Columbus pocket. I said I would be happy if I made it out of Tegucigalpa by nightfall, and despite a stop at KFC i just couldnt help myself) mission accomplished. I ended up in a rough rough part of town, but got out just in time. Had 6 guys surround me at once when i asked for directions but they were all fine.

The road was getting pretty bad, and since I was out of the city I started looking for a hotel. Bingo! Nice little one, 13 bucks for the nite. Steep hill to get up, worried about getting back down with one brake. Got out at 545 am and I thought it was Gustavo the hotel owner on his horse until he asked for 10 pesos. No! WTF! not Gustavo. I opened up the gate, and then Gustavo came out.

Watched the end of the Jack Kevorkian movie starring Pacino, then found out the next day he had died that day. Imagine being trapped in your body with a terminal illness, and unable to do anything about it except wait to die.

Some mixups with the road BCAA map is 15 years old) but got over here to La Esperanza, anxious to continue on. On the way down, I got from Antigua, Guatemala, to the Nicaraguan border in 40 hours, so I am on pace to be somewhere close tonight pending a quick move through Guatemala City.

Bike is running well. I am constantly worried about when the other shoe is going to drop (where does that saying come from) but forcing myself to enjoy the gorgeous Honduran hills, and take it all in. A subtle grind sound now and then (probably from the brake alterations we did) and a crunch twice but overall oil level is great. I feel like I am riding on a ghost bike....... the way it looked 6 weeks ago, that was the only way I would be riding anywhere on it.

Honduras is funny...... so much American influence in the form of fast food outlets in smaller size cities but so much poverty, and lack of attention. No wonder people put guns in your face...... they dont have enough money to go to Pizza Hut!

On the TV here is a magician show where a masked guy is showing all of the magicians secrets..... he has to have a mask because all the magicians would kick his ass. This is how some people operate..... if it makes you money, breaking personal values are irrelevant.

Its nice to have some mystery in life. Instead, were watching Atlanta houeswives get their hair did, and guys with Tourettes sing someone elses songs, and a bunch of testosterone fueled 20 somethings fight and fuck in a house they cant leave for a month. We cant help it. Its easier to watch someone else live their life then to live our own.

AND..... heres the kicker........ most big name grocery items like Heinz, Coke, or Kraft are spending our food money to advertise their products during commercials for these shows. TV is NOT free..... it is one of the most expensive things in society today, when you look at all associated costs.

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Videos of my journey