not all those who wander are lost | two earthlings ride around the world
 

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The Route:

The route for this trip began to take shape in 2008. Over the past two and a half years of researching, a solid route has formed. A general route was first arrived at by plotting points of interesting locations in Google Earth and then connecting the dots. The route, over the course of planning, has gone through many modifications, and will likely see more changes while on the road. Since the decision was made to stop for 6-8 months in Portugal to work and rest, this route has been broken down into two parts. The first part of our trip will take us from Canada to Portugal.

Part I
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While in Portugal, we will solidify the plans for the second part of our journey. This part of the route, as it is now, is somewhat uncertain. The plan is to ride through Europe and into The Middle East through parts of the world that are somewhat unstable, partially due to the so-called “War On Terror”. After riding through Pakistan and India, the intention was to ride through mainland China, but, after finding out that to do so would mean a costly guided government escort, this part of the route was written off. If we can meet up with a group of riders who are willing to share the cost of an escort through China, this part of the trip can be reconsidered. Otherwise, heading south into Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia and Australia is a viable option. I’ve always wanted to visit Bali, Indonesia again anyway.

Part II
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The Travellers:

Rocky
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• Age: 33
• Born: Hamilton, Canada
• Lives: Hamilton, Canada
• Profession: Electrical Engineering
• Looking forward to the most: freedom
• Will miss the most: Mama and Belle
• Will miss the least: Mondays

Paula
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• Age: 32
• Born: Ponte de Vagos, Portugal
• Lives: Hamilton, Canada
• Profession: Customer Service
• Looking forward to the most: really pretty landscapes, delicious food, and interesting people
• Will miss the most: My little furry meow-meows
• Will miss the least: Winter

The Bike

2007 KTM 990 Adventure
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After doing quite a bit of research, I decided that the KTM 990 Adventure would be the ideal bike for a trip around the world. *Its main competitor, the BMW R1200 GS Adventure, is an excellent long-distance touring bike, but is very heavy and reputed to be a handful in the off-road. The KTM 990 Adventure, according to many, is the best dual-sport motorcycle in the world, especially off the tarmac. Being an inexperienced rider, a bike’s ability off road was an important factor. The 990′s fuel efficiency and tank range can be seen as shortcomings, but can be remedied by carrying additional fuel canisters.

In June of 2009, I took a motorcycle training course and obtained my motorcycle licence. Shortly after, I began the search for my dream bike – the 2007 KTM 990 Adventure. I searched locally and online, and eventually found a new one available at Mid-America Powersports, in Wichita, Kansas. Being a new rider, more experienced 990 riders tried to dissuade me by telling me I was going to kill myself. Being a reasonable person and not one who responds to alarmism, I gathered my confidence and took the plunge, flew down to Kansas and purchased my bike. I didn”t want the 2,200km ride back to Canada to end, but I knew there would soon be more miles of road to come.

Most excellent!
 

Way to take the plunge and hit the road. A giant success surely awaits you. Well done on acquiring your bike, planning the "general route" and pre-planning exceptions. We all no the best laid plans are the plans that change.

Keep up the good work!

If you have any questions about Central and South America, feel free to drop me a line, or read any part of my ride report her:
NJ, NR, NBTTN

You're going to have a great time!

--Alex

Mex City
 

If you come through Mex City send me a PM and we can put you up. Mex City is a great place to visit.

Happy planning!

We rode 2up last year in the Americas, putting ~22k miles on an already old and beaten up 950 Just in case you haven't seen it, go here for everything KTM 990:

www.KTM950.info

That'll keep you busy!!

For Central and South America, Costa Rica, Colombia, Ecuador and Chile are pretty well equipped in terms of KTM dealers and parts. Argentina is pretty good, with the main dealer being located in Juy Juy (a little north of Mendoza). Brazil is well equipped, I imagine, but I never went there, so can only speculate.

One thing to note is the adjustment of the headlamp when riding fully loaded - with my 950 there was not adjustment in the lamp to accomodate the extra weight on the back, meaning that the lamp pointed towards the sky, not illuminating the road at all - not a brilliant thing to realise for the first time when you're 75 miles away from a town on a dirt road and in the pitch black in the highlands of Peru! Just something to check....

All the rest will be on the net somewhere, but if you have any questions just give me a shout.

Oh yeah, change oil often (before the recommended mileage) because of poor quality petrol. And fit a second cooling fan!

All the best

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg After a few delays and a lot of built up anticipation, we were ready and excited to finally greet the road. The house was sold and my belongings were either donated or traded for some shiny quarters. It was sad to part with the past eleven years of my life, but it was also liberating.

Being accustomed to comfort, convenience and close relationships with my friends and family, it will take some adjusting to this new lifestyle. I will miss many things and people, but the toughest thing I am currently dealing with is being separated from my cats. I can’t yet forgive myself for leaving them. Mama is 16 years old and Belle is 11. Although they are safe and being well taken care of by my mom and brother, I hope they will be ok for the next few years.

August 20th, 2011 was day 1 of our adventure. We packed up our gear, exchanged hugs with loved ones and rode through Hamilton one last time until we return.

Good ol’ Hamilton is where this adventure was born. With a population of half a million, it is just the right size for comfort. Known as “Steel Town”, Hamilton is an industrial city located in southern Ontario at the center of the golden horseshoe. With an escarpment separating the upper and lower parts, it is also known for having over one hundred waterfalls.

From Hamilton, we headed north to visit with Rocky’s dad. The weather was beautiful and traffic was flowing for the first few hours, but the roads quickly became congested with vehicles and clouds began to turn the skies grey. It didn’t take long before we got hit with a lot of rain. We chose not to stop and we continued north until the skies cleared. The ride wasn’t as bad as I imagined it could be, but my butt was definitely sore.

Larder lake is a really small town with less than 1000 people. We arrived with just enough sunlight to catch a glimpse of it’s beauty. *Rocky’s dad, Conrad, and his wife, Lorrain, have property that faces the lake. The view is perfect after a long day. We were spoiled with our own apartment above Conrad’s garage and we stayed a few days to spend some time with him. I now know where Rocky gets his charm from.

Three nights and many beers and cigarettes later, we awoke to dark clouds and packed up to ride towards Timmins, Ontario. We went on route to visit with more of Rocky’s Family. His cousin Brandon had offered us a place to stay for the night, and Brandon’s wife Tracey prepared a yummy dinner. Wine, candy and a lot of laughs made for a great night. It is a short but sweet visit in Timmins.

On August 24th, we spent a long day on the road. We saw many gold mines, forests and lakes. The roads were busy with construction and trucks, but I always enjoyed when a truck full of freshly cut lumber left it’s scent. We rode towards Lake Superior and set up the tent near the waters edge. Our first night in our new home was beautifully located, and the thunder helped me to sleep at night. The following day we prepared for another long ride along Lake Superior. We now regret rushing to make up distance because we didn’t take any pictures of the stunning scenery. “Ontario, yours to discover!”

The following day, we made a trip to the university Rocky went to, and took a break for a couple of hours to wash and shower at the recreation center before getting back on the road. By sunset, we reached a town called Ignace and set up the tent on the side of the road. I have to admit, I didn’t want to set up camp there. It was beside a motel truck stop on a small patch of tall grass under a street light. It was an odd and random place, but I slept well.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Having planned and thought about this trip for so long, the anticipation had me wishing that time would somehow speed up so that I could finally realize this journey that had lived inside my head for all that time. In the month or so leading up to our departure date, there was still so much to do that I found myself needing more time to ready ourselves for the trip.

Our original departure date was set for July 23rd, but delays in selling Paula’s house and getting my full “M” motorcycle license set us back about one month. This was somewhat frustrating, but, at the same time, was a bit of a relief. The delay allowed us to better prepare, tie up all loose ends and spend more time with Mama and Belle, and our families and friends.

Our date of departure finally arrived, and we set off from my mother’s house on Kitty Murray Lane in Ancaster, Ontario.

We said good-bye to our families and finally hit the open road. The weather, heading off, was warm and sunny. My motorcycle, Almeida, and I were not accustomed to riding with so much weight. Halfway between Toronto and Barrie, the traffic came to a stall, and was stop-and-go for about, what seemed like, two hours. When it finally broke, we were hit by a torrential downpour. We rode through the rain and the sun finally broke through the clouds as we rode into North Bay. Shortly after leaving North Bay, a bird, flying up from the center of the road, met my forearm and its demise. 656km later, Paula, Almeida and I pulled into my father’s driveway just as the sun was setting. It was nice to arrive after my longest day ever on the bike. All three of us welcomed a good rest.

We spent three nights with my father and his wife. For one reason or another, my father hadn’t been around for much of my life. During these three days, I felt that I got to know more of my father than I did in the first 33 years of my life.

Our next destination was Timmins, Ontario to stay the night with my cousin, Brandon and his wife, Tracy. It was a short ride of roughly 150km, with a brief stop at a bike shop in Kirkland Lake, where Adam, a mechanic at Northern Freedom, helped us changed our clutch oil. That evening, we had dinner and wine with my cousin, his wife, my Aunt Marianne and her husband, Jean.

We left Timmins the next morning to try to make up some distance. Over the next few days, we stopped in Marathon and Ignace, Ontario and, for the first time with no place to stay, we had to find spots to pitch our tent.

Heading out of Ontario, I was a bit disappointed that I hadn’t gotten out my camera much to take photos of the scenery. This was, in part, because I had been trying to make up some time and distance and, trying to get use to the riding, needed to concentrate much on the road.

Our next stop: Alberta.

Awesome! We will be visiting Mexico City. Hopefully, we'll keep in touch.

I was wondering about fuel in South/Central America. Are there octane ratings at the pumps, and, if so, are they reliable? Should I just be disconnecting the fuel map switch under the sea when down there?

I've been on the HOW a bit. I think I did my valve clearance check and water pump rebuild from the tutorials on that site. I'm not much of a mechanic, but I am learning.

Hi
Sorry about my earlier post - I thought you were still planning and hadn't actually started.

Fuel is clearly marked and usually pretty good. The lowest ratings are 80 and 84 octane, found in Peru, Bolivia and Ecuador. I unclipped the wire when running on these fuels and the bike ran fine. I have the carbed model and didn't have an inline filter and the bike still ran fine. Lower octanes are better at altitude (ignite easier) so all in all, no problems.

Happy ridings

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg On August 26th we crossed from Ontario into “Friendly Manitoba”. It was strange riding from thick forest, smelling of pine and cedar, to flat grassland, filled with the aroma of hay and manure. It was a nice change of scenery, but strange because it was so immediate upon crossing the Ontario-Manitoba border. We rode into Winnipeg, set up camp in Assiniboine Park, and, the following day, we rode out of Manitoba and into Saskatchewan.

“Naturally Saskatchewan” looks a lot like Manitoba with many acres of farm land, checkered in all shades of green and gold. We found a great place in Wascana Park to set up the tent and spent the night in Regina, the provinces capital. Saskatchewan is very pretty and, as we rode away the following day, the land began to show it’s beautiful curves.

When we got to Medicine Hat, Alberta. We stopped to meet Piet and Ina, a couple we met on the website .

Unsure of what to expect because the experience was our first, we were comforted by a warm, kind welcome and invited to join them and other guests for dinner. They prepared a feast and introduced us to their son Josh, his beautiful wife Amy and a pair of musicians who were also staying over. Piet and Ina enjoy having concerts at their home and had planned to have one the following night. Romi Mayes and Jason Nowicki would be performing and we were invited to stay another night. With a full belly, a comfortable bed, a few drinks and great company, how could we possibly say no¡ In the morning, we decided to explore Medicine Hat and it’s sloping valleys, by evening we were ready to party. The concert was amazing! Romi and Jason are great people and performers. At midnight, the group of them serenaded me with happy birthday and passed around some cake, it was a perfect way to turn thirty two. To say the least, Piet and Ina are incredible beings. Even with such an amazing trip ahead, we were sad to part from our new friends.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Our final night in Ontario was spent camped out next to the highway. We parked and set up next to a truck stop restaurant and hotel at the side of the gravel shoulder on a nice patch of tall grass. It seemed, at the time, like a logical place to pitch a tent.

Passing into Manitoba the next day, there was an abrupt change of landscape. The long, straight stretches of highway of Manitoba were a welcome change.

Not having had a proper shower for several days, we decided to give CouchSurfing a try instead of tenting out another night. CouchSurfing is a worldwide network for making connections between travellers and the local communities they visit. It is a social network of people who offer travellers a couch or spare bedroom for a night or two. We were contacted by a guy in Winnipeg and were offered a spare room for the night. As we got closer to the city later in the day, we received a text message from him explaining that he had to cancel. This left us having to find a place to stealth camp for the night. We pulled onto the University of Winnipeg campus in the hopes of finding some sort of locker room shower in the campus rec center and a place to pitch our tent, but we were disappointed. We weren’t able to find accessible showers, and all the security cameras on campus didn’t make it a viable option for hiding out over night.

Slightly more hungry than we were tired, we decided to grab a bite to eat and weigh our options. Looking on the GPS, we found a large park in the middle of Winnipeg. This seemed to be a safe bet. We drove over to Assiniboine Park to find hundreds of people gathered with their kids for, what we later learned to be, Friday movie night in the park. We set up our tent in an inconspicuous location, unpacked the bike and settled in the the night. We even managed to snag an unsecured WiFi connection!

The next day was a pretty steady and uneventful day of riding, though finding premium fuel proved to be a bit difficult. Gas stations were few and far between, and many of the ones we stopped at didn’t have anything higher than an 87 octane.

We spent that evening camped out in the central park in Regina, Saskatchewan, pulling in at dusk, setting up the tent, and riding off early the next morning.

Still in need of a shower and not yet brave enough to jump into rivers or lakes to bathe, we decided to give CouchSurfing another try. Paula contacted an older couple in Medicine Hat, Alberta who said that they would be able to host us. We pulled into town just after 5pm and were greeted by Piet and Ina. They offered us their shower and laundry room, and we graciously and anxiously accepted. After washing up, we were treated to wine and cheese, followed by a delicious supper where we were joined by Romi Mayes and Jason Nowicki, a Canadian music duo who would be performing the following evening in Piet and Ina’s garage. Piet and Ina suggested that we stay an extra night to watch the performance, and, without giving it a second though, we accepted.

We spent part of the next day exploring the town and working on trying to get a blog post ready. Evening came and it was time for the show to begin. The opening act went on and, about an hour later, Romi and Jason took the stage only to find out that neither of Romi’s guitars were functioning properly. While everyone waited for a replacement guitar to arrive, I tried re-soldering the wires in the guitar to see if the issue was due to a failed electrical connection. This didn’t solve the problem. The replacement guitar arrived, and soon Romi and Jason were rocking’ out. They put on a great show.

Morning came, we packed our belongings onto the bike, and said our good-byes to our new friends, Piet and Ina. We said our good-byes to Romi and Jason the night before. Rock stars don’t wake up before noon.

We pulled out of Medicine Hat and headed for Calgary.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg On august 30, the weather turned bitter and it was a cold ride to Calgary, Alberta. Luckily it was a short trip because we weren’t wearing the weather liners on our riding gear. The tread on our back tire was wearing thin and since we have to learn to do all the repairs on the bike ourselves, we were about to replace our first tire. Fortunately, we were offered some help from a man named John. He lives in Calgary with his family and he replied to a post that Rocky had placed on the website Adventure Rider Motorcycle Forum. After entering his garage, it was obvious that he loves motorcycles and his enthusiastic stories had me wishing I had my own. It was very kind of him to help/teach us and I thought it was really cool that his wife was also celebrating her birthday that day. With the weather still cold and wet, we were very thankful to have been invited to spend the night in Calgary. It is a great feeling to be treated so well by strangers.

The rain remained by the next morning and the ride felt longer than it should have. As we reached Canmore, Alberta we were only able to get a few peeks at the mountains as we literally rode through clouds. That is when we finally decided that the weather sucked! We had an entire day to waste so we pulled over and spent it at Tim Horton’s. We were hoping the rain would stop, but it didn’t. So, we rode into Banff National Park, located in the Canadian Rockies and before it got dark, we found a great place for our tent.

The following morning we rode to the Athabasca Glacier in Jasper, Alberta. On our way, we stopped at the famously beautiful Lake Louise, but everywhere I looked was jaw dropping. The mountains were majestic, the lakes and streams were all aqua marine in color and I love the smell of fresh air. “Alberta, Wild Rose Country” is incredible but no words or pictures could properly describe it’s intensity.

Just as the sun began to set, we passed the border into British Columbia and stopped in a town named Fields, BC. It was definitely a scenery I wanted to wake up to. The morning was beautiful but during the night, a storm almost blew us away. The tent swayed viciously and at first, I thought it was a bear attack. Ironically, we fell back asleep too tired to care.

When we were in Calgary, John recommended we take a different route than we had planned. We trusted his opinion and am I ever glad. We rode through “Beautiful British Columbia” on winding roads that took us up, down and all around the mountains. These mountains were green, covered in trees and their peaks, smooth. We took ferries across a couple of lakes giving us the chance to stretch and enjoy a different type of ride. After a long day on the road, we pulled into a town named New Denver. We found a very small park on the edge of Slocan Lake and the view was breathtaking. It was a great home for the night but our morning was a rough one. As we packed up, I tried releasing the tent poles to take apart the tent. I was having a tough time but finally managed to bend the pole just enough to have it pop my front tooth with all the built up pressure. Imagine me with a missing front tooth? Haha close call, but thankfully, I still have them all. With everything finally packed, the motorcycle refused to start. A local who lives across the street, had seen our troubles and offered us a boost from his portable battery charger. Within a few minutes, the engine begun to purr. Thanks David!

We finally headed out towards Grand Forks BC to meet a local named Nancy but since we arrived late, she had to go to work and her sister Joanne greeted us instead. Nancy is a kind lady we met on CouchSurfing.org and we were the first she had hosted from the website. When she finally made it home from work, we were pleased to meet her. We shared stories, drank wine, walked around town, and shared many laughs. Two nights later, we had to part ways. I love meeting new friends but I always feel sad to say good bye. We were on our way to Vancouver and the roads we took were a lot of fun. At times I wished I was the one steering but who am I kidding, I’ve had the best seat on this trip. I once thought I might be crazy for wanting to join Rocky on this adventure but, everyday I have been reminded by every moment passed how amazing it is to be experiencing this. I have traveled a lot in my life but nothing beats doing it on a motorcycle.

Looking for a place to take a break, we came across a town called Osoyoos. We didn’t stay there for long but I just want to mention how much we liked it there. Rocky said that it looked like a great vacation spot, I thought it looked like a great place to live. It was really pretty.

The entire ride through Canada, I don’t remember seeing any police, it must have been because they were all hanging out in BC. They were everywhere pulling over groups of vehicles. At one point, the car in front of us and about four cars behind us were asked to pull over. We weren’t sure if we were asked as well so to avoid trouble, we did anyway. As soon as we realized how many of us were waiting for a ticket, Rocky decided that the cop had his hands full so we did him a favor and left to make his job easier.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg With Almeida’s original rear tire tread thinning, I had posted on a internet motorcycle message board asking for tips on changing tires. I was contacted by a couple members of the website Adventure Rider Motorcycle Forum who were willing to help. A guy in Calgary named John emailed me his contact information offered to show me the ropes.

Heading towards Calgary, the clouds became increasingly dark and the air much cooler. We pulled into Blackfoot Motorsports in a frigid, drizzling rain. After picking up a new Pirelli Scorpion, we followed the directions entered into the GPS and arrived with John waiting for us in his driveway. Pulling into his garage and seeing seven or eight motorcycles, including a KTM 990 Adventure, we knew we were in good hands.

After getting the tire changed, Paula and I washed up and headed out for her birthday dinner — all-you-can-eat sushi. John had offered us a place to stay for the night, so we finished up dinner and headed back to his place in the rain.

The next day was just a cold and rainy as the previous. Nevertheless, we loaded the Almeida up with our gear, thanked and said our good-byes to John, and headed towards Banff. Arriving in Banff after enduring a bitterly cold rain, we found a Tim Horton’s to camp out at for a while to rest, dry off and get warm. We waited for several hours for the rain to stop. It didn’t. After about five hours of sitting, we decided to find a place to stealth camp. We found a suitable location on the outskirts of town, set up camp and endured a long, cold night.

We awoke the next morning to some breaks in the clouds that had been overhead for the past few days. The day was spent riding along the Canadian Rockies – to Lake Louise, Bow Lake, and up to the Athabasca Glacier. The scenery was awesome. The sun shared the sky with the clouds, and the temperatures cold, especially while riding. With nightfall quickly drawing upon us, we pulled off the side of the road to camp just outside the town of Field, British Columbia, a picturesque town of approximately 300 people situated along the snowcapped peaks of the Rocky Mountains.

We were awoken in the middle of the night to a fierce thunderstorm. I was sure that the tent would be blown apart by the winds, but I was too tired to care, so I shut my eyes and went back to sleep.

Coming down in elevation the next morning, the sun began to shine and the temperature began to rise. We followed the route John had made up for us through Golden, into Revelstoke, and down along Upper Arrow Lake where we had our first ferry crossing. We continued along twisting and winding roads and beautiful scenery, and stopped just before sunset. We camped out in the park next to a lake in the small town of New Denver along the edge of Slocan Lake.

The next morning, the bike refused to start. My initial guess was that the battery was drained from charging all of our electronics the previous day, even though it was while Almeida’s alternator was turning. The several attempts of fire up the engine were in vain. The battery just didn’t have enough juice to crank the starter motor. Luckily, a neighbour, just across the street from the park where we were camped, heard us trying to start the engine and offered his assistance and his battery charger. After about fifteen minutes on the charger, I tried the to start the bike and the engine immediately fired up. We thanked our new friend, David, for his help, I put the bike in gear and we headed towards Grand Forks, British Columbia.

In need of a rest, a shower and a friendly conversation (Paula and I get sick of each other after several days with just each other), we decided to give couch surfing another try. We contacted a lady named Nancy who agreed to host us for a night or two. We arrived in Grand Forks, and were let into Nancy’s apartment by her sister, Joanne, who lived across the street. Nancy worked at a local pub, and wouldn’t be arriving home until later that evening. We were surprised at how trusting someone could be to let strangers into her home without ever meeting them. Nancy finished work and arrived home at around 10pm. We sat at her kitchen table and talked about everything under the sun as Paula and I polished off a bottle of red wine that Nancy had opened up for us. Tired and tipsy, we took our last sips of wine and hit the sack.

In the morning, Nancy cooked us a tasty organic breakfast, and took us out for a cup of Joe at her favourite coffee shop in town. She offered great stories of her travels around the world, a bit about the history of Grand Forks. Many of the residents of the town were descendants of the Doukobors, a group of pacifist Russian immigrants that settled in the area at the beginning of the twentieth century.

The remainder of the day was spent exploring the town and enjoying its sunshine.

We left Nancy and Grand Forks the next morning. From there, we made a beeline for Vancouver, stopping only twice. Our first stop was a great little town in Southern B.C., called Osoyoos. Riding down into the valley and into the town, it felt like we were in the wine country of Southern California. The buildings were Mexican-style with stucco facades, and the landscape seemed out-of-place for British Columbia. Our next stop was Hope, British Columbia, where the first Rambo movie was filmed. I had hoped to get a photo taken on the bridge during the arrest scene of the movie, but was disappointed after learning that it had been torn down a few months earlier.

We rode into Vancouver and hit, what seemed like, every red light before finally arriving downtown at my friend’s apartment. Vincent, a good friend from Taiwan, greeted us and took us up to his apartment for some much-needed R&R.

The guy with the hat, that's gotta be in Nelson, right?

I think I'm gonna move to Portugal.....

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Before arriving in Vancouver, the traffic was congested. But, with the date being September 5th, a holiday long weekend, it was expected. Rocky’s friend, Vincent, has an apartment in the heart of the city and we were invited to live there for a few days. Being on the 25th floor, we were spoiled with an amazing view.

Vancouver is pretty, but a typical city. It smelled like exhaust, urine, all types of food and perfumes. Lots of people, traffic stops, many tall buildings and a main road of homeless drug addicts shooting up in public. I’m not a fan of big cities but the sandy shores of the ocean, the surrounding mountains, the mainly clean streets, large parks and friendly people, creates an atmosphere anyone can appreciate.

Stanley Park was a few blocks from the apartment and we enjoyed a few walks through it. While taking a few pictures there one night, we walked towards the sound of music and stumbled upon an outdoor Blue Rodeo concert. It was fenced in but we could still watch and hear them perform. Many others had also found their way there and sat on the grass with blankets or lawn chairs while others stood. And, of course, the sweet smell of BC pot occasionally blew past.

It felt great to relax for a few days and I am sure that the motorcycle appreciated us having the chance to change her oil and clean her chain. We were excited to unpack her and ride her bare but the city streets weren’t fun with the constant red lights. So, we rode through the highway named Sea to Sky, recommended by my friend Ryan. The scenery was beautiful and the name of the road was well suited.

After being in one place for so many days, we were eager to get back to our adventure. I’m excited for what’s next, but, I’m also going to miss the comfort of my country. Canada is amazing, more so than I already knew. I’m happy to have discovered it on such an intimate level and very proud to be Canadian. Eh!


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It was good to see my old friend again. It had been almost two years since the last time we had met. Vincent is originally from Taipei, Taiwan, and had moved to Vancouver shortly after the last time we saw each other to try to get his Canadian citizenship.

Paula and I spent much of our time in Vancouver relaxing and exploring the downtown area. It was a time for a much-needed rest and to do some work on the bike. Almeida was ready to have her oil changed, chain cleaned and clutch fluid replaced. A good part of an afternoon was spent in the parking garage of Vincent’s apartment working on the bike.

Downtown Vancouver has many restaurants of almost every type of cuisine. We visited the all-you-can-eat Mongolian grill and some Lebanese Shawarma places a number of times.

Vincent wasn’t working when we arrived on Vancouver. He spent a lot of time at his PC playing the Taiwanese stock market. As a result, Paula and I didn’t get to spend as much time with him as we would have liked to. Vincent’s limited work experience and broken English make it hard for him to find work, but, by the end of our week there, he was able to find a job working in a restaurant kitchen.

On our last full day in Vancouver, Paula and I road up and down the coast and, on our way back, stopped in Vancouver harbour at dusk to take some photos of the downtown skyline. We were ready to pack up and go when we heard, what sounded like, a very good live cover of the band Blue Rodeo. The music was coming from close by, so we followed it and were lead to an outdoor concert venue. There were many people sitting on the grass around its perimeter enjoying the sound of the music and, judging by the sweet smell of the air, the B.C. bud. Paula and I found a spot atop a small hill that allowed us to peer over the fence that surrounded the venue. Looking over, we were able to get a full view of the stage. It wasn’t a cover band, it was the real Blue Rodeo. We listened for a while and then headed back to Vincent’s apartment.

After a good five-day rest, I was feeling a little restless, and was beginning to miss the open road and the feeling of moving from place to place. Paula and I decided that we’d head out the next day and make our way across the border and into the United States.

We woke up the next day, had lunch, packed up and set off from Vancouver after a short stop at the CAA to get my international driver’s licence.

Several weeks earlier, I had contacted an old university friend whom I hadn’t seen since graduation. Paul is his name, and he was living and working in Surrey, British Columbia. On our way towards the U.S. border, we met up with Paul at, what would be, our last stop at a Tim Horton’s. Paul is now married to his long-time girlfriend, and they have two children together. After a short visit over a cup of coffee, we parted and headed for the border.

Great ride report. Keep it up. We leave next June from Vancouver. We look forward to your posts. Sara

Hey, more pictures of Paula please!

Check out the HU Communities as you travel!
 

Hi Rocky and Paula,

Don't forget to contact the HU Communities to connect with our social network of motorcycle travellers ;-) There are almost 700 HU Communities in 109 countries, and they've been going strong since 2001. Check them out as you travel for help with anything motorcycle related, advice on where to eat and stay, and quite often you can crash on someone's couch or spare bedroom.

Keep the stories and pics coming!

Cheers,
Susan

Thanks! We've been contacted by a few people from several message boards, including the HUBB. We also use couchsurfing.net quite often.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We rode to the U.S. border and with it being the day before 09/11, crossing into the states went easier than expected. Although, we did get lectured by the customs officer about having a helmet camera. Our first stop in the USA, was Lake Stevens. My friend, Joey, had just moved there with his lovely lady, Ashley, and their sweet two year old boy, London. I haven’t seen Joey in many years, it was great to hang out with him and meet his new family. Did I mention that he is a phenomenal cook? If he weren’t an engineer for Boeing, I imagine him being a famous chef.

We stayed long enough to share a few laughs and bottles of wine but, after a couple of days we had to hurry out to beat the weather. It feels like we are constantly trying to run from the cold rain. We went to Seattle, where a ferry took us to Bainbridge Island and then we rode towards… a rain forest of course.

Just outside of Olympic National Park, we found a place to camp and fell asleep immediately. Early the next morning, we entered the park and it was like nothing I have ever seen. The trees were enormous and the forest was coated in mosses that blanket trees and drape over their branches. I think it looks eerily beautiful, it would definitely be the perfect scene for a horror movie. We spent the day exploring and left the creepy forest way before it got dark out.

As we rode into Oregon, we headed towards Astoria (if you are old like Rocky, you will recognize the town from the movie Goonies). It is a really cool town with streets so steep, I felt as if I were on a roller coaster. We rode approximately twenty minutes away to pitch our tent at Canon Beach with hopes of watching an incredible sunset, but unfortunately, we missed it.

Excited to see this gorgeous coast, we eagerly waited for morning to arrive. Waking up to fog was very disappointing. We decided that we wanted to spend more time there and contacted a man by the name of Dale, on couchsurfing.org. He invited us to his home and introduced us to his Canadian wife, Wendy, and her mother, Janice.

Later that night, they had taken us for a walk to the beach. It was the first time I had ever walked on a shore with the tides gone out. We stayed up late getting to know each other sharing stories, philosophies and laughter.
The next morning, the sun peeked through clouds and after a nice long walk through town with Janice, we arrived at the house to a delicious warm bowl of soup that Wendy had prepared for us.

Before the clouds could take over the entire sky, we took the opportunity to ride back to Canon beach. Wow! It is definitely impressive. I wish that the ocean had been warm enough to swim in, it was one of the most gorgeous coasts I have been to.

Not ready to leave Dale and his family, we returned to their home and stayed one more night before saying our good-byes.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Thoughts of cheap gas entered my mind as we headed towards our first border crossing. Gas prices is Canada are slightly below the world average, but, in a few remote areas, we paid up to $1.77 per liter ($6.69 per gallon) for premium 91 octane gasoline. Heading into the U.S., I was confident that we wouldn’t be seeing prices in that range.

We pulled up the the border late in the afternoon, and, waiting in line, we watched the border guard perform a visual inspection of the car ahead of us. After waving the vehicle on, he looked back at us with a scowl as we approached the booth. Pointing to my helmet cam, we were told that it was a federal offence to photograph any federal buildings, bridges, or borer crossing. We explained that we weren’t aware of that, and we showed him that the camera was off and not recording. If I wanted to make things more difficult for myself, I would have told him that, if the intent was to thwart terrorism, I’d suggest worrying less about helmet cams and more about foreign policy. I was wise enough to keep my mouth shut. We showed our passports, and were waved on into the United Sates.

One of Paula’s old friends, Joey, was living just outside of Seattle. Paula had arranged for us to stay at his place for a night or two. As the sun was going down, we pulled up to Joey’s house and were greeted by his girlfriend, Ashley. Joey cooked an amazing dinner for us that night. We spend the following day with Joey, Ashley and their son, London, and had another great dinner with more wine and beer.


Having not thought much about it the night before, we awoke in the morning and decided that we should be on our way. We were falling behind our schedule, and there was a lot of distance to make up. We tried to get a hold of Joey, who gone to work early in the morning, so that we could stop by and say good-bye to him since we didn’t get the chance. We weren’t able to get a hold of him, and were disappointed that we had to leave without saying good-bye.

It was a short ride from Lake Stevens into Seattle where we were catching the ferry to Bainbridge Island. Not being too interested in city driving, we headed straight for the port, purchased our ferry ticket, and were soon on board the ferry to Bainbridge Island. The crossing took roughly 45 minutes. After disembarking, we fuelled up and rode around the perimeter of Olympic National Park, in northern Washington. With the sun heading for the horizon, we made a quick stop at Walmart to purchase some soap, beef jerky, trail mix and a cheap bottle of red wine. We had some dinner at Subway, taking in our usual inexpensive, but tasty, $5 footlong. It was starting to get dark, so we thought about finding a place to camp for the night. With not too many options, we decided to keep driving until something turned up. We pulled into the small town of Forks, Washington. It was almost dark and my fuel light had been on for quite a while. We filled up at the nearest gas station, and found a secluded place about 15 km outside of town at the side of the road. After quickly setting up the tent, we settled in for the night and both fell asleep almost as soon as our heads hit our air pillows.

We awoke early the next morning, packed up camp, and headed for the rain forest of Olympic Park. Having camped not too far from the national park, we arrived at the rain forest early, beating many of the tourists that would later arrive. The rain forest was awesome!

Just after noon, we decided to head out towards Oregon. The weather was cloudy and a bit cool. Running low on gas for the bike and juice for our gadgets, we stopped in Hoquiam, Washington to fuel up, charge our electronics and to use the internet.

After a three-hour break, we decided to push on towards Oregon (pronounced, Oh-ri-gun, not Oh-ri-gon). As we drew near to the state border, the clouds began to break and the sun shone at about thirty degrees from the horizon. We raced towards Oregon and crossed the Astoria-Megler bridge into Astoria. Our first stop in Astoria was set into the GPS. Much of the 80s movie, The Goonies, was filmed in Astoria. We rode through the steep streets of Astoria to the Goonies house to take some photos.

After a quick bite to eat at Subway, we hopped on the bike and headed towards Cannon beach. The sun was almost at the horizon, so we rushed to get to the beach for sunset, but didn’t quite make it there on time to see it. It was almost dark when we arrived, so, after getting a quick view of the beach, we headed off to find a place to camp. Driving in the dark, we found a rest stop next to the beach that looked suitable. We used our headlamps to set up the tent in the dark. As we were setting up the tent, a police officer pulled into the lot for his night check. We quickly shut our headlamps off, and, luckily, it was dark enough that we were not seen.

Waking up the next day, clouds were overhead. We packed up our gear and went for breakfast, then over to McDonald’s to use WiFi so that we could try to find a place to stay for the next few days. The area around Cannon Beach and Astoria was interesting, and we really wanted to have some time to see more of it. While at McDonald’s, we met a few other motorcycle riders who were passing through. One, whose name was Patrick, was an American originally from Argentina. He was riding an Italian bike that caught my eye. We spoke for quite a while and he offered a lot of good advice.

After leaving McDonald’s, we decided to drive around a bit and do some sightseeing while we waited for a response from Couchsurfing. We visited a few more film locations in Astoria, and finally Astoria Column – a 125-foot tall tower atop of Coxcomb Hill that provides a 360-degree view of Astoria and the surrounding area.

Nearing dinnertime, we decided to check our Couchsurfing messages and found that we had a response, and a place to stay for at least a night, in Seaside, Oregon. Paula phoned the number provided in the message and spoke with a man named Dale. He gave us an address, and we were soon at his front door in Seaside. Dale met us at the roadside, we parked Almeida in the back, and were given a tour of the house. We also met Janice, Dale’s mother-in-law, and, later, Wendy, Dale’s wife. We all sat down to a dinner that Wendy prepared for us, and, later that night, Dale, Wendy, Paula and I went for a walk on the beach. Dale, in his mid-fifties, has a thick southern accent. This immediately brought a certain stereotype to mind that was quickly dispelled. Dale is one of the smartest guy’s I have ever met, southern accent or not. Sitting around a camp fire, we drank beer and wine and talked into the night until we were all ready for bed.

Paula and I spent the next day visiting the area around Seaside and Cannon Beach. Janice, who is in her 80s, came with us on a long, 2-hour walk around Seaside. We were impressed. Later that day, Paula and I decided to ride out to Cannon beach for some photos and to take a walk on the beach. After returning, we all sat down and enjoyed another tasty dinner, and turned in for the night.

The following morning, we were on our way. We said good-bye to Dale, Wendy and Janice, and we headed eastward.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The clouds were full, threatening rain but we stayed dry while visiting Mount St Helen, in Washington state. It is an active volcano, located in the Cascade Range. It had erupted in 1980, removing most of its northern face and creating a huge crater. It was the deadliest and most economically destructive volcanic event in the history of the United States.

Our goal for the day was to continue riding until we reached Portland, Oregon. We arrived late and it was dark out but we found a great place to pitch our tent near a forest. With the rain hitting hard in the morning, we were glad that the tall trees kept us dry as we packed.

On our way out, we stopped at a KTM dealership to pick up a few things. We were greeted by Steve and Vint when we first walked in. They answered a bunch of questions we had about products, and they also shared a lot of advice with us. Vint had his own sexy KTM 990 ready for a trip to Banff, Alberta that same day. The mechanic, Todd, asked us to ride the motorcycle around to the back parking lot. He met us there with some tools and taught us how to tighten the chain. They were so nice that they even gave us a few gifts, including a spray that easily cleaned the thousands of dead insects that our helmets and windshield had collected. Thank you KTM in Gresham, Oregon for your genuine customer service.

As we continued on our journey, we rode past beautiful, golden fields that suddenly turned black. Even though the landscape had been victim to a forest fire, it still kept it’s beauty. In need of a gas station, we had no choice but to head in the wrong direction. Bend, Oregon was a really nice town and since we arrived with minimal daylight, we pitched our tent in a grassy area on the side of an abandoned parking lot. It seemed like a great spot until the Police arrived. “Hello, is anybody there? This is the Police” we walked out to introduce ourselves and to explain why we were there. They asked for ID, ran our names and joked about us being a couple of Canadians. They told us that we were private property and the hired security called them about trespassers. We got permission to stay, but at 7am the irrigation was turned on. It was obvious that the owner wanted us gone because the grass was yellow and the dirt was extremely dry from being previously deprived of water. Luckily, we were not effected by the sprinklers and did not get wet. Nanner, nanner, nanner :p

During breakfast, we met a sweet couple who recommended we visit an area called Painted Hills. The area looked like smooth piles of sand in colourful layers of red, black and gold, corresponding to various geological eras. We then rode through winding streets until the sun began to set and we decided to camp on the side of the road, nestled in a forest.

The following day, we rode past many cattle farms. At one point, the road was blocked by at least fifty cows. We sat there awkwardly, waiting patiently for them to move but they weren’t going anywhere. Finally, a car pulled up beside us and a lady began yelling, “Don’t stop, drive through the herd. Don’t you know we have a job to do?” What the heck? We were on a motorcycle, not a horse, did we look like we’re supposed to know what to do? As we began to ride, the cows ‘moo’ved aside but some of them snorted snot out of their nostrils as they kicked their hind legs, threatening to charge at us. When the smell was gone, I loosened my grip from Rocky’s waist, opened my eyes and noticed we rode past them without problems. I wasn’t scared, and I definitely didn’t take revenge by stopping in Denio Junction, Nevada, a couple of hours later for one of the best burgers we have ever tasted.

After filling up the gas tank and fuel cans, we rode towards the Alvord Desert. It is in the middle of nowhere, hidden beside the Steens Mountain. Looking more like a mountain range than a single mountain, it stretches approximately 90km. We rode alongside of it, from asphalt onto gravel until we were able to see the Alvord Desert. I felt confused with what I saw. The Alvord Desert was approximately 10 by 20 km, hidden beside the Steens Mountain we were riding on. I wasn’t sure if it was a mirage by the way the sun was shining on the hard, dry, flat sand, but there appeared to be a lake in the distance. Below us was a group of people, and it was strange to see that they had sail boats with wheels. We rode towards them and they introduced themselves as well as their dirt boats. We pitched our tent, opened a bottle of wine, that we had been saving, and our new friends explained that during the day, they raced through the open space as the wind blew them around. How cool!

We were told that the Alvord desert was a dried up lake bed and not far from us were hot springs we could soak in. We stayed up to finish our bottle of wine, under the most incredible sky I have ever seen. It was the perfect night for the stars to show off their home in the galaxy. The Milky Way was very visible, Meteorites were shooting through the sky and we could see planets twinkling and satellites traveling. What a spectacular place!

The following morning, we were invited to eat a delicious breakfast with our new neighbours. Soon after, we relaxed in the hot spring. Upon returning to our tent, we were invited to race around on the dirt boats. The wind was too calm, so we decided to race around on the motorcycle instead. I got tossed and almost thrown as we rode through areas with bushes and soft sand but it was so much fun! Our new friends, Lance and Keith, invited us for beer and dinner, we stayed one more night and the four of us spent it star gazing.
Early the next morning, we all gathered for breakfast and said our good byes. The bike was packed, the fuel cans were emptied into the gas tanks and Rocky found a ‘short cut’ out of the desert on the GPS.

It was a dirt road but it cut the distance in half and Rocky was excited to practice riding on it. The first few kilometers went somewhat smoothly, but once we were too far in to turn around, it became a very bumpy ride. There was deep pockets of sand with rocks the size of pellets and golf balls. My teeth were grinding and my body was stiff from the fear of crashing but i got distracted by a wretched stench. It was the smell of a decomposing dead cow that probably wandered away from the herd, got lost and died of dehydration. We continued past it and I was shocked that Rocky kept control for so long but I was not surprised when we finally tipped the motorcycle as it wobbled through a large patch of sand. We quickly got on our feet, checked for damage and continued towards a paved road or some sort of civilization. A short cut that was supposed to take an hour took three, it reminded me that a short cut is not necessarily the quickest way out. I was happy to end the adventure and continue our journey towards Boise, Idaho on a paved road.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Being on a tight budget for this trip, I have found that one way to eat cheap and relatively healthy food is to eat at Subway. We usually take advantage of the five dollar footlong or, in the mornings, the three dollar coffee and 6″ sandwich breakfast combo. Leaving the coast, we stopped in Astoria for our usual Subway breakfast, and headed back towards Washington state.
We arrived at the turn-off to Mount St. Helens early in the afternoon. From the main highway, it was a 60km drive to the lookout point nearest to the volcano. The temperature steadily got colder as we rose in elevation until we finally reached the national park visitors center at Mount St. Helens. After a short look around, a washroom break, and a few photos, we got back on the bike and headed back down the road from which we came to the main highway.

Hungry and tired, we rode south, back into Oregon towards Portland. With the sun fading, we stopped for some chimichangas and headed into Portland. It was dark by the time we made it into the city. We rode around looking for Forest Park where we had planned to camp. We finally found it and pulled off the side of the road and set up he tent in the dark.

The next morning was a rainy one. After packing up the tent and our gear, we went for breakfast at Subway, and made a quick stop at a camera shop. I had packed my tripod for this trip, but hadn’t noticed that the quick-release plate was not with it. I was in search of a new one since I hadn’t been able to use the tripod without it. Unable to find the specific size for my camera, we left and headed east.

I followed my GPS to KTM of Gresham, which is located just outside of Portland. We stopped there to pick up a few parts for the bike and to get some tips on tightening my chain. All the guys there were really helpful. We spent and hour or two there talking to everyone and getting a lot of good advice and help. Just before leaving, Vint, the owner, ran out and gave us some extra parts and supplies.

It was early afternoon when we road through Mount Hood National Forest, over the pass and down the other side. The landscape quickly changed from lush, green forests to golden yellow fields of grass and farm land, much of which was scarred and blackened by wild fires. We continued southeast until we came to a tee in the road. It was late in the afternoon, and both the fuel in my tank and the light of day were running low. I checked my GPS for the nearest fuel station heading east, but it was beyond the range of the fuel that I estimated I had left in my tank. Neither Paula nor I wanted to chance it. Our best option was to head 50km back west into Bend, Oregon.

Paula, Almeida and I pulled into Bend just as the sun met the horizon. It was well past dinner time, so we decided to stop for food – Mexican again. By the time we finished dinner, the sun had already set, but there was still a bit of light in the sky. We left to find a place to camp out. Driving around town, Paula, Almeida and I found, what appeared to be, an abandoned parking lot in a residential area of town. I parked the bike behind some tall bushes at the endue of the lot, and we set up the tent nearby. After we were all settled in, I decided to walk down to the nearest 7 Eleven for some snacks. Later that evening, while sipping sodas, eating candy and watching TV on my laptop, our tent was illuminated by, what could have only been, a set of car headlights. We immediately knew that it was the police. Paula and I got dressed and walked out to meet the two officers. They requested our passports, and our names were run through the system. We were told they owner of the lot had had a problem with “vagrants” and that the night security guard had seen us and made the call to the police. We explained what we were doing and, after finding out that we had no criminal records, the officers placed a call to the owner and asked if he would allow us to stay the night. We were given the OK, and we enjoyed the remainder of the night not having to worry about being spotted.

We packed up early the next morning and had almost everything loaded onto the motorcycle just before the sprinkler system (that we hadn’t seen the night before) came on. We narrowly escaped getting soaked. We made a quick stop at 7 Eleven for some beef jerky and headed to Subway for breakfast. While we were there, we met two locals who told us about a natural tourist attraction, called The Painted Hills, located in the general direction of our route. They were a bit out of the way, but, we thought, worth the trip. Before leaving Bend, we made a stop at one of the local strip malls since Paula needed a new pair of sun glasses.

Shortly after noon, we left Bend and headed slightly north and east towards The Painted Hills. We arrived there in middle of the afternoon, riding 20km off the main highway into the middle of nowhere. The Painted Hills, striped with rusty red floodplain deposits, were an impressive sight.

Getting late in the day, we made our way to McDonald’s in John Day, Oregon to use the internet and grab a burger. I later regretted the burger. With not too much daylight left, we got back in the saddle and raced towards Burns, Oregon, where we had planned to stop for the night. We didn’t quite make it all the way to Burns, and ended up camping out in the forest about 20km from town.

In the morning, we rode into Burns for some breakfast and to use the internet. By mid-afternoon, we headed out towards the Alvord Desert. The road heading towards the desert was a nicely-paved two-lane highway. We rode up to a section of road that was roughly 1-2km long and bordered closely by a large lake on either side. Riding along, I saw a black cluster in the distance. As we got closer, I realized that they were cows, standing in the middle of the road, hundreds of them blocking our path. Being city folk, we didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure that, if I got closer to them, if they’d get scared and charge the bike. Almeida could take on a cow or two, but not an army of cattle. We stood in the road at a distance and took some photos. After several minutes, a car pulled up and a woman inside yelled at us to ride forward, and that we were blocking the cattle form trying to pass. Irritated by her tone, I told her not to speak to us the way that she did. I said, “We’re from a city, how the hell are we supposed to know what to do in this situation?!” A few other vehicles pulled up and drove slowly towards the heard, clearing a path for us to follow.

We were running low on fuel, so we decided to stop and fill up. Fuel stations in that area were very few and far between. We stopped at the fuel station near the turn-off to the desert, but they didn’t have premium. We asked if the station at Denio Junction, 40km south into Nevada had fuel, and we were told that they did. We made our way to Denio Junction, filled up at the gas station and, being around dinner time, decided to grab a bite to eat at the diner. Paula and I both ordered a burger. We both agreed that it could have likely been the best burger we have ever eaten.

We rode up to the desert around dusk, and, upon seeing it, I immediately got out my camera to take pictures. We got back on the bike and rode down to the edge of the desert where there were a dozen or so campers and pick-up trucks. We thought it would be great to camp out with other people since we usually camped alone, trying not to be seen. Immediately upon pulling up, several of the other campers came to introduce themselves and invited us to sit around and watch the stars. Paula and I thanked them, and, after setting up camp, made out way over with our camp chairs and our cheap bottle of wine. The stars were amazing. With no city lights within 150km radius, the milky way was clearly visible. We sat drinking wine and counting shooting stars until we were both tired and a bit drunk.

I woke up the next morning feeling dehydrated and slightly hungover from the $4 Walmart wine the night before. Paula and I were invited to have breakfast with all of the other campers. Everyone gathered while several of the campers cooked, and we all enjoyed a breakfast together. After breakfast, Paula and I decided that we would head over the hot hot spring that, we were told, was nearby. It had been five full days since we last showered, and soaking in a hot spring was sounding like a great idea.

The wind, that day, was a bit of a disappointment for the rest of the campers, most of whom were there to sail their dirt boats (sort of like a sail boat with wheels). We were offered rides, but there just wasn’t enough wind. Paula went with one of sailors, but there was only enough wind to move them at a few kilometres per hours. A bit disappointed, Paula and I decided to ride Almeida around the desert. We hopped on the bike and rode across the flat, dry, cracked lake bed, weaving in and out of clusters of small bushes, and hitting patches of sand. It was so much fun.

That night, we were invited to have dinner with Keith and Lance, two guys who were camped right next to us. Earlier that day, Lance, who was from Montana, helped me plot a route from Boise, Idaho to Yellowstone National Park. After dinner and a few beers, Paula and I headed for bed. We were quite tired from the day in the sun.

Thinking about it now, we should have spent at least one more day in the desert; it was really awesome. But, that next morning, we packed up our things and made our way out. I followed my GPS to a “shortcut” out of the desert that looked like it would save quite a bit of distance. The shortcut, ended up not being such a great idea. The “road” that we took was mostly large rock, stone, and sand. With a fully-loaded bike and an extra passenger, my riding ability was put to the test. I didn’t have much trouble with the rock an gravel, but the bike was very difficult to control in the loose, sandy soil. I almost lost control of the bike twice going through sand and loose pebble, but, somehow, I managed to keep the bike upright. Trudging along, I noticed the dead and rotting carcass of a cow at the side of the road. It likely got lost in the desert and died of dehydration. There were patches of the road that were relatively compact and flat, and we were able to pick up a bit of speed, and then, suddenly, we’d hit some sand or loose pebble or big rocks and have to slow right down. At roughly the halfway point of the 60km route out of the desert, we hit a large patch of loose pebble. The front tire skidded and wobbled as I applied the break, but, this time, Almeida went down. I looked back to see if Paula was OK. Her leg was trapped and twisted under the left pannier, so I rushed up to lift the weight of the bike up so that she could free her leg. She hobbled up and was sore and bruised, but she was OK. We rested a minute or two, unloaded the bike and heaved it upright. After a few concerned false starts, we managed to fire up Almeida’s engine again and continue along.

After two and a half to three hours riding the length of our shortcut, we finally made it to the main highway. It was a good introduction to what we knew we would have to endure in underdeveloped countries, but It was a relief to see pavement again.

With a lot of distance to make up, we pointed Almeida east and made a beeline for Boise, Idaho, stopping only once to fill up with gas. Nearing our destination around dinner time, we stopped for some Mexican food just outside of Boise. After eating, we made our way into the city to a McDonald’s to use the internet and try to get in touch with Kent, a couch surfer whom Paula had contacted several days prior. We were able to get a hold of him, but he was unavailable until later that evening. We waited around until after 9pm, and went to meet Kent.

Update: We are currently in San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico, waiting for parts to arrive. We couldn't think of a better place to be stuck. :D

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg On September 21, we rode into Boise Idaho to stay with a man named Kent that we had contacted on couchsurfing.org. He owned a granite shop located behind his house and he spent his days selling gorgeous pieces of stone. Since we arrived on a weekday, Kent was busy working when we woke up the next morning. After we were given a tour and introduced to his employees, we took the chance to give the motorcycle a little TLC. She was covered in both white and red sand and her chain was filthy. There was nothing we could do about a few scrapes that she acquired the day before, but I think it gives her more character.

All cleaned up, she was looking good and ready to go exploring. We went out of the city and followed a river through large hills and small towns. I love being able to ride on the motorcycle with the gear off.


Idaho is very unusual, in comparison to where we have been. Wearing a helmet while riding a motorcycle is not mandatory, it was common to see someone riding with their hair blowing in the wind and dead bugs splattered on their face. There were large billboards everywhere, preaching about religion. Just about every car had a bumper-sticker reading something about “If you believe in Jesus, your sins are forgiven” “Only Jesus, can offer you immortality”"Every Saint has a past, every Sinner has a future” or “Sarah Palin for President” and “I partied with President Bush”.

Kent had invited us to dinner, so we returned to his house between 5-6pm. His home is really big and beautifully decorated with an interesting collection of art. There were 3 or 4 kitchens and while I helped to make dinner in one, Rocky helped prepare home made salsa in the other. Just earlier that day, I had wondered why anyone would need more than one kitchen, silly me. After a nice meal eaten outside on the patio, we relaxed by watching an awesome movie, called Motorcycle Diary’s. Unfortunately, we were all too tired to stay awake through it. Well rested, we were up early the next morning, and with some of Kent’s help, I prepared blueberry pancakes for us and his employees. We enjoyed breakfast with some hot coffee and shared some ideas on routes to take or avoid before packing up the bike and saying our good byes.


After stopping for a spare front tire tube, we rode north east for a few hours until we reached a town called Stanley. Hungry, we decided to stop for a bite to eat. The town was tiny but very pretty, and the pizza was delicious. There were many hunters everywhere, and also, a group of the most annoying so called ladies, it made me wonder why the animals were the ones being targeted. With a lot more sunlight left in the day, we continued riding until we reached a town called Salmon and we found a spot by the river to pitch the tent. While Rocky walked to the store for some treats, a sweet lady walking past with her child stopped to talk to me for a while. She offered her phone number and a place for us to stay in the case that we had any troubles camping there. It was extremely kind, so I would mention her name with thanks but my phone has unfortunately deleted all my contacts

With no troubles, we woke up early the next morning and continued riding towards Yellowstone National Park, but we wouldn’t enter the park until the following morning.

There are many tourists visiting Yellowstone national park and I was surprised that we had found a place well hidden to set up the tent for the night. I wondered if I would be annoyed by all the traffic, but, upon entering the park the next morning, I realized that it was too big and too beautiful to even notice all the people. This was the most magical place I have been to.


Fearless Buffalo roamed the land and sometimes crowded the street. We even caught a glimpse of a baby Grizzly Bear in the distance. But, what truly amazed me, was the landscape. It was constantly changing from rolling hills to mountains and gorges. It had fields of many colors, covered in flowers and grasses with huge rocks sporadically placed by past glaciers. There were still bodies of bright blue/green waters and many rivers, some that flowed down water falls. Even more incredible, was the volcanic activity in the area. There were holes in the earth causing geysers of boiling hot water to shoot up from the ground or form pools of hot springs that carved cascades down hills. Some were so large that the hot water flowed across shallow ground causing minerals and bacteria to create a rainbow of extraordinary brightness on the surface of the earth and steamed into a warm mist that filled the air.

With so much to see, darkness fell before we were done exploring. Outside of one of the exits, we found a place to camp for the night. It was on top of a hill, above a small town and we placed our tent on a very large flat rock. A local, collecting fire wood, warned us of some fleshy bones located not to far away but, since we had all scented items in an air proof pannier, no food, our first fire lit, and a loud whistle to scare off the wildlife, Rocky convinced me that it was ok to stay there. Undisturbed, we were alive the following morning and ready to re-enter the park.


With another full day spent in Yellowstone National Park, we rode out just in time to catch the sun setting on the Grand Teton mountains. With only enough sunlight left to capture a few pictures, we tried to hurry so that we could find a safe place to camp, but found it difficult. We had no choice but to ride further than planned until we arrived in Jackson, Wyoming at approximately 9pm. Cold, hungry and tired we warmed up to a full belly of mountain high pizza pie, and found a park to pitch our tent on the soft, plush grass.

Exhausted, we immediately fell asleep. It was a cold but comfortable night as we cuddled close until we were awoken at 4am by a familiar sound. Oh crap! The irrigation had turned on and began spraying water at our tent. Luckily, we personally, did not get wet but having to pack up the wet tent in the morning sucked! There was frost on the grass and my fingers were numb but at least the snot dripping rapidly from my nose froze before reaching my lips. We packed as quickly as possible and stopped to split a breakfast burrito before gladly heading south towards Salt lake City, Utah.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We met Kent late in the evening at a McDonald's new his house. Paula rode in the truck with him, and I followed them back to his place. I parked the motorcycle, and Kent gave us the tour. His place was huge. It had 4 or 5 bedrooms, several kitchens, at least 3 or 4 bathrooms, and a home gym. Kent runs his business of selling stone out of his home. His warehouse and much of his large lot were filled with an amazing collection of marble, granite and limestone slabs.

Kent is a very cultured and well-traveled guy. His house is full of painting, photographs, sculptures, statues, rugs, and other artifacts from all lover the world. Kent is also very religious, although he considers himself to be spiritual despite accepting Jesus Christ as his personal savour. Having just met, and being late in the night, we managed not to get into the religious discussion too much. The three of us talked for a few hours over a couple of beers and, when we got tire, headed to bed.


The next day we gave Almeida a wash and cleaned her chain. Kent suggested a route for us to ride in the area surrounding Boise. After lunch, Paula and I got on the bike and rode through the mountains and hills surrounding on the outskirts of Boise. We arrived back around dinner time. Kent and I went grocery shopping while Paula stayed at the house and got everything ready to prepare dinner. While shopping, I got to talk to Kent about politics a bit, one of my favourite subjects, despite it being one of the ones that "you really shouldn't talk about".

After dinner, Kent, Paula and I decided to relax and watch the movie. The Motorcycle Diaries, one of Kent's favourite films, seemed appropriate. Half way through the film Kent, nodding off, decided to hit the sack, and, shortly after, Paula and I found ourselves falling asleep and also decided to turn in.

We awoke the next day and started to pack up. Kent cooked us a nice breakfast and we chatted with some of his coworkers and friends. One of his employees, Jeff, had found a new job in San Antonio, Texas, and mentioned that he would be moving out there in several weeks time. He offered us his contact information and a place to stay if we decided to pass through there.


Before leaving Boise, Paula and I decided to visit Happy Trails, a well-known adventure motorcycle shop in town. We spoke with a few of the guys working there and picked up a spare front tube.

Shortly after noon, Paula, Almeida and I set out from Boise to ride the route to Yellowstone that Lance, our friend from the Alvord Desert, had helped plan for us. The scenery around Stanley, Idaho alone was worth the ride.

That night, we stopped in the small town of Salmon, Idaho to camp. We rode around town and found a spot by the river to set up the tent, ignoring the "no overnight camping" sign. After getting settled in, I walked to the nearest gas station for some drinks and snacks, while Paula stayed back at camp. Paula had struck up a conversation with a woman who was taking her young daughter on a walk along the river. The lady, whose name I have forgotten, gave us her number and address in case we had any problems with police that night.

The night passed without any run-ins with the local police. We packed up, went for breakfast, and made our way out of town. The plan for the day was to get to the edge of Yellowstone National Park. We rode into Montana - through Wisdom, south to Jackson, then east towards Wyoming. It was dusk by the time we arrived in West Yellowstone, the small tourist town at the west entrance to Yellowstone National Park. Driving through town, we found a field between a McDonald's and two hotels that had a nice cover of pine trees where we knew we could safely camp for the night. We waited until it started to get dark so that we would not be easily seen, then headed into the centre of the field, behind tree cover, and set up camp for the night.


Paula and I packed up in the morning, went for breakfast, and headed into Yellowstone National Park. We purchased the $80 interagency pass, which would allow us both entrance to all the national parks and many other state parks for the period of one year. We spent the day riding from the west entrance of Yellowstone, down to the south end of the park and all the way up the east side. We visited Old Faithful, a huge geyser in the south end of the park, and saw many kinds of wildlife roaming freely. Yellowstone was just awesome!

I'm sure that we could have found a place to stealth camp that night inside Yellowstone, but Paula and I decided to head out the north exit to camp, as if the wildlife was somehow confined to the imaginary boundary surrounding Yellowstone. Leaving the park, we crossed from Wyoming into the small town of Gardiner, Montana. After grabbing a quick dinner at the Subway in town, we went through our usual routine of looking for a suitable place to camp. We rode up to the top of a large hill overlooking the town of Gardiner, and found a large, flat, open area that we thought would be good for the night. Upon pulling in, we saw a young couple, who appeared to be in their early twenties, gathering firewood into their truck. The girl and I acknowledged each other as we passed, when she warned me that she had seen bones with meat on them where she had been gathering wood. Despite the warning, it was getting too late and too dark to be looking for somewhere else to camp. I also thought that, if there were bones with meat on them off in the distance, there was no reason for bears to come near our tent.


Wearing a headlamp, I began to gather fire wood in the area while Paula set up camp. That night, we had our first campfire. I kept the flames going late into the evening. The wind picked up during the night, and, in the morning, there was a light layer of dust, ash and fine dirt that had blown in while we were asleep.

After packing up and grabbing some breakfast, we spent the day riding through Yellowstone, seeing some of the things that we hadn't seen the previous day. Ideally, we would have needed at least four full days in Yellowstone to see everything that we wanted to see, but we knew the weather would soon be turning cold and we needed to start heading south.

Getting late in the day, we raced towards Grand Teton National Park, arriving at the mountains just before sunset. We stopped to take some photos at a few spots along the way. Getting low on fuel, we needed to find a gas station to fill up. Heading south, we came to a tee in the road, and I checked the GPS for fuel stations. The nearest was 15km east. Our route headed west, but this was our only option. We rode towards the gas station and the sky got darker. After filling up, we had a quick look around the area and realized that there were no good spots to camp, so we decided to head into Jackson, Wyoming for the night, which was just under 60km away.

Being an area with a lot of wildlife that tends to venture out onto the roads at dusk, we rode cautiously towards Jackson in the dark behind the inadequate illumination of my front headlight. With the sun having set, the air got colder and my hands began to freeze. With stone-cold fingers, barely able to work the clutch, we arrived in Jackson, Wyoming to discover a really interesting country and western cowboy-themed town.

We were hungry, so we stopped at a (not so country and western) pizza parlour in the centre of town to eat. After polishing off a large deluxe pizza, Paula and I headed out into the residential part of town to try to find a place to camp. We found a public park and pulled in to check it out. The spot looked good. We checked for irrigation heads but were unable to see any, picked a spot, set up the tent, and settled in for the night. In the morning, we would be headed for Salt Lake City.

Hi Rocky and Paula,

Fantastic blog - Whilst being stuck here currently as a wage slave in the freezing cold UK, it's been inspirational reading about your adventures, and your photos are stunning. I hope you can keep to your schedule as there is fantastic riding in the Alps in August ( I'm hoping to get there too! ). Keep up the good work.

All the best Mike

Can't wait for the warmer climates and beach scenes!
Paula did pack her bikini I hope:clap:

She's got her bikini, you perv.

Very enjoyable reading and the pics are great ! :thumbup1:

Thanks for taking the time to post them

Congratulations on taking the plunge, guys! The one thing that immediately caught my attention (on your blog) is the quality of your photos.

Please satisfy my curiosity: which camera and lens do you use?

Thank you for showing us your trip!
Very,very nice photos.......gracias.

3,5 months no update?

earthlings who wander
 

earthlings, please advise when you arrive Argentina and then Spain. Elisa and I are members of HUBB's Buenos Aires community, but currently living in northern Spain. Will return to Argentina this year.

How was Mexico? Are you enjoying Central America?

Eat, Drink and Be Careful

xfiltrate

What the heck???

You get me absorbed into this great start of a wonderful trip...

....and then you quit posting????


WHAT THE HECK!!!!! :confused1:

Sorry about not updating. Paula and I were involved in an accident in El Salvador back on January 7th. WE both were completely uninjured, but the motorcycle suffered a lot of damage (broken frame and totaled front end).

We flew home on January 14th and had the bike shipped back to Canada. After almost four months and a lot of headaches in dealing with the shipping agent (we had to get the El Salvadorian Embassy, in Toronto, involved to get things moving), we finally received the motorcycle back in Canada last week. Our plan is to rebuild the motorcycle and continue our trip. We have had an offer from a local dual sport shop (Dual Sport Plus) for some shop space and access to their mechanic, which is ideal. We're currently in the process of ordering parts and hopefully we can start work on the bike soon. If everything goes according to plan, we should be back on the road by September.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We pulled into Salt Lake City just as the sun was setting behind the mountains. The sky was glowing pink, peach, orange and yellow, creating one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. After grabbing a snack to eat, we rode around the city searching for a place to camp. Salt Lake has many large beautiful parks but, they were all well lit and difficult to hide a tent and motorcycle. As we rode up a large vacant street we noticed a car that ran out of gas, we pulled over to help push the vehicle and out of no where approximately ten strangers sprinted together from different directions to help as well. It was a sweet moment to have witnessed and a great reflection of this city’s kindness.

Before continuing our search, we stopped at the gas station to prevent from running out of gas as well. We met a drunken couple there who started a conversation with us and when we asked if they could recommend a secluded place where we could camp, they told us of a park located just minutes away. The park was very dark, surrounded by bushes and hidden in a valley between mountains. We decided to place our tent in the far end of the park, near the bushes and under a large tree. As I was setting up the tent, Rocky walked around with a flashlight to check out our surroundings.

Through out this journey, Rocky has been fearless, so I was very surprised when he called me over and I noticed he was frightened (he denies this). He asked if I could hear strange noises in the bushes and although I heard strange, growling, screeches, I wasn’t sure what I was listening to so I headed back to finish setting up the tent. When we began this trip, I had told Rocky that I wanted to purchase bear spray, a stun gun and a large sharp knife but he knew that I would only hurt myself while handling a weapon. After convincing me that a loud whistle would be the smartest and safest protection, every time I was frightened, I would sleep well while holding my whistle. As we sat in our tent that night and continued to hear creepy noises, I asked Rocky to pass me my whistle. His response was, “I don’t feel like looking for it right now. Besides, that whistle won’t do shit for you.” The following morning, when he admitted to having nightmares, I couldn’t help but grin vengefully.


After packing up the bike and having a bite to eat, we arranged to meet Jill from CouchSurfing. She was very soft spoken and polite but also really sweet for letting us stay with her at the last minute. It would have been nice to have gotten to know her better but she had previously made plans and was only able to talk for a few minutes. There was a beautiful large trailer parked in her driveway and she welcomed us to stay for as long as we needed. Although Rocky and I love hanging out with new people (because we are usually only around one another) it felt great being able to relax by ourselves in a place that felt our own. We picked up some Chinese food and beer, and while we were enjoying eating and drinking, I began to notice my surroundings and wondered if Jill had a ‘thing’ for Santa Clause. There were many pictures, CDs, DVDs and books about Christmas and Santa everywhere. The next morning, as we were packing, there was a knock at the door and everything began to make sense. Santa was outside the door and he introduced himself as Jill’s husband, Bill. He explained to us that he is a professional Santa and he uses the trailer as his change room/workshop. Bill was a very jolly man and he seemed to be just as kind as Jill. He invited us to stay longer but we were packing up and getting ready to meet up with Brian.

Rocky met Brian on Adventure Rider Motorcycle Forum and he had asked us to stay with him and his family while riding through Utah. He owns a KLR and rode to meet with us at the Wasatch National Forest entrance. It was a scenic ride through the mountains and past Sundance before reaching Provo, Utah. As we neared Brian’s home, we stopped at the grocery store and offered to pick up a bottle of wine to go with dinner but we were given the impression that it wouldn’t be a good idea. I felt it was strange and I wondered if Brian was either a recovering alcoholic or a Mormon. Seconds later, we stopped at a street light and Brian pointed to a statue of a golden angel holding a trumpet. He told us that the trumpet would sound when Jesus arrived, Brian was definitely a Mormon.


We got to his home and met his lovely wife and children. Janene was very quiet and shy but that didn’t last long. She was funny, personable and prepared a delicious meal. For dessert, Janene offered us some green jello made with carrot shavings and told us that our experience in Provo, Utah wouldn’t be complete without it. I didnt understand why, but she informed me that it was a Mormon joke and google informed me that it was a popular Mormon snack. I was surprised that it actually tasted good. Their children Layton and Liam were well behaved and very cute. I was amazed that at the age of 2, Liam was not only able to run very fast but he also had a natural ability to climb high and quickly. I predict that he will be a mountaineer when he grows up. The next morning, just as we finished packing up our things, Janene showed up with a key lime pie and lit candles to surprise Rocky for his birthday. It was extremely sweet and it made Rocky blush.

Back on the road, we headed towards Moab. It was nice to watch the landscape change drastically. As we finally arrived, there were dirt bikes, motorcycles, climbing gear and hiking boots everywhere, it became obvious that Moab was an active city. Our first night there, we camped in a field beside a motel. After packing up the bike in the morning, we decided to ride through Arches National Park. I really liked it there, the earth was decorated in the most beautiful red coloured sand and rock. There was a lot to see and we quickly discovered that we would have to return the following day to do some hiking.


Later that night, we met up with Chris, who we contacted on CouchSurfing. He had just gotten off of a long shift at work and we were offered home made beer as soon as we got comfortable. Since it was Rocky’s birthday, it was nice to cheers with beer that put most brands to shame. I really liked Chris, he was a nice guy and he had a lot of information to share. It surprised me that he wasn’t a park ranger.

Early the next morning, Chris went back to work and Rocky and I were awoken by roosters crowing. Excited to explore, we rode through Canyon Lands national park and with all the gear off the bike and we took Potash road down into the canyon. The road was dirt, narrow and steep but the view was incredibly stunning. I’m afraid of heights and, at times, I feared the depth of the canyon, but I was mostly afraid when Rocky admitted that the back brakes had failed. He tried to reassure me that his front brakes still functioned, but being on a narrow, bumpy, dirt road without back brakes made me feel a bit uneasy.

As we continued riding, I got flash backs of watching cartoons as a child. I kept noticing the same type of bird running past so quickly that I could barely see its feet, but there was no coyote in sight. I always wanted the Wile E. Coyote to catch Road Runner but I now understand why it wasn’t possible, Road Runners are fast!


We continued on Potash until we reached a paved road, with centuries-old petroglyphs carved into the cliffs by Native Americans. We returned to Arches National Park, but this time, we wanted to hike through the canyons. What a great way to spend a day!

Since we hadn’t properly celebrated Rocky’s birthday yet, I took him out for dinner where we both tried Buffalo, Elk and Boar. It was all very tasty but I liked Elk the least. After our meal, we went back to Chris’s and he had just arrived from work. He poured us some shots of the best whiskey we have ever tasted and showed me some pictures after Rocky passed out. After packing up the next morning, Rocky and I took Chris out for sushi before having to say goodbye. I highly recommend visiting Moab, meeting Chris and eating at Sabaku Sushi.


http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The night in Jackson, Wyoming was a cold one. We were awoken before sunrise to the sound of water splashing against the outside of our tent. It sounded like the sprinklers of the irrigation system we must have missed it in the dark the night before. We had to wait until the sprinklers stopped before we could leave the tent. Luckily, the sprinkler head closest to our tent was just outside our gear shed vestibule. If we had placed the tent a six inches to the left, the sprinkler head would have been inside the gear shed and we would have had a wet morning. It was a close call.

The sun rose above the trees and melted the frost covering the motorcycle. We loaded up the gear and decided to go for breakfast. We had met some local kids the night before in the park who were drunk and climbing on the outdoor climbing wall. They had recommended a breakfast burrito place in town, so we decided to check it out.

After polishing off the burrito and making a stop at McDonald's to use the internet, we hopped on the bike and made the, roughly, 450 km journey towards Salt Lake City, Utah. The weather was warm and sunny. The riding was steady and we were able to make good time. The sun neared the horizon when we were still about an our away from Salt Lake City. We rode the final 75km in into the city under a quickly darkening sky.


Paula, Almeida and I arrived in Salt Lake City about an hour after the sun had set. We rode in on the i80, westward over a hill that gave us a amazing view of the city lights and a dark red glow on the horizon. Salt Lake City look enormous.

Without a place to stay, we decided to look for an internet connection so that we could plan our night in the city. After spotting a few place on Google maps, we decided to head out and find a place to sleep.

Riding around town looking for a place to camp proved to be quite difficult. We rode around the city for over an hour looking for a place to set up the tent. The public parks in Salt Lake City all seemed to be too well lit for stealth camping. After visiting two major city parks, we decided to head up to the University of Utah to see if we could camp there. On our way there, we saw a car stalled on a hill. I pulled over to the side of the road and ran over to try to help push. At the same time, a group of university-aged kids ran over to help push as well. The driver of the vehicle had run out of gas.

Unable to find a decent camping spot on the university campus, we set off to find a gas station since the fuel light had been on for quite a number of kilometers.

While fuelling up, we drew the attention of a middle-aged couple who appeared to be quite drunk. They approached us and asked us about our trip, and we told them that we were looking for a place to camp for the night. They recommended a place not too far away from where we were that was secluded. We thanked them and followed their directions to what is know as "dog park". The park, situated at the base of steep hills that were surrounded by apartment buildings, was dark and quite secluded. Paula and I both heard eerie sounds coming from the darkness of the trees that we both had nightmares about that evening.

In the morning, we packed up and went for breakfast. We spent the day hanging out, working on photos and the blog, and trying to find a place to couch surf for a night or two. Paula made contact with a lady, named Jill, in a suburb of Salt Lake who offered her camper for us to sleep in. We arrived at Jill's place just after 5pm, met her and her niece, and settled into the camper for the night.

That night, I was contacted by a guy named Brian, who was also a member of the motorcycle message board, advrider.com. He live in Provo, Utah, and had offered us a place to stay for a night. We planned to meet him the following day for a ride through Wasatch Mountain State Park and into Provo.


We left Salt Lake City the next day in mid-afternoon, and met Brian the at the entrance to the park. All three of us rode through the mountain pass and over the other side, through Sundance and into Provo. Brian made a quick stop at the store to pick up some things for dinner. We asked if he'd like us to pick up a bottle of wine, but he said that might not be a good idea since they did not drink. Paula and I were beginning to wonder if Brian and his wife were religious, not knowing, at the time, that Provo, Utah is the Mormon capital of the universe. We came to a stop light on the way to Brian's home and Brian pointed out Bringham Young University and the trumpet-blowing angel. We immediately knew he was a Mormon. We had been warned by a few people to watch out for the Mormons. We didn't understand the reason for the warning, but I thought that this would be an interesting experience.

We arrived at Brian's and met his wife, Janene, and his two young children. Janene cooked us a great chicken dinner, with Jello and carrots for desert - a Mormon tradition. We all talked for a while after dinner. Brian asked Paula and I what religion we belonged to - Christian or Catholic. I responded by saying , "to be honest - I'm an atheist." Brian's face turned beat red, which I assumed was the embarrassment of bringing a non-believer into his home. I asked Brian and Janene about Mormonism. They said that they'd answer any questions that we had, but he seemed not to want to get into a religious discussion.

We awoke the next day, showered and started to pack up the bike for the ride to Moab, Utah. Janene was at work and, while we were loading up the bike, Paula and I got into a religious discussion with Brian. The conversation, as ones such as these so often do, snowballed and became quite intense. Put an Atheist and a Mormon together for long enough and a spirited discussion about religion is almost inevitable. Besides, I trip through the Mormon Corridor would not be complete without a good religious debate.

Janene returned home from work and surprised me with a lemon pie with some candles on top. It was my birthday, which both Brian and Janene had know, but this took me completely by surprise. I was a bit embarrassed being the center of such unexpected attention, and my face went as red as Brian's had been the night before.

After finishing off a piece of pie each, Paula and I had to get going if we wanted to make it to Moab before dark. We said goodbye to Brian and his family, and set off for Moab. Despite our philosophical disagreements, Brian and I got along quite well. Brian is a great guy with a kind and wonderful family.

It was dusk by the time we made it to Moab. We took a quick look around for a place to camp, and went to look for an internet connection. We wanted to wait until it was a bit darker to set up camp. After dark, we set out and found a spot in a large field near a hotel, and, after setting up camp, we settled in for the night.

We packed up in the morning and, after a quick Subway breakfast, Paula, Almeida and I headed out to spend the day exploring Arches National Park. We visited many of park's attraction, which took the major part of the day. Just before sundown, we head back in town to use the internet to try to find a couch to surf for a few nights. Paula contacted a guy named Chris, who said that he'd meet us after he got off work. We met Chris late in the evening outside of a grocery store in the center of Moab. Paula rode with Chris and I followed them back to his place. Chris is a really cool guy who works as a radio show host and waiter. We all hung out, had a few drinks and were later joined by another couch surfer who was a traveling musician.


Paula and I spent the next day riding around Canyonlands National Park. We arrived shortly after noon and decided that we'd ride along Potash Road. We took the route that lead along the edge of the canyon and rode down a switch-back that descended into the canyon. Halfway down, Almeida's rear brake completely failed, leaving me only with front braking power. After safely making our way to the bottom of the canyon, I allowed the bike to rest. I assumed that the heavy use of the brakes had caused the fluid to overheat and fail. It was a good opportunity to take a few photos, and, after a short cool-off period, the rear brake seemed to return to normal. Potash Road is an unpaved dirt and rock road that cuts through the canyon and leads back towards Moab.

Having not had the time for the hike to Delicate Arch the previous day, Paula and I decided to return to Arches National Park. The walk from the parking lot to the arch took almost an hour. We took some photos and hung out around the arch for a while. With very little daylight left, we decided to return to the bike and head for dinner.

We rode to the exit of the park and headed back into Moab where we spotted a steakhouse on the outskirts of the town. Since we hadn't had time the previous day, Paula wanted to take me out for a birthday dinner. I was craving a steak, but, wanting to stay on budget, I decided to opt for a more affordable meal. Paula and I finished up dinner, and we arrived back at Chris' place just after 9pm. I was exhausted and decided to hit the sack. Paula stayed up with Chris' for a while, hanging out and talking before heading to bed.

We packed up our gear in the morning, and rode into town with Chris for lunch. There was a good sushi restaurant in town, and, having been a while since we last had one of our favourite meals, we decided to check it out. Chris' friends were the chefs, and they prepared a great selection of dishes for us.

We left Moab shortly after noon. The sun was shining and the air was warm, but the bright, blue skies eventually turned dark and cloudy. The ride ahead into Colorado looked like it would be a wet one.

I am sorry to hear about the accident, at least you where both unhurt. Don't give up the dream.

Colorado (October 3 - October 5, 2011)
 

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The weather was warm when we had left Moab, Utah, but it got much cooler as we entered into Colorado. It was a drastic change leaving the dry, sandy bedrock for dense fields and valleys that looked painted with autumn colors. The mountains were gorgeous with beautiful red peaks and there were areas where the soil was such a deep yellow that small rivers looked like they were flowing with liquid gold. As we rode through many switchbacks and gawked at USA s little Switzerland, I was afraid that Rocky was paying more attention to the scenery than the road because the view was truly captivating.

Darkness approached quickly as the sun set behind the tall mountains but we continued to ride so that we could escape the bitter cold of the high altitude. Once we reached Durango, Colorado, we stopped at McDonald’s to warm ourselves with a hot cup of coffee and to use their notoriously shitty free Internet to search for a public park. We rode up to what seemed to be a perfect spot to set up our tent and I immediately recognized the soft plush grass to be a sign of an irrigation system. I spent a few minutes crawled on all fours feeling for sprinklers but I wasn’t able to find any. Tired and anxious to relax , we unpacked and just as we finally got comfy the damn sprinklers turned on. I panicked at first because we were being sprayed from every direction but luckily none were spraying in our tent. Just as we had mentioned our luck, the cops arrived. It was awkward timing and I wanted to pretend I couldn’t hear him over the sound of splashing but his lights were blinding me. I needed perfect timing as I ran out of the tent to avoid getting soaked and I hoped that that was enough reason for him to allow us to stay. He asked what we were doing and he told me we would have to leave, especially since the motorcycle was prohibited from being in the park. Exhausted and irritated I had no other choice than to batt my eyelashes as I told him about our trip and explained that it was too cold, wet and dark to continue riding. My lady skills worked and he kindly gave us permission to stay for the night.

Early the next morning it was interesting to wake up to an old fashioned coal-fired, steam-powered locomotive filled with passengers as it choo-choo’d by. The park was busy with people starring at us as they jogged past and I was confused when an older man tried handing me ten dollars for breakfast. Minutes later the police showed up again but it didn’t matter what they had to say because we were leaving anyway.


After we packed up, and went to subway for breakfast, it began to rain. We decided to hang out there until the sky cleared but it only began raining harder. Shortly after arriving, the manager stopped to talk to us, he noticed the motorcycle fully loaded and was curious of our travels. We had asked if he minded us hanging out there to use the Internet as we searched for a place to go and he told us to stay as long as we needed. Hours later and with no luck couch surfing, the manager approached us and said that he had phoned his wife and got her approval to invite us to stay with his family for the night. We were very surprised and obviously happy. When we arrived at Mikes house, we were introduced to his wife Stephanie, their son Davis and daughter Stevi, they immediately made us feel very comfortable and welcomed. After a cold rainy day it felt great to have a hot shower and a bowl of stew for dinner. Mike and Stephanie were a very funny, charming couple, and their kids were extra cute. While Mike and Rocky talked about what routes we should take, I got to relax while Stevi played the piano for me. I really enjoyed hanging out with this family and I especially liked the gift and note that Stevi and Davis had made for us. It felt great to spend the night in such a comfortable environment.

The following morning we were well rested and ready to visit Mesa Verde National Park. The area features numerous ruins of homes and villages built by the Ancestral Puebloan people (sometimes called the Anasazi), and is best known for cliff dwellings, which are structures built within caves and under outcropping in cliffs. It was beautifully well preserved, and before I nearly squashed a tarantula as I was walking, I imagined that it could have been a fantastic place to live. I am not a fan of spiders, I am petrified actually but as soon as I noticed this one, I couldn’t help but stare at it for a few seconds, it was huge. As I was admiring it, a girl, maybe 7 years old, was running backwards laughing and singing. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was stepping and as she came awfully close. I had to stop her and warn her to be careful not step on the spider. She starred at me with a very bratty expression on her face, she was probably wondering what kind of person goes out of their way to protect a spider from getting stepped on. I pointed to the tarantula for her to see it and her reaction was priceless as she screamed in horror and cried hysterically. Maybe I’m mean, but I laughed about it most of the ride back into Utah.

You have an eye for great photos, keep them coming. I'll keep checking back.
BTW great trip!

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We pulled off to the side of the road where we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere yet in the center of it all and decided it was the perfect place to stay for the night. The scenery was incredibly wondrous and definitely the most memorable place I have ever awoken to. Utah is impressive! Different than what I’m used to seeing, it displays imposing mountains and flat-layered plateaus brightly coloured red, orange, peach and beige sandstone, sculptured from an ongoing process of wind and water. With over two billion years of accumulated rock, climate and erosion have exposed an extraordinary diversity of geologic structures with little vegetation. It was no surprise that the area was named Valley of The Gods.*We awoke, packed up camp early and spent a long moment staring into the calm distance that surrounded us before stopping by Monument Valley for a few pictures.


All I could think of on our way to Lake Powell was the grumbling of my empty belly. Even though there was nothing in sight to eat except for some shrubs, I was tempted to cook one up and sprinkle it with salt. Once we arrived to Lake Powell we had planned on taking the Ferry across but we missed the chance and the next Ferry crossing wasn’t until the following morning. Starving, there were no restaurants, just a convenient store. It was shortly after 5pm and luckily we walked through the door just before it was locked for the night. It was a tiny room with only a few brands of chocolate bars, a couple of cans of beans and few bags of potato chips. We bought what seemed like half of the store and sat at a picnic table as I attempted to cook the beans on our camping stove.

I love to cook but since being on this trip I have had the opportunity to do so only sometimes while couch surfing. Otherwise, we are eating a $5 foot long from subway because it’s affordable and somewhat healthy. Dinner was made! Cool Ranch Doritos, Pork and Beans with a Snickers bar for dessert and Ginger ale to drink. It was gross but I appreciated something other than Subway. Once we were done eating we began to unpack and prepared to set up the tent. Since there was nowhere to really hide, we had no choice but to be exposed. A man walked over to us and then explained that we would be fined if the park ranger caught us, he told us that he was in charge of a nearby camp site and invited us to stay there for free. We obviously agreed and were thankful to sleep in a great location that overlooked the lake.


Lake Powell is a very pretty, large lake but the short ferry ride across it made it seem much smaller. As soon as we were on the other side, we began our day with a delicious breakfast omelette, I was very pleased to eat something wholesome. We traveled on a gravel road named The Bird Trail for some time until we reached a paved road. I remember being surrounded by smooth stoned mountains but as we slightly rode higher in altitude, the sky suddenly opened up and both sides of the narrow road dropped down significantly shocking us with an intense change of scenery. It was simply beautiful. As we continued, we expressed to each other how wonderful it would be to have a nice cup of coffee but knew that we wouldn’t be approaching a busy area for a while. Or not. Out of nowhere, in the middle of nowhere was a Kiva Koffee house overlooking the entire area. Sweet! We stopped to enjoy the scenery and our yummy cup of ridiculously-priced coffee.

After a nice short rest we continued riding and just as I thought to myself that Utah couldn’t possibly be any prettier, we arrived at Bryce Canyon. I was speechless as my jaw hit the ground. The scenery was incredible, oddly, the only thing my mind could think of that related to what I was looking at was Orange Creamsicles. We took a long hike through the slot canyons and then rode through the park to visit other areas but it became extremely cold and there was snow, clearly a sign that we should make our way south towards Arizona.


I had contacted a family in Colorado City at the Utah/Arizona state line and they welcomed us into their home. As we approached the city, Rocky suggested that we take a shortcut through some back roads and mentioned that we were running low on gas. We eventually found ourselves on a dirt path encompassed by beautiful pink sand dunes. It was slippery and unstable to ride on and I began to fear that we would crash and/or run out of gas. Of course, Rocky was much more confident than I.

Finally arriving, Colorado City seemed unfinished. There were only a few paved roads and houses were partially built. We found Lori’s house and once we met she explained that her husband and daughter were currently away but we were introduced to most of her eight sweet children named Kimmy, Jasper, Jamie, Alma, Rosa, Vera, Charles and Carol. Immediately upon getting there we were offered a bite to eat and a hot shower. While I was washing up, Rocky hung out with Carol while Lori left to drive one of her other daughters to a party. I walked in to Rocky and Carol’s conversation as Carol was describing life in Colorado City. We listened ignorantly, about the history of polygamy and were surprised to discover that Warren Jeff’s compound was located in their neighbourhood.

For those who don’t know of Warren Jeff’s, it is rumoured that he had 70 wives and he 31 daughters. He belonged to the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and held the official title in the FLDS Church as the “President and Prophet, Seer and Revelator”. Not only does he believe that a*devoted church member is to have at least three wives in order to get into heaven, and the more wives a man has, the closer he is to heaven but he was*the sole individual in the church who possessed the authority to perform its marriages and was responsible for assigning wives to husbands. Jeff’s also held the authority to discipline wayward male believers by reassigning their wives, children and homes to another man. Personally, if I had many children to care for, I would definitely consider one or maybe even a few wives, but to have to ask for permission from anyone other than my husband, is redonkulous.

The next morning, we were spoiled with a delicious breakfast before going to Zion national park. For many reasons, I wish I had spent more time with Lori and her family. It would have been interesting to know how she manages being such a positive, spiritual mother, living in the midst of a complicated community. With such a large family, it was nice to spend time in a home that was filled with a lot of heart and bright personalities.

Zion National Park was a lot of fun. We were able to ride through parts of it on the motorcycle, that took us through tunnels inside of a mountain but there was also a shuttle bus that took us to some walking trails where we were able to hike through one of nature’s finest sceneries. After a long day of site seeing, we got back on the road and witnessed a perfect sunset as we approached Page, Arizona. Hungry, we pulled up to a McDonald’s because it bribes us with free Internet. A guy named Rex noticed us with the bike and had begun a conversation with Rocky. He mentioned that he was picking up his girlfriend Kayla, she worked there at McDonald’s. Rex later described himself to us as “hillbilly”, I disagree, Rex looked BADASS. He resembled a typical biker with his shaved head, goatee, crocked nose and many tattoos. But then again what does a biker look like? Me? After exchanging many words, he invited us to pitch our tent at the trailer park where they lived, we gratefully accepted. A while later, we met them there and, after preparing for our night stay, we were invited into their trailer for some laughs.

Somewhere along our travels, we were thoughtfully handed a nice bag of herbs, so I asked if it was OK to share. Seconds later, we smoke filled the trailer with a lovely scent. Many people would probably shy away from the looks of Rex and his extremely obedient Pit Bull. And, they probably would have run when he grabbed for his gun that was resting beside me. But I was only afraid for a second because I was high. I quickly came to my senses and knew that he just wanted to put it in a safe place. Rex, his dog and his sweet girlfriend, Kayla, were really kind, friendly and interesting. We had a great night getting to know and laughing with them. After a short sleep, we packed up and said our goodbyes.


Our plan was to spend the day at Antelope Canyon. We had seen pictures of it on the Internet and were excited to visit. Antelope canyon is on native land belonging to The Navajo Nation. It was formed by erosion primarily due to flash flooding and secondarily due to rainwater, especially during monsoon season. Although, rain does not even have to fall on or near the Antelope Canyon slots for flash floods to whip through, as rain falling dozens of miles away ‘upstream’ of the canyons can funnel into them with little prior notice. Over time the passageways are eroded away, making the corridors deeper and smoothing hard edges in such a way as to form characteristic “flowing” shapes in the rock. It was definitely worth visiting but I was a little annoyed when we first arrived. We rode down a driveway that led us to a hut where we were asked for $6 admission each before entering. We were given tickets and once parked, we walked towards the crowd of people on the other side of the field. We were than told that we were not allowed to go without a tour guide and that would cost us an additional $25 each (if we changed our mind, the $6 admission we each paid would NOT be reimbursed). It was worth seeing, yes, but very deceiving to not be forewarned that we would be paying over $60 between the both of us. I thought it was ridiculously priced, especially after paying approximately $100 for us both to enter into all of the national parks in the US for the entire year.


After a couple of hours and many pictures, we left Antelope Canyon and tried to make it to our next destination before the sun set. We were planning to visit a high school friend who had moved to Flagstaff, Arizona a few years back. It had been a beautiful warm day but by the time we reached Flagstaff, the sun quickly hid behind the large, gorgeous mountains and left our bones chilled with the night’s air and high altitude. Ok, chilled isn’t the proper word, I was frozen and my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. I hate not being prepared for climate change, had it been a bit cooler during the day in Page, Arizona, I would have worn the liners in my Rev-it gear because they work great to keep me warm. However, I was wearing my rev-it gloves and if I haven’t mentioned before, they suck! Rev-it *H20 claim to be waterproof no matter what the weather, they lie. They are constantly cold and wet (soaking wet) from either sweat or weather and they take days to dry. I love Rev-it gear but paying almost $200 for them is a rip off. Just saying.


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October 9 – October 17, 2011
 

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The sun had retreated for the night leaving none of its warmth behind. When we arrived at Rob and Christina’s doorstep, we were immediately welcomed to sit by the fireplace to thaw our bodies from the chill we had just endured during our ride there. Brrr. I was frozen cold and extremely happy that we wouldn’t have to set up the tent in Flagstaff, Arizona that night. Although camping is a lot of fun, I was looking forward to sleeping on a bed and relaxing at Rob and Christina’s for the week. It seemed that I had finally gotten used to being on the road, it took a long time to find comfort with all of the change I had gone through but I also felt as though I was ready to take a moment away from traveling to enjoy a nice vacation.


Christina and Rob lived in a large home that was shared with roommates mike and Martin, and a miniature Doberman named Pony-Boy. It was a home filled with active athletes who were either competing for the Olympics, running races, finishing marathons or simply leading an active healthy life style. Rocky and Rob were close friends from high school and that is how I first knew Robbie, more than 15 years ago. I remember him from track and field but I don’t remember ever having a conversation with him. That didn’t matter though, because the moment I walked through his door I was treated life a life long friend.

I could compare staying with Rob and Christina to the best resort in the world but it was better. It all began with simple things such as labels left throughout the house to guide us to anything we may need. There was a constant supply of delicious wheat beer that became my favorite kind, and a fridge filled with yumminess. They were vegetarian and all of their produce was organic or picked from their garden. Christina was such an incredible cook and was constantly preparing the most amazing meals and desserts. Mmm Christina’s homemade peanut butter ice cream will forever remain on my mind. I probably put on a few pounds during our visit. I always imagined that meat was a necessary part of a meal but heck no, I was wrong. She had so many ideas of how to prepare vegetables that I now believe that I am a carnivore only for selfish reasons.


Our first few days there were spent repairing the bike. She was in need of an oil change and valve clearance check. Rocky does most of the work but I’m a fine little helper. It was also a good time to wash our riding gear. It reeked and was covered in dead bugs. I regret buying the grey Rev’It! gear instead of the black because it looks filthy quickly.

Flagstaff is a great place and I can certainly understand why Rob had moved there. It was surrounded by mountains and an active community. Rocky and I went riding through some trails that lead us to ski lifts where we took a long peak at our surroundings from the top of a mountain. Being on this adventure and constantly on the go is great but taking a moment to stop and stare at the beauty of this planet is the most rewarding gift that I could offer my soul.

Mid week into our visit, Rocky and I were invited on a hike that would lead us to a cliff edge. The plan was to go rock climbing. I’m not going to lie, I was intimidated. I am so scared of heights that climbing stairs is a challenge for me. We put on some climbing shoes, harnessed ourselves and I took a long minute to gather my thoughts to conquer my fear. Rob went first so that he could hook up the ropes to support us, he made it look effortless. Christina went next and easily climbed the 90 feet to the top. I began to feel more comfortable. When it was my turn to go, I caked my hands with talc to absorb all the sweat and I began climbing. I concentrated on either looking up, forward or at my next move but I knew not to look down. I caught myself repeating the thought in my mind ‘don’t look down, you’re almost there, whatever you do, don’t look down!’. Almost half way to the top my little chicken arms were burning and I began to struggle with my next move. Flexibility was key because there wasn’t anything close to latch on to. I could hear everyone trying to help me from the bottom but I was unable to make sense of the direction. I looked down to read Christina’s lips as she tried to direct and encourage me… Oh shit! I looked down! Suddenly my knees began to convulse and my heart began to race. If nobody stood beneath me I would’ve peed my pants. I was petrified. It took what seemed like a lifetime to regain a normal breathing pattern and calm my heart back into my chest. It took a lot to convince myself that I was going to be fine and I finally mustered up the confidence to stretch my leg up and wide to pull myself high enough to reach my arm. I did it! Holy sheep shit, I actually did it and the relief brought me to the top with a better sense of confidence. I was proud to have climbed a 90-foot cliff and happy to have conquered my fear, even though I am still afraid of heights!


A couple of days later, Rob planned a fishing trip with us and his friend, Stephan. We packed a lunch and headed a couple of hours away towards the Colorado River. I had never been fly-fishing and assumed that it meant catching fish with actual flies. I was wrong. In fly-fishing, fish are caught by using artificial flies that are cast with a fly rod and a fly line. The fly line is heavy enough to send the fly to the target. The main difference between fly fishing and spin or bait fishing is that in fly fishing the weight of the line carries the hook through the air, whereas in spin and bait fishing the weight of the lure or sinker at the end of the monofilament or braided line gives casting distance (did that make any sense? If not, blame Wikipedia). I put on a waterproof pair of pants that covered my toes and came up to my chest that were held up by suspenders and put on boats that were wore over it. I looked extra sexy. I walked in slow motion through thick mud that pulled me into the earth and carefully walked out into the middle of the river. It was fun as I walked over slippery rocks with the river rushing past my legs as I tried to keep my balance while holding on to my fishing rod. Once I reached the center of the river, I cast my rod far through the air. Apparently, I was good at it but I wasn’t sure if Rob was just telling me that for encouragement. Between catching a few fish and relaxing on the shore as the sun began to rise beautifully over the cliff that hugged the river, it was an incredible day!


Our stay in Flagstaff was coming to an end and with the motorcycle back together, Rocky and I decided to take a road trip to visit the Grand Canyon before we left. It was a warm day and it felt nice to be riding the bike bare without all of our luggage. The Grand Canyon was awesome! I saw it in pictures many times before but they could never describe the view as I had felt it, being there. We spent the day exploring but mainly just simply starring into the distance. When we finally headed back towards Flagstaff, the temperature dropped and night fell quickly. I hate riding at night. Especially on dark roads that hide large animals as they cross. It surprises me that we have never hit one and I was glad to have arrived back safely.

It was time to move on and although I secretly wanted to be adopted into Rob and Christina’s home, we had much more to see and experience. It was nice to be spoiled and great to have had so much fun but the road was waiting for us. I loved Flagstaff! Stay golden, Pony-Boy!

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We finally just got the new frame for the motorcycle last month, and I'm trying to find the time between work and the effort to start the rebuild.

Your pictures are stunning! May I ask which camera(s) you are using? Do you edit the photos a lot through a photo editing program? And where did you learn about photography? Really fantastic! Keep 'em coming :)

Thanks! I am using the Canon 5D Mark II. Some photos are edited, especially the HDR photos, but I try to edit photos as little as possible now since it's just too time consuming. I usually use Aperture to color-correct and Adobe Photoshop for spot removal and some other retouching, resizing and watermarking, etc..

I learned about photography just by looking at a lot of photos (photo.net has some amazing photographers), and by taking a lot of photos. The best way to learn it to use a digital camera with only manual settings. I still have a bunch to learn, but I did see an improvement throughout the trip since I was getting my camera out everyday.

Your HDR pics are excellent.
Any idea when you will be ready to continue your journey?
Interesting reading.

It took 4 months to finally receive the motorcycle back in Canada (we were told it would take 30 days), and the new frame took almost 3 months to arrive. The frame had to be shipped from KTM Austria to California, and then to upstate New York, where we picked it up, and the vendor bungled up the ordering of it which added quite a bit to the time it took.

This left us with little time to repair the bike and to head out before the end of the summer. We decided to stay the winter, repair the bike and head back out next spring or summer.

October 17 – October 25, 2011
 

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It was a good day to get back on the road. The weather was beautiful, we had reorganized our belongings, gathered our thoughts and our riding gear was feeling fresh. It was a relaxed ride through Arizona, the sun was warm as the earth became flat and the sound inside my helmet was pure bliss. Oh, I miss that sound. If peace and calm made a noise, I am certain it is this.

Our general direction for the day was towards New Mexico. There were a few interesting stops on the way and the first would be Meteor Crater. The story is that 50,000 years ago a nickel/iron meteorite crashed into the Earth and the damage created is supposedly the most well known, best preserved meteorite crater on Earth. I know this only because it was written in the description at the entrance beside the admission fees. We decided not to go see it once we discovered that it would cost us over $30 to view this large space of nothingness. I would have paid something to see it but $16 each is a bit much when you’re on a tight budget. Maybe I’ll regret that someday but I certainly don’t yet.

Our next stop was Petrified Forest National Park. Back when we were riding through Yellowstone National Park, we rode past a gated area that held a sign reading ‘Petrified Tree’. I didn’t understand. There was a tree stump in the center of the fence but it was too far away to notice anything special about it. It seemed odd that it was called a petrified tree, and I laughed at my own thoughts when I imagined that perhaps it had encountered the Texas Chainsaw massacrer. Arriving at Petrified National Park, it began to make sense as I read the definitions posted throughout. The word petrified comes from the Greek root petro, meaning rock or stone, not scared. Petrified literally means wood turned into stone. This park had many fallen trees from the late Triassic period (approximately 230 million years ago), when I looked at them up close I was shocked to see that the wood was solid rock, sparkling with colorful stones and crystals. If I weren’t concerned with preserving this awesomeness, I would’ve stolen a few chunks to make myself some lovely jewelry.

As one example, I understand the process to be as follows… We start out with a tree, on a much warmer tropical earth million of years ago. As time goes by the tree gets old, or the weather changes, and it dies and falls into mud. As the tree decays the cells become hollow and the water seeps into the tree and into the cells. The water is filled with minerals like calcite and silicone and as the water evaporates it leaves the minerals behind filling up the cells and creating a petrified tree. Since Opals are silicon and water, that is the exact same ingredients that make petrified wood. So most silicon based petrified wood is really Opals, of various forms and qualities.

Unfortunately, we have no pictures to show because ——-*SPOILER ALERT* my point and shoot camera was stolen before I got the chance to copy my pictures to a hard drive. ——- Rocky didn’t take any pictures, he was feeling too lazy to push a damn button. Ok, I can only honestly partially blame him. We kept the camera, lenses, flash, battery chargers, cords, and all that kind of stuff in the tank bag. Although the bag was easy to get to, it was perfectly packed in order for everything to fit in it, so, removing anything from it meant constantly reorganizing. Packing and unpacking was annoying at times, this was one of those times.


After leaving the Park, we rode until we got hungry and stopped at Subway in Springerville, Arizona. Uhgg, I was getting real sick of eating Subway. We decided to spend the night nearby and asked the girl behind the counter if she had any suggestions of where to camp. She recommended a park and gave us directions but we ended up behind a police station, and when we rode a bit further we ended up at a grave yard. I wasn’t about to sleep at either place so I was excited once we finally found the park. It was a great place to camp, there was a large overhang with a few picnic tables and BBQ pits. We set up the tent in the corner and got ready for a comfortable night sleep.

We awoke the next morning and prepared to enter New Mexico. Our first stop was to check out a Very Large Array. (VLA) is a radio astronomy observatory consisting of 27 independent antennas that serve multiple purposes, but it is not, despite rumours, used to assist in the search for E.T. or any of his alien friends. After gawking at all of this amazing machinery for a while, we continued our journey until we finally reached Roswell, and found most of E.T.’s friends.

Roswell, New Mexico has been a popular conversation since 1947 when an extraterrestrial spacecraft and its alien occupants crashed in the area. The U.S. Armed Forces say that what was recovered was debris from an experimental high-altitude weather and surveillance balloon. But, many have refused to believe that, and Roswell continues to attract attention and tourists interested in UFOs, science fiction, and aliens. It was kinda weird to see green Martians displayed throughout the streets, in the shops and pretty much everywhere. It was dark when we had arrived and after using McDonald’s for their wifi, we found a park to sleep in, I’m surprised that I didn’t have creepy dreams that night.

It would be our last day in New Mexico but we he had one more stop to make before entering the state of Texas. Carlsbad Cavern is one of the most incredible places I have visited. We took an elevator 750 feet below ground that led us to a few different chambers made of natural limestone. This cave was insanely huge (4,000 feet (1,220 m) long, 625 feet (191 m) wide, and 255 feet (78 m) high at the highest point) and it took a few hours for us to walk around. I have no words to describe the intense beauty of theses caves, we got a few awesome pictures but they don’t show how amazing it was in three demential form. We spent the rest of our day in the cavern but still had a lot of road to cover before reaching Texas. The weather had been increasingly warmer as we traveled south and I was excited for all the warm days ahead.

To be honest, I wasn’t too thrilled about going to Texas and I’m going to blame that on politics. If I were asked to describe Texas with 5 words, they would be Bush, Cheney, Halliburton, guns and oil. I’m not a fan of any of that and I could tell that Rocky wasn’t either as he flipper the bird to a Halliburton vehicle we rode past.


The land was flat in comparison to all of the small volcanos we rode past in New Mexico. There were oil rigs, pickup trucks and cowboy hats everywhere. As the day came to an end we finally stopped for a bite to eat and to search for a place to sleep. We came across a small town and decided to sleep at a truck stop with an Ihop near by. Mmm I was craving bacon, eggs and pancakes. Even since the maple syrup was not real maple syrup, it was only a little disappointing. Anything but subway was delicious at this point.

We packed up the next morning and headed to San Antonio, Texas. Back when we were in Boise, Idaho, staying with Kent, we met his employee Jeff. Jeff had mentioned that he was moving to San Antonio right around the same time we would be in the area, and he kindly invited us to stay with him. Before arriving at his house, we were hungry and stopped at a BBQ restaurant named Rudy’s. It was a picnic table kind of place with a large sign that read ‘Rudy’s, the worst bar-b-q in Texas’. The sign lies, the food was ridiculous deliciousness I will never forget! Shortly after eating we rode to Jeff’s house, he lives with his son Arden and his dog Sadie, and we were warm welcomed when we arrived. It was easy to be comfortable in their home, we were immediately treated as if we lived there as well. Literally, he gave us our own set of keys. Jeff has got to be one of the most thoughtful men I have ever met. He went well out of his way to be sure that we were comfortable. The day after we arrived he told me that I probably missed a nice bubble bath and that there was a deep tub he scrubbed clean and purchased a few different products for me in the case that I have missed being a girl while on this trip. It meant a lot to me that he was so kind and that i was able to soak in a nice hot bath.

During the first few days of our stay, we were able to change a tire and find a store that sold PacSafe. PacSafe is an adjustable high-tensile stainless steel locking device, designed to cover and protect a variety of bags and packs from thieves. Since most of our belongings are accessible to anybody, it is a good idea to purchase another PacSafe so that we can lock up our riding gear and helmets as we leave our bike to wander around. Very convenient and I highly recommended it to most travelers.

With all of our errands taken care of, Rocky and I were able to wander around town. San Antonio is a very large city. We explored the city center and took a stroll through Riverwalk, where the San Antonio river winds and loops under bridges as two parallel sidewalks are lined with restaurants, shops and hotels, and there are river boats that carry passengers from one end to the other. As the day turned to night we found ourselves wandering throughout the city and stopping to see the Alamo. The Alamo, originally known as Mission San Antonio de Valero, is a former Roman Catholic mission and fortress compound and was the site of the Battle of the Alamo in 1836. It is now a museum in Downtown San Antonio. We enjoyed discovering San Antonio, it is a really nice city to visit.

Over the weekend, Jeff and Arden planned a day trip to take us to Corpus Christi, a coastal city in southern Texas. Jeff, Arden, Rocky and I packed a picnic and got into the SUV for a nice road trip to the beach. Once we finally arrived, the road lead us to a booth before entering the beach area. We were greeted by a park ranger and we became a bit confused by his demeanor and ascent, “Enter if that’s what you want to do. Go ahead, at your own risk of course.” What kind of a greeting is that? We all joked about him as we drove away. Suddenly, our throats got itchy, our eyes burned, we were feeling symptoms of something. The beach was vacant. We entered the tourist building and the park ranger was very helpful and explained to us that there was a Red Tide. Red Tides are caused by tiny, single-celled marine organisms that are normally present in the Gulf of Mexico as resting cysts or ‘seeds’ on the ocean bottom. When certain conditions are right (salinity, temperature and upwelling) a dense concentration also called a ‘bloom’ exposes these organisms to the surface and when hit by light the ocean appears as a brownish red colour. Certain species are toxic and kill fish, contaminate shellfish and cause an irritating aerosol in the air. It was horrible, I felt bad for the park rangers that had to be exposed to this all day/week/month? We ran back to the SUV and headed away from the beach for plan B. Hungry, we decided it would be nice to find a good place to have a picnic and we conveniently found a man selling some tamales to eat with our lunch. Rocky and I had never tried tamales, they turned out to be tasty. After having lunch and walking around the coast, we stopped to check out a museum before heading back to San Antonio. It would be our last night at Jeff’s house and we decided to relax for the night and watch movies on the big screen.

Visiting with Jeff, Arden and their pet Sadie, became another amazing moment and memory of our journey. Texas will now mean a little more to me than just corrupt policies and politics. We packed our belongings the following day and prepared to approach the Mexican border but not without stopping at Rudy’s BBQ one last time.

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Sounds like a nightmare time getting the bike back but your both ok and thats the main thing.
Keep those pics coming as it gives me ideas, 6 years until we can start out RTW tour. Till then the furthest we can do is Europe, and just outside, due to work etc.
Looking forward to following your travels.

Craig

6 years is a while to wait, but it will be worth the wait. I've started geotagging all the photos on my website so that people can see where they were taken. This will help give you a better idea for things you might want to see and places that you might want to go. The link to my website is in the first post in this ride report.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg As we traveled through Canada and the USA we remained in our comfort zone but now that we were about to enter Mexico I was feeling a little bit anxious. Mexico had been having a lot of bad publicity and it wasn’t the safest time to be traveling through it. We spoke to many people, asked a lot of advice and we were warned that the violence was out of control. Mexico was in the midst of a drug war and to make things more complicated the police and politicians were involved in the corruption. I was nervous and I seriously considered skipping past Mexico. Not only had gun shootings become common but many decapitated bodies had been found. I was afraid, and of course, Rocky wasn’t. He believes that the brave may not live for long but the cautious do not live at all. And I on the other hand believed that his new mustache gave him a false sense of security (I still think he deliberately grew it to fit in).


We decided on crossing into Mexico through Nuevo Laredo, Texas. This town reminded me of an 80′s gang movie with all the teardrop tattoos, thick gold crosses and low riding Cutlass Supremes with hydraulic systems and fat, shiny, spinning rims. From what we were told, border towns were the most dangerous. We spoke with various people we had met throughout our travels, many had told us we were going to get killed and the others had given us advise and rules on crossing into Mexico.

We were to:

• keep a distance from the border at night
• cross the border in the early morning
• get all the proper necessary paperwork from the border officials (to avoid fines when exiting Mexico)
• not, for any reason, pull over on the highway (high jacking is common)
• keep driving until we are as far south from t-he border as possible
• do not -stop in Monterey city
• avoid cops and drug dealers

We were going to spend the night in Nuevo Laredo and cross the border early the next morning, so we found a place to camp down a dead end street. The road ended where a gated field began and bushes kept us hidden from the open space. It was a large farm area with an abandoned trailer and at least a half a dozen of the most beautiful pure white cows I had ever known to exist.

It was a warm night and the outer layer of the tent was unzipped, exposing the mesh and ourselves to a nice breeze. As we laid in the tent that night watching stuff on the laptop, I had this creepy feeling that we were being watched. Rocky blamed my paranoia on the weed we just smoked and I tried to convince myself that he was right. Almost an hour had passed, I couldn’t shake the feeling and I kept turning my focus outside of the tent. Suddenly, I saw something or someone move in the darkness. My heart dropped and I stopped breathing as my eyes caught more movement. “Rocky, now did you see that? Look over there beside the fence, watch. I just heard a noise in that direction and I saw something move.”

With our faces pressed to the mesh of our tent we both noticed an arm wave through the air in the distance.
“Holy shit Paula, there is someone out there. I’m going to go talk to him, it looks like he’s waving me over. Are you coming with me?”
“Hell no, are you ****ing crazy Rocky? I’ll stay here, I’m freaking out. “

I watched as Rocky approached the figure and then walk back over to me shortly after.

“That was weird. I’m pretty sure that man lives in the trailer. He smelled like he’s homeless and he was wearing his belt over his shoulder. I told him that we were going to spend the night here and he told me that he wasn’t from this realm. Everything else he said was in and out of coherence. ” -Oddly enough, I didn’t feel threatened or frightened anymore. The man just seemed to be curious of the the two homeless people camped outside his realm.

The following morning we decided to wait one more day before crossing the border. We wanted to make sure that we were well prepared by exchanging some money, organizing all of our ID and documents, getting a good night sleep for an early long morning and leaving behind the pipe we were given in Colorado to avoid being charged with paraphernalia. So, if you ever find yourself in Nuevo Laredo, Texas without a pipe, look HERE, hidden along the fence.

With everything ready, we decided to spend the night back at our comfy dead end boulevard. We decided to get up at 6:30am so that our things would be packed and we’d be having breakfast by 7:30 and crossing the border at about 8am. It sounded like a solid plan until Rocky woke me up at 4:30am trying to get me going early. It was the middle of the night and there was NO way I was willing to go at that time. For the next hour Rocky acted like a snooze alarm I was ready to smash his button. It was 5:30am and I was not happy to be awake. We packed our belongings and rode in the dark to Subway for breakfast. It was closed of course, because you would have to be crazy to be up that early, so we rode to another subway a few blocks closer to the border. By the time we got there we just had to wait almost half of an hour before it opened. Exhausted and grumpy about getting up extra early for nothing, we finally got to the border.

There was a huge line of people trying to cross from Mexico into the US, I was happy we were the only ones crossing into Mexico. We entered awkwardly as guards just simply stared at us from a distance. ‘Are we going the right way? Do you want to know who we are, where we are going, why we are going, whether we have passports?’ We crossed without being questioned and I wondered if they were intimidated by our helmet camera.

The moment we were in Mexico everything was different. The air was warm and thick, people were on the streets shouting for our attention to sell us insurance and probably other things. We ignored the commotion and drove two blocks and through a parking lot before finding an immigration office I thought it was inconveniently hidden. It was still early morning when we got to the building but after waiting in a few long lineups to have all the necessary documents to enter ourselves and the motorcycle through the country we were finally getting back on the road well past noon.

I had contacted a guy through couchsurfing.org named Orlando and he welcomed us to stay with him and his family in Ciudad Victoria, a city far enough south from the border. We wanted to ride all the way there without stopping but there was no possible way of that happening. We needed gas and became hungry. As we rode though the (allegedly) dangerous and beautiful city named Monterey we decided to stop (even though we we warned against doing so) and we ate at Pollio Loco (Crazy Chicken). We ate quickly and got back on the road as soon as possible. A full stomach was not helping with our exhaustion as we rode down the highway, and Rocky decided he had to pull over. We had already broken a rule by stopping in Monterey and now Rocky pulled over so that he could take a quick nap on the side of the highway. I wondered if he was crazy and I reminded him of the rules we were to follow but he told me we had two options, either crash the bike as he fell asleep riding or take the chance of being hijacked. Uhgg, my nerves were tweaking and I kept attention as he took a power nap. A half hour later we were back on the road, Rocky was refreshed but my eyes were burning with exhaustion.


The sun was setting as we finally arrived at Orlando’s home, it was an incredibly beautiful home that his family had build over many years. He lived with his sweet mother Romy, his kind father Rigo, his younger sister Tania and his 3 dogs named Mick Jagger, Lolo, Chachara. Orlando was excited to hear about our journey and asked us to join him on a tour of the city. We unpacked some things and I immediately took a shower because I was hoping it would wake me up a bit, and living in a tent doesn’t exactly smell pretty. We walked around for a couple of hours as Orlando gave us the history on Ciudad Victoria, the capital city, of the Mexican state of Tamaulipas. We stopped at a patio to enjoy real fruit and herb slushies while exchanging thoughts on life. It was almost 10pm by the time we got back to his house and exhaustion hit me like a ton a bricks. My energy was completely drained, my eyes were crossing and I became very light headed and dizzy. I laid in bed to fight the hot flashes as my body was struggling to fight whatever was overcoming me. I became violently ill vomiting everything in my stomach past the point of anything being left in there but bile and I finally passed out cold. Morning came and we had plans with Orlando to visit his work and meet the kids he taught at school. He was a teacher and the school was having a BBQ party that day, unfortunately, I couldn’t go. I began puking again the moment I woke up and I simply had no energy. Luckily, Orlando’s mom Romy worked at a hospital and she offered to bring me into work with her, I gratefully accepted. We arrived at the hospital and I was immediately taken into a room to lay down. Rocky, Orlando and Romy were all with me for comfort. Soon after, at least 8 student nurses were surrounding my bed as a few other doctors gave orders and lessons on how to treat me.


As a child, I grew up in a Portuguese household watching Latin soap operas with my mother. They were called telenovelas and they featured the most beautiful Latin people. At that moment as I laid on that hospital bed I felt like I was playing a roll in a telenovela. The students and nurses were dressed all in white, wearing short mini skirts, tight buttoned blouses, baby doll shoes and adorable nurse hats. Their make up was perfectly painted and their hair looking professionally done. I had nurses touching my pulse, pressing my stomach giving me intervenes and needles in my butt cheeks all while a bunch of students are starring at me and Rocky is snapping pictures. It was quite hilarious and I couldn’t stop giggling at the drama unfolding before me.

I was told that I was dehydrated, exhausted and that I would need to rest until the intervenes rehydrated me, (I still don’t know what the needle in my butt cheek was for). Rocky and Orlando left for the day and Romy worked her shift while I slept, but she checked up on me every half hour until 4pm to make sure I was ok. After sleeping on and off for 6 hours, 2 Gatorades and 4 bags of IV, I was ready to leave with Romy at the end of her shift. I felt much better and I was extremely happy for the treatment I was given by all the hospital staff and my new foreign mama. Romy is such an incredible lady and I will always be grateful for her kindness.

We arrived back at the house and she cooked something for me to eat. Orlando and Rocky would be gone all day so I was invited to join mom, dad and sis to a birthday party. Feeling much better, I joined. We arrived at rented hall decorated in balloons and I was introduced to many kind strangers who kept trying to feed me. A live band played accordions and sang while everyone joined in to dance. It was truly a great moment to be a part of.

After the party, we drove to the mall for some ice cream and we waited for Rocky and Orlando to join us. Rocky and I shared our eventful stories, he was very enthusiastic of how great his day went.

Rocky had spent the day with Orlando, visiting the school at which Orlando taught. He boasted about the tacos he had for lunch that were made by the school lunch lady. According to him, they were the best tacos he had ever eaten. After travelling the length of Mexico, from the U.S. to Belize, Rocky still maintains, to this day, that he has never eaten a better taco. I sort of think he’s just trying to make me jealous. After visiting Orlando’s school, Rocky, Orlando and many of Orlando’s co-workers drove to a nearby town for a work BBQ party. There was live music, tons of food and beer. After the party, Orlando had decided to stop by a resort in the mountains on the way back to the city to take Rocky zip-lining. When they arrived back, Rocky told me that he didn’t try the zip-lining because he said he would have felt bad having so much fun without me, and that he wanted to wait until I was better so that we could both go together.


The next morning, Rocky and I joined Orlando and his father for breakfast in the city. We had what were called Migaldas; fried tortilla with layers of beans, meat, lettuce, salsa, cheese, sour cream. It was cut into four slices and eaten like a pizza; by far my favourite Mexican meal. With full stomachs, we took a walk until we found ourselves in a nearby museum, it was nice to see and learn a little history. After Orlando’s dad went home, we continued to walk around with Orlando and tour the streets and markets. I had visited Mexico previous to this adventure but I felt like this experience was completely different. The touristy places I had visited in the past did not contain nearly half the culture I had noticed in Ciudad Victoria.


It was a Friday and Orlando invited some co-workers and friends over for a BBQ party that night. We all hung out in his backyard and garage, ate tons of meat, drank many beers and danced all night.


The next day, we gathered our energies for an eventful family day. During the first few days at Orlando’s house I kept hearing strange noises, I asked Rocky if he had heard them as well but he hadn’t noticed. It sounded like wild animals, it was really strange. Moments later we were told that we would be visiting a Zoo just a block down the street. I thought I was going crazy when I heard foreign animals roar in the middle of the night but it all began to make sense. After walking around there all day, we all decided go for a walk through more of the city and its markets. Rigo surprised me with a bracelet souvenir/gift and I felt it was really sweet how we were treated with so much heart. We arrived back at their home just after dark after picking up a large order of tacos to go. It was nice to sit around the kitchen table, eating tacos, drinking a bottle of wine that mom and sis had purchased in France during their past vacation and looking through photos of their journey through Europe. We spent the rest of the night preparing to sadly leave the next day, and excited to ride to new places recommended by Orlando and his family.

We woke up early on Sunday and were invited to share a traditional Sunday soup before leaving. We obviously agreed to join for breakfast and join in on the city’s tradition of eating tripe soup. Every Sunday morning this soup is prepared and it is rumoured to be a hangover cure. I’m not sure if tripe is the stomach or the intestines of a cow but it smelled like either one. I tried but struggled to eat it, Rocky didn’t, he ate his entire bowl full. Luckily for me, there was more food to choose from and I wasn’t forced to feel rude for not eating. I adore Orlando’s family and I am so grateful to have shared such an amazing experience in a country I was told to fear. His family is a perfect example of Mexican hospitality and it was very difficult to say goodbye.

Our next plan was to head towards the ocean. I had contacted a guy on couchsurfing.org named Tito and we were welcomed to stay at his home in Tampico, still in the State of Tamaulipas. It took us a few hours before arriving and we had enough time to stop a MacDonald’s for WiFi and coffee. The Mexican McDonalds was strange, the menu was different and a huge jar of jalapeños were placed by all the condiments. My coffee was disgusting. Either it was really strong or there was something horribly wrong with the cream. It took 7 creams to slightly lighten my coffee and it tasted like thick, bitter, powdered milk liquid.


We arrived at Tito’s house before dark and had the opportunity to meet him, his father, Hector and his brother, Eduardo. We got ready and were invited to go meet a few of his friends at a local bar for a few drinks. Tito was a handsome guy with many lovely looking friends. It was nice to party with a young crowd and we had a great time getting to know everyone. Later that night, we stopped at a small sandwich shop for a drunken snack. ‘Tortas Mary’ offered the best sandwiches I have ever had. I thought that maybe it was the Coronas speaking but after trying them again a couple of days later, I was convinced of their deliciousness. mmm… Just please try and imagine… fresh, soft buns packed with very thin sliced ham and cheese, refried black beans, pork chicharron, ground beef, fresh fried Chorizo, shredded beef, lettuce, tomato, onion, sliced avocado and sauced with salsa verde (spicy Habanero chili salsa) And yes, it was obviously a huge sandwich.

Morning came and Tito decided to skip school because he wanted to hang out with us. We took a road trip to the coast on the Gulf of Mexico and I was surprised by how vacant such a beautiful beach was. Tito said that the ocean was going through a lot of changes from pollutants, many fisherman stopped fishing and people have stopped swimming in the water, such a shame on us humans. There were less than a handful of people swimming, I was one of them. I took a 5 minute dip just to satisfy my salty craving but then felt it would be best if I got out.

After walking around for the day, Tito explained that he had to work that night and I was welcome to come with him. He owned a pole dancing studio named Polefit and I was about to take lessons on how to pole dance. It was so much fun! My instructor was a strong flamboyant man who was very well experienced at his job. I learned how to do a few moves but I also learned that I needed much more strength for the rest. After one hour Rocky picked me up and we went back to Tito’s house to get ready. While Tito worked the rest of his shift, his friend Roberto came to pick us up. We stopped to grab some more yummy food and ate at his house and drank a few beers. I began to discover how much I truly enjoyed Mexican food. After many stories and much laughter, we all left Roberto’s house to meet up with Tito at a bowling alley. I love bowling and never imagined doing so while on this trip, it was nice to experience a little familiarity of home. We all ordered beers and I was able to taste a type I had never tried. It was called Michelada, and it was a mixture of beer, lemon, salt, soy and Tabasco sauce. I found it to taste as gross as it sounds and I was glad I had ordered a Corona.


Visiting Tampico and meeting Tito, his family and friends was awesome. It’s a bit sad to have to constantly meet new friends that I have to say bye to so soon, but, it’s also nice to meet so many great friends I will always cherish.

We left Tampico the following morning and headed to Tamasopo, in the State of San Luis Potosi. The drive there was very beautiful with all the lush greenery around the mountains but it was a difficult ride. Driving through Mexico, you will quickly learn what word ‘Topes’ means on the road signs. Imagine driving down the street going 100km per hour when you see a foreign sign reading ‘Topes’ (sometimes other foreign words are used on signs to describe a Topes) and suddenly, you hit an enormous speed bump that has your tires catch air. Imagine now that these signs are placed randomly to warn you of a huge speed bump that is anywhere from a foot away, up to 50 meters away, also, any where from just one Topes to many Topes and sometimes there are no warning signs at all. Now imagine that you are sitting on the back of a fully loaded motorcycle and every time you ride over a Topes, all the heavy bags stacked on the back of the bike are slapping hard against your back. I don’t hate many things but i certainly HATE Topes. They make for a very annoying difficult ride.

In Ciudad Victoria, Orlando had recommended we stay at a camp ground with waterfalls in a town called Tamasopo. We finally reached it and our next mission was to ask where we could find the waterfalls. It turned it that we had a few places to choose from. We weren’t exactly sure which was best or exactly where it was located but when we stopped at one of them, we immediately decided to stay there. It was incredibly gorgeous and we pretty much had the place to ourselves. There were bathrooms, showers, a restaurant, a lounging area, thick cushy grass to set our tent on, and most importantly at the moment, there was a stunning waterfall surrounding us. Being there felt like bliss and for under $10 per night we decided to stay more than a few days. I loved how simple it was. Heck, I didn’t even care when I found out at night time that the grass beneath our tent was infested with the largest cockroaches I had ever seen (mind you, I insisted that Rocky was careful when entering and exiting the tent because I am super scared and grossed out by them). It didn’t have the nicest of bathrooms, showers or restaurant but that’s what I kind of loved most about it. It wasn’t ruined by greed or tourism. It was simply perfect and definitely a place I would love to visit again.

After three or four nights of relaxing, drinking beers and swimming we decided it was time to move on. We packed up our bags, left our paradise and headed towards the city of Querétaro, located in the Mexican State of Querétaro.

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Some good news. I finished rebuilding the motorcycle last month! Now we just need to wait out the winter and get ready for spring or summer.

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November 4 - November 11, 2011
 

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We were back on the road and on our way though the state of San Luis Potosi. The weather was what I would consider perfect and the scenery was beautiful. We stopped for breakfast at the side of the road where a small food cart run by a woman and her daughter was parked. They were nice to talk to but the food was mediocre and if we had ordered meat, we would most likely have become ill from it. We then rode through the state capital, also named San Luis Potosi. It was a cute city but it was a bit too busy, and it didn't help that the roads were narrow and difficult to ride because they were made of cobblestone. We tried to find a place to park but weren't able, so we decided not to stop and instead we just rode through.

We rode into the state of Querétaro and continued riding until we reached the capitals city, named Santiago de Querétaro. I had contacted a guy on couchsurfing.org and we were welcomed to go stay with him and his family. We arrived at his home shortly after dark and I loved the introduction. Alex sat at the dining room table as his mother finished applying home made paint to his face, making him look like a skeleton. Alex was about to participate in a flash mob taking place in the city's center, in celebration of Dia De La Muerte. Meaning, Day Of The Dead, Dia De La Muerte is a holiday celebrated throughout Mexico, dedicated to friends and family members who have passed. The holiday is celebrated by building beautiful private altars honouring the deceased. Graves are visited and gifts are left, such as sugar skulls, marigolds, and the favourite foods, beverages and possessions of the departed. People gather at cemeteries as if it were a family park and they eat, drink and pray, some even spend the night. In most regions of Mexico, November 1st is to honour children and infants, whereas deceased adults are honoured on November 2nd.


We quickly freshened up and joined Alex, his mom, Bachiz, and his dad, Luiz, to the city center. Querétaro is simply beautiful, it is possibly my favourite large city and that says a lot considering I'm not a fan of cities. The city center was surrounded by beautiful colonial buildings with romantic balconies above patio cafes and outdoor restaurants. It was a Friday night and the city center was filled with people roaming around. There were groups of people performing, some were selling or buying things, some where singing or playing instruments and some were even peacefully protesting. We tried some delicious, twisted, sugar and cinnamon donut like treats called Churros and a bread covered in caramel, called Roles. The ambiance and energy of this city was awesome.

The Next day, Alex took us on a tour. While walking through the city, I decided I needed a haircut and walked in to a local salon. My hair was getting damaged from whipping in the wind, wearing my helmet and not using conditioner. I wish I had known how to say in Spanish, 'please trim it straight across' because my hand gestures were instead interpreted as 'chop it up in random chunks using texturing shears'. I wasn't upset though, it just felt good to get it cut.

We continued our walk and visited the ridiculously enormous statue of Benito Juarez, a former Republican president who resisted the French occupation of Mexico and overthrew the Second Mexican Empire. We walked through a museum that taught us of Maximilian, a former Emperor who was barely recognized by other countries, we visited the hill where he was executed and the small chapel built in his honour several years after his death. We then visited the aqueducts, the most prominent feature of the city. It consists of seventy five arches, each twenty meters wide, 1,280 meters long and an average height of twenty three meters and was built to bring water to the residents of Querétaro from the city La Cañada.

It had been a really nice and eventful day spent with Alex, but it wasn't over yet. We went back to his house to meet up with the family and freshen up. We were introduced to Betty, Alex's sister, and we were invited to her fiance's house for a BBQ. It was mid afternoon, the sun was warm, everyone was kind and the food smelled and tasted delicious. Suddenly, Rocky got up to excused himself and disappeared for a while. I found him laying in the shade moments later, it turns out that he wasn't feeling well and he had been puking. We had eaten some precut prickly pears when we were at the market earlier that day, I'm guessing that it may have been the culprit. Luckily, Bachiz was a nurse and practiced with natural medicine. Once we got back to the house she mixed a few ingredients she had bottled asked Rocky to take drops of it under his tongue. I'm not sure what the recipe was, but Rocky felt better a few hours later.


We woke up early the following morning and Rocky and I rode to Guanajuato city in the state of Guanajuato. It is a very cool looking city where many of the city’s streets and alleys run partially or fully underground through tunnels to follow the extreme irregularity of the terrain. The city is filled with mostly colonial era buildings, restaurants, bars, cafes with terraces and small plazas. We walked around for a while, stopped for lunch in one of the markets, watched a bike race through the city and even went to church (not really, we just peeked inside for a picture).

Getting out of Guanajuato took a few attempts. The roads are like a maze, making it very easy to get lost. I think it's funny that they have signs posted “Sal si puedes” which means 'Exit if you can'. Once we finally made it out, it took a couple of hours before we reached a city named San Miguel Allende. It was very pretty but difficult to ride on the cobblestone roads, especially when they became extremely steep. San Miguel Allende is known for its Baroque/Neoclassical colonial structures and has attracted many artists from around the world. It is now populated by many foreigners. We were only able to ride through the city because it was starting to get late but I was exhausted anyway and ready to go back to Alex's.

The following morning, we were invited to eat a delicious breakfast prepared by Bachiz. She made chilaquiles! It is quartered tortillas fried with onions, garlic and salsa, topped with cheese, sour cream and served with a side of refried beans. It was truly delicious. After we ate, we packed up our things and said our goodbyes. Bachiz even prepared us a goodie bag filled with snacks for our travels in case we got hungry. It was a great experience to stay with this kind family in the lovely city of Querétaro.


Back on the road, we went on our way to Mexico City. It only took a few hours to get there but driving through the thick of the city seemed to take forever. Mexico City was extremely congested. I don't think it would've mattered how bright the sun was shining because the smog was thick enough to hide it. As we rode through the city searching for a WiFi connection, we stopped at four different McDonald's before finding one with Internet that worked. OK, it barely worked, but what else is new. After many attempts, I was finally able to respond to a couple I had contacted on couchsurfing.org and I wrote to tell them we would be arriving shortly. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a lie. When we got to the bike we noticed that the front tire was completely flat.

It would soon get dark and we had no choice but to take out the tools and figure out how to fix the problem. It was the first time that we had to do an emergency repair to the bike and I felt a bit anxious. It obviously took a moment to fix but I was surprised by how quickly Rocky was able to take care of it. Before long, we were on the bike and on our way to meet Damian and Lilian. It was just past 10 pm when we reached their home and we weren't even sure it was their home. They lived on the hillside and there was a maze of small roads with houses numbered randomly. After final figuring it out, I felt bad about how late we had arrived but I was very happy to be there. Lilian and Damian are a beautiful, young couple that live with their adorable Doberman Pincer, their two cats and a tiny little kitten. Since it was almost 11pm when we arrived, we were given a quick tour of their gorgeous home and then went to bed.

Have you ever woken up in a strangers home? Cuddling their pet, and feeling like you're cheating on your cat. No? Well it's kinda weird. Especially when the home owners aren't even there. Damian and Lilian had to go to work in the morning and they let us sleep in. Since Rocky and I have been on this trip there have been a few times that strangers had left us alone in their homes. It is the kindest compliment to be treated with such trust. I felt as if I woke up in an art studio, their house was extraordinary and i couldn't help but look around. Damian is an artist and his work was presented throughout the entire house. From the renovations to the oil paintings to the sculptures and the metal work, I was in love with the creativity that surrounded me.


Rocky and I spent some of the day removing the front wheel off the bike. The tire was still slowly leaking so we decided to replace it instead of patching it because it was time for a new one anyway. The following day we took a taxi through the city to stop at a ktm dealership. All the taxis seemed to be old Volkswagen Beatles. Since it was a two door vehicle, the front seat was removed for easier access into the back seat and* there was a lever like the kind used on school buses for the driver to conveniently open and close the passenger side door. It was an interesting cab experience but because Mexico City is very busy, it took much longer to travel through by car because it can't lane split.

The following day was spent replacing the tire and when Damian and Lilian returned we went downtown and enjoyed tacos at a great little restaurant. I even discovered a new favourite drink named Horchata, made from rice, sugar, cinnamon, and vanilla, it is delicious. After walking around the city and picking up some Churros for dessert we dropped Lilian off at the bus station. She worked restoring art and had to go away for a few days.


With the bike ready to ride, we decided to spend the next day exploring while Damian was at work. We rode out to the town of Tepozteco, a popular tourist destination near Mexico City. Famous for the remains of a temple built on top of the nearby Tepozteco mountain but also for the exotic ice cream flavours prepared by the townspeople. As soon as we got there we stopped at a small shop for coffee and ice cream, of course.

I was really excited to see the pyramid of Tepozteco, I had never seen one before. It was located at the top of a cliff and we were about to burn all the calories we had just eaten. After climbing up steep trails and some stairs for about an hour, we were greeted by somebody collecting an entrance fee. I found it humorous because I doubted it mattered what the cost was after the hike to get there. I wonder if anyone has ever reached the top and said 'I have to pay to see this? Screw that idea, I'm turning around.'

We paid 37 pesos (approx. $3) each and we were granted access to the top of the pyramid. It was all well worth it. The view of the Earth, from that height, was truly sacred. I sat on a ledge starring out into the horizon and I imagined the history of at least 5 centuries worth of humans to have possibly sat exactly where I was seated, admiring the beauty of nature. I also wondered if anyone had ever been sacrificed on the highest ledge of the pyramid but my thoughts got interrupted by by a cute raccoon looking creature (Coati) standing a couple of feet away begging for food.

Tired, from the days adventures, we headed back to Mexico City. The ride seemed to take much longer than earlier and it didn't help that it started pouring rain. We were drenched and unprepared for the downpour. Traffic was horrible and the rain hit so hard that my thighs felt like they were being stabbed by hundreds of knives. Rocky was lane splitting through most of the traffic but there were many times that he wasn't able. I felt that it wasn't safe to be on the road but the rain wasn't about to stop any time soon and we weren't that far from reaching Damians, house. At one point, Rocky thought that he should pass on the right side of the vehicles along the shoulder but that was a bad idea. I noticed a meter long rectangular sewer hole was missing one third of its grates just as Rocky rode around it. I told him that I was glad that he also noticed the hole and he responded by saying he didn't, he was just avoiding the bumpy edge. We made it back to Damian's house alive and all I could think of was a hot shower, comfy dry clothes, deli sandwiches and a couple of beers would be a perfect way to end the night.

The next morning, we went to visit more pyramids. Teotihuacan is an enormous archaeological site containing some of the largest pyramidal structures built in the pre-Columbian Americas. It was the sixth largest city in the world during its period of greatest prosperity, according to an estimated population of 125,000. The city seems to have functioned for centuries as a well-developed urban center until its rather sudden collapse, possibly in the seventh century. We walked approximately two kilometers down 'The Avenue of the Dead', the main street of Teotihuacan. We climbed the steep steps to the top of 'The Pyramid of the Sun', were we had a great view of 'The Pyramid of the Moon'. And with a birds eye view, it was still difficult to absorb the enormity of the city.


After a lot of sight seeing, we rode back into Mexico City to meet up with Damian. Since it would be our last night in Mexico City, Rocky, Damian and I took a city bus downtown to enjoy a nice dinner. We walked through the city before arriving at a really nice restaurant that featured live music and mainly served Italian food, it was a nice a change. After dinner, we had a fun late night roaming around. Mexico has a lot of entertainment on its streets, whether people are singing, playing instruments, performing in a fire show, cooking, crafting or juggling, something always seems to be going on.


Once again it was time to pack and say our good byes. Damian and Lilian* were such kind hosts and our experience in Mexico City was awesome. I won't miss the traffic but I will miss everything else.

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Your photos are excellent. Are they photo shopped at all?
Also Paula do you have a sister :-)

Hi Rocky and Paula! It's really great that you are posting more stories from your trip. When the accident happened the reports still had you back in the US, which is understandable because it must take a lot of time to write such great reports and wifi is not always available, etc.. I was hoping you guys would regroup and restart your journey and it looks like you are, which is great! And as an added bonus you are putting up the reports on your travels in the days before the accident--fantastic! Let me tell you, they are worth waiting for! Rocky, the photos are wonderful, and Paula, your writing is too! Learning about the people you have met and their culture really adds another dimension that you don't often find in reports. Thanks so much for posting....looking forward to the "new" trip!!

I usually try to do as little editing in Photoshop as possible. I do colour corrections, curves and white balance adjustments in Aperture, then I do spot removal and resizing in Photoshop.

Paula does have a sister, but she's married with four kids. Her brother is single, though. bier

Thanks!

It was a lot of work on the road to keep the blog up-to-date. I stopped writing my version, mostly because it was too much work, and I'm not very good at it and don't like writing much. Paula writes well, but I still have to prod her to do it.

We hope to get caught up on the blog before we leave again this spring/summer. I like to think of it as a continuation of the original trip (but maybe it technically isn't). Hope you follow along. :)

November 12 – November 22, 2011
 

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It was difficult leaving Mexico City because the traffic was terrible, I doubt it is possible for anyone to ever get a speeding ticket there. We decided to grab a bite to eat as we drove through, and of all places to stop, Rocky chose Subway. I'm not sure how he isn't sick of eating there.

We were on our way to Valle De Bravo, still in the State of Mexico. It should have taken us two hours to get there but we've come to realize that riding through Mexico takes twice as long as riding through Canada or the USA. After finally escaping the city traffic, we had to deal with the country roads where there was one topes (speed bump) after another. Anticipating when we'd ride over the next one was exhausting. When the topes seemed to finally end we began riding through rolling hills that finally led us to Valle de Bravo. It was a really nice town and seemed like the perfect vacation destination for any nearby cities.


We went on a mission asking people if there were any campgrounds but we weren't having any luck. We kept being given directions that didn't make sense or we were directed to an RV park that didn't rent space for tents. They weren't even busy, I couldn't understand why they'd turn us away. We finally took a wrong turn in the right direction because we ended up at the lakes edge where the police kept their boat docked. I asked the officers if they minded us camping there and their response confused me. They looked at me funny and said in Spanish, 'of course you can, but I don't know why you'd chose to. There are so many better places to sleep'. Silly cops hadn't a clue. We set up our tent on flat land of soft grass just far enough from the waters edge giving us an incredible view. It is probably safe to say that it was the most perfect spot to sleep in this town.

We packed up the next morning but we weren't ready to leave. We stopped at a KTM dealership, enjoyed some coffee next door and then went out riding around the town. It was too bad that we had all of our gear loaded on the bike because we had found a perfect spot for off-roading. Hungry, we stopped and ate delicious pizza that really hit the spot and then went back to camp at the same place as the night before to watch the sunset and spend the night.


We organized our things the following morning and rode along the coast. That ride turned out to be the toughest most annoying ride we had been on yet. The terrain was mountainous taking us into high altitudes through some clouds. The weather kept changing from warm, to fresh, to humid, to chilly, and I began feeling a bit nauseous. I think that the altitude may have affected me because I felt weird. I resorted to humming for the rest of the ride, I'm not sure why but it seemed to help distract me from what I was feeling.

The roads were winding and Rocky had to be very careful to avoid hitting fallen rocks, roosters or donkeys. We actually found a donkey limping up the mountain and stopped to offer it some attention and Gatorade (we didn't have water). There are two things I can think of that really bother me about Mexico. Malnourished, limping, flea infested, skin diseased animals. I wish I knew how to help hurt animals because it is a serious problem in Mexico. The other thing that broke my heart was the litter. Plastic wrappers, bottles and cans are littered in a man made river of trash on the side of the roads. You can be looking at the most beautiful display of nature at its finest, while standing on a mountain of rubbish. It's sad.

The elevation finally dropped and we soon reached a city called Ixtapa. It was very modern and it looked like a foreigners typical vacation spot. Hungry, Rocky stopped for more... Subway, of course. Uhggg!!! How can he do it? I can no longer stomach a bite or stand the smell. It will be a very long time before I am able to go to Subway again. After eating, we stopped at a cafe and enjoyed the first good cup of coffee I had in Mexico. It was nice to relax on the patio as the sun was setting.


One of the locals there recommended a campsite we could stay at, close to the beach. He told us that he goes there all the time and it only costs 50 pesos ($4). So I checked online and found the website to confirm. I was excited, the place sounded great! We rode past a bunch of resorts down a dark road until we finally reached the campsite. I walked up to the fence and asked the guy working there how much it would cost us to camp and he said 90 pesos ($7.50). He opened the gate for Rocky to ride through and then asked me for 180 pesos ($15). I asked why the website advertised a different price and he explained that the cost went up without the website being updated.

Frustrated, we refused to stay. It's hard to justify spending $15 to sleep in our own tent,* just to be able to take a shower and flush after we pee. We got on the road and headed back in the direction from which we came. I was worried because it was already night time and we weren't sure where we would be spending the night. We then turned on what seemed to be a dead end street that surprisingly led us directly to a huge secluded beach. It was our own private area and we were eager to pitch the tent and jump in the water before bed. Morning came and it was awesome to step out of the tent and see the scenery under the warm bright sunshine. It was simply beautiful. We spent all morning and most of the afternoon laying on the sand and swimming in the ocean.


We eventually got hungry and decided to go back to the same cafe as the night before, having WIFI there was a definite bonus. I had received an email from Nancy, we had met her through www.couchsurfing.org at the beginning of our trip and stayed with her in Grand Forks BC in Canada. Nancy has a sister named Carol who lives with John in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. Since we were a short distance away, Nancy recommended we stay with Carol. Throughout the day, I tried calling Carol but the payphone kept eating my money, so Nancy recommended we show up because we were expected. The only problem was that the directions we were given, were in typical Mexican style, "look for the wooden house on the beach."

The sun was about to set and we decided to try and find the wooden house on the beach. We rode around, up and down different streets until we finally reached a house with a wooden fence. I didn't see the beach nor did I see a wooden house but I was getting desperate at that point and just wanted to ask somebody. A lady was standing nearby and she handed me a tiny little black kitten. I thought it was random but I took the kitten because I couldn't refuse the furry little creature. She pointed behind me and asked if we were looking for the English people, to my surprise it was a house made of wood behind me. She told me that I must deliver the kitten to Carol, she would know what to do.

This was awkward. With a kitten in my hand, I knocked on the gate and greeted the stranger I was hoping was Carol. I introduced myself, Rocky, along with the kitten. We were immediately welcomed,* and I was relieved. It turns out that the kitten had been found in the dumpster and Carol's neighbor had hoped that Carol would accept the furry creature or find it a new home. Carol and John, being the sweet people they are, couldn't reject and immediately adopted the kitten.


After drinking some wine and sharing some stories Carol suggested that John show us our room. He told us we had to drive to it and that confused us a little but we followed. Just down the road we pulled up to a house with a large Tamarind tree out front. When walked through the gate my jaw just dropped. Carol and John owned a gorgeous bed and breakfast. It is stunning. We had a beautiful room with a king size bed and a private bathroom. There was a common area with hammocks and a hot tub. This place was a wonderful surprise and treat.

After a great night sleep, John came to pick us up to go surfing. I had never surfed before and I believe it was Rocky's first time as well. We picked up John's friend and the four of us headed to the beach. Surfing was fun but also very exhausting, I probably would've been much better at it had I ridden the waves and not ridden against them. After a few hours, bruises and mouthfuls of salt, everyone was out of the water and John said he got stung by a Stingray on the bottom of his foot.* Stingrays have one or more barbed stings on their tail, and its underside has two grooves with venom glands. I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like to be stung but he handled it very well. Not only did he drive, but he even made a stop on our way back to the house. There is an herb used for the sting and it is called Riñonina in Spanish. Riñon means kidney and the herb is known to be excellent for kidney ailments, but along other things it is also used to ease the pain and inflammation from the sting of a Stingray. When we got back to the bed and breakfast, Carol boiled some water, added the Riñonina and John soaked his foot.

Later that night, Rocky and I walked to the town center to wander around and grab a bite to eat. I think it's hilarious that we can walk down the street drinking a 40 of beer, super classy. We were catching a good buzz when we met one of the store owners, it turned out that he too had caught a buzz but pee'd his pants because of it. He was a nice guy though, we talked for a while about life and politics. We all spoke the same language of drunk and somehow understood each other.


We were supposed to go surfing again the next morning, Rocky went, but I couldn't function, I was hungover. Later that day, we met Carol, John, and some of their friends by the beach for a bite to eat, and again, some drinks of course. Rocky and I, then joined John on a bar hopping tour of the town,* it was fun. The following day, John invited us to eat a traditional Thursday soup called Pozole, made of hominy (white corn soaked in lime (as in the mineral, not the fruit) and cooked with pork and chicken broth, and served with accompaniments of avocado, crisp pork rinds, radishes, oregano, chile, lime, chopped onion, and sometimes taquitos and pieces fresh Mexican cheese. It is often served with Mezcal,* a distilled alcoholic beverage made from the Maguey plant. So, even though it was only noon, we had to try a shot of it. It's tradition!

I had a serious good time meeting Carol and John. They spoiled us with kindness and treated us like true friends. Staying in La Tamarind was beyond perfect. I hope to visit again sometime and even rent the same room. If you are interested in visiting Zihuatanejo to rent or purchase property, check out John's real estate website at www.mbprealestate.com* (Mexico Beach Property).* And, if you're interested in a healthy lifestyle and delicious recipes, you can find Carol at www.zihrena.net* (Zihrena's Mexican Garden).

Feeling fantastic, rested and refreshed, we had to get back on the road and deal with more topes. Topes should be illegal, I hate them. We weren't really sure where we were headed but we were going to ride through Acapulco. I wasn't to excited about it because, as it's a large city and I heard it was very dangerous. I really didn't like it once we got there because it was dirty, busy and sketchy. I may have liked it more had we ridden by the coast but we didn't bother. We kept going until we were back on the highway and slightly passed the city. It was getting dark and with no idea of where we were staying we decided to camp on a grassy area on the side of the highway.


We woke up the next morning and still weren't sure where we were going. We continued riding the coast and knew we'd eventually find a great place to stop. Mazunte was definitely more than great. It was a backpackers haven, a perfect place for us to venture. We rode down the main strip and stopped to ask a lady at a shop if she knew of a place to camp. She said yes and asked us to follow her up the road. I thought it was nice that she would show us the way, but I didn't realize, at the time, that she wasn't taking us to a campground.

We arrived at a small two-story building that had the name Arrecife written across the top. The woman asked me to follow her inside and led me up a set of stairs into a large open area with a roof top, table with chairs and a couple of hammocks. She told me that we could either rent one of the three rooms down the hall or we could pay 80 pesos ($7) to set up our tent in the large room. We were happy to rent out the large balcony, we even had a bathroom with a shower. And, since nobody else was renting a room, the entire area and bathroom were private.

Mazunte is a small village wedged between a wide, one km long beach. It is, known for many of the eco-friendly cabins and other buildings which consists mostly of palm fronds, adobe, bamboo, shells stones coconut shells and wood, designed to blend in with the landscape, and it is famous for sea turtles, due to the many turtles that go there to lay eggs.


We decided to explore more in the morning because we were tired but we probably should have gone out because we didn't get much sleep anyway. It was a weekend and a beach party thumped the speakers until 4 am playing old school rap and reggae. I didn't mind it so much because it was music I haven't heard in half my life but shortly after it stopped, our morning was filled with the sound of roosters crowing and dogs barking. It wasn't the best night of sleep that we've had, …but the next day was spent laying in a hammock, watching T.V and shows on the laptop.

We went for a walk on the beach in the early evening, and picked up some Coronas and limes on the way home. That night, we drank beer, ate snacks, and watched a documentary. The woman whom we were renting the space from, came to visit us that*night. I thought it was a sweet surprise. Her and her daughter told us of things to do and see in the area and we showed them pictures of our travels.

Being a Sunday, we slept much better that night. I woke up to the sun and the birds singing and we headed over to a beach-side restaurant for some breakfast and to use the internet. Later that afternoon, we went to beach and laid under the sun. I went in the ocean a few times but the undertow was really strong and I kept seeing large shadows in the water. To be honest,* I think I was paranoid of being stung by a Stingray. I don't want to encourage living in fear but it was a good thing at that moment because I noticed a bunch of jelly fish washed up on the shore. Moments later, I saw that a few people had been stung. As much as I love the ocean,* it really creeps me out.

We woke up the next morning to another sunny day. We went for brunch and had another lazy day lounging at the beach. I could get used to this kind of lifestyle. That evening, we went for a delicious fish dinner, had a few beers and watched a movie before bed. We were planning on leaving in the morning to head towards San Cristóbal de las Casas. Life was hard.

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San Cristóbal de las Casas (November 23 – December 10, 2011)
 

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We left Mazunte and planned on riding in the direction of San Cristobal de las casas, located in the state of Chiapas. After an hour and half of slow, windy roads divided by small towns and villages, the roads finally straightened out and we thought that we were going to be able to make good time. Its not often you can ‘make good time’ on the roads of mexico, and this day turned out to be no exception. It wasn’t long before traffic came to a complete stop and we found ourselves getting deeper into the thick of it. We pulled off to the the side of the road and sat at a table under the shade of a plastic hut above us. The entire area was lined with tables, overhangs, cauldrons and BBQ grills. We ordered some food and asked the lady what the traffic was about. We found out there was a protest but I had a difficult time understanding the dialect and couldn’t seem to figure out what it was about. Regardless, it was nice to see such a huge gathering standing up for what ever they believed in. Even though it took us a lot of effort to get away from the crowed road, we were eventually able to pick up some speed.

It had been a long day and we still weren’t sure where we’d camp for the night. We considered a field, across from a store we had stopped at, but it turned out to be a military base and we weren’t allowed. We continued driving on the highway until we reached a toll booth. Exhausted, we decided to camp behind a small building, by the toll booths, on the side of the highway. Early the next morning, Rocky woke up and left the tent. While I was in there alone, I heard a bunch of women talking and laughing hysterically. What I heard them say was something along these lines (in Spanish), “Where are you going white boy? I was just about to drop my pants. Jajaja!” “Don’t be scared, we are just a group of ladies! Jajaja” “Can you pass us some toilet paper, we all need it to wipe our ass? Jajajajaja.” Shortly after, Rocky came back to the tent and I heard the women giggling. It turns out that they really needed to pee but the building was closed and they had to go behind it. They were surprised to see Rocky there but with good humor, they joked amongst themselves. when I walked out of the tent, their giggle turned into full laughter cause they weren’t expecting to see a women after all the naughty jokes they had made. But the best part, was when I greeted them in Spanish and they realized that I understood everything that they had said.


We continued on the road and stopped in a town named Tuxtla Gutiérrez, for some breakfast, at a corner side patio. Women walked the street balancing large baskets on their head. Some were filled with breads, pastries or flowers. We then continued riding through the beautiful State of Chiapas, making a few stops along the way, until we finally reached San Cristobal De Las Casas. I had contacted a man named José Luis on couchsurfing.org, and after stopping for some tacos we arrived at his house. Most Mexican houses have a tall gate surrounding the perimeter, at the doors of this gate was a large sign reading La Clave de Sol*. Jose Luis came out to greet us with a firm hug and said “Follow me this way my friends!”. We followed him around to the side of the house where he opened a different gate leading us to the backyard. We parked the bike on the lawn and followed him into the house.

*La Clave- A Clef is a musical symbol used to indicate the pitch of written notes. De Sol- of the Sun*


What happened next was extraordinary. We walked into a large kitchen/dining/living room and we were introduced to many friendly faces. It was Jaana’s birthday and everyone was celebrating. Drinks were poured, dinner was made and about to be served and everyone was doing something towards contributing to the festivities. The energy was high and we were overwhelmed with all the beautiful chaos that surrounded us. Jaana, with her sweet accent and gorgeous long blond dreads was traveling from Finland and is married to Pablo, the creative jewelry maker and empanada king from Argentina. *Empanada is a popular Argentinian meal* There was a French couple visiting from France, named Aurore and Julien. The stylish couple, Miss Charleigh from Scotland and the incredible chef Jimmy, from England. Robin was visiting from BC Canada. The hilarious Chiky from the Canary Islands, her friends, América from Madrid, Mar from Spain, and a girl whose name I have forgotten. Jose Luis then introduced us to the calm, cool and collected artist Jonathan, from New Orleans. Jonathan was renting an apartment on the property but was leaving to visit the beach for the week. We were surprised and very grateful when he invited us to stay in his apartment.

The party continued until late that night, Rocky wasn’t feeling well so he retreated to our apartment. I stayed up drinking cheap liquor called Tiburon, it cost me an entire dollar for the bottle. Charleigh was my new drinking buddy and we stepped out on the porch to join others for a cigarette. I was already catching a buzz and not expecting what came next. As I starred out into the darkness, I felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me. I was trying to focus on the faint outline of a figure when I suddenly recognized what was starring back at me. It was a horse! My goodness, there were more than one. I was shocked and elated, I had no idea this place could have gotten any better. Not only did Jose Luis bring together a great crowd to create the kind of atmosphere that all human beings should be exposed to, but he also chose the perfect location to share with strangers from all around the world. Jose says he was once a politician, but I adored his hippy side. Thinking of him will always remind me to smile. His laugh, his heart, his kind eyes and the way he always said in a high pitched voice, “whoowhaaaat”. I loved his crazy stories, even the one about Lake Atitlan, a few friends, a few ladies and something about avocados.


What an incredible place! It was already dark out when we had arrived and it was difficult to register exactly what the area was like. But, from what I could gather, there was the smaller house that Jose Luis lived in, where the party was taking place, it was called “Two Moons”. To the side of it, was a huge three story house that was actually separated into thirds, creating three different apartments named, Solstice, Eclipse and Equinox . There was a large backyard with a vegetable garden on the side of the large apartment complex, and stables in the back, for the horses. As the night continued, I found myself in a conversation with Oliverio. He was the one who owned the land and built this magical place. Oliverio was the manliest man I had ever met, or as Rocky calls him, the “French-Mexican Marlboro Man”. He was a jack of all trades, tall, dark and handsome. In the morning, I would meet his lovely girlfriend Catherine, an artist from southern France.

I woke up the next day slightly dehydrated, most likely alcohol related. Rocky was already awake and I found him outside in the backyard doing yoga with Jonathan and some others. I laid in the hammock on the balcony under the warm sun until Rocky was done. We took a ride out though the City for a bite to eat and a little site seeing. San Cristobal is located in the Central Highlands region of Chiapas and sits in a small valley surrounded by hills. Its Spanish colonial layout, with narrow cobblestone streets, roofs covered in red clay tile, the facades of the buildings painted in various colors and wrought iron balconies with hanging flowers, is simply beautiful. Much of San Cristobal culture is associated with the city’s large indigenous population, which is mostly made up of Tzotzils and Tzeltals. The traditional culture associated with these indigenous groups is the making of textiles. Gorgeous fabrics are sold and worn by them. Amber is also very popular along with ceramics, wrought iron and filigree jewelry. We returned to La Clave De Sol and relaxed until dinner was made. Jimmy prepared an incredible Indian inspired meal for everyone and we all sat by the fire place for more drinks that night.


A large greasy breakfast was great for my morning hangover. We found a restaurant down the road that served eggs, bacon, pancakes, fruit, coffee, juice, etc. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten what I consider a traditional breakfast. The only thing missing was Canadian maple syrup. After breakfast, we stopped to pick up some groceries because I planned on making some Coke Chicken for dinner. Coke chicken is chicken cooked in Coca Cola. When heated, the Coke caramelizes and coats the chicken with a sticky delicious glaze. Unfortunately, I figured out later that night after cooking the chicken for 4 hours, that it would not caramelize because the Coke in mexico was made with real sugar cane, unlike the Canadian/American Coke that is made with cheap substitutes. At least the chicken turned out really tender.

We woke up early the following morning despite going to bed late. I made a large pot of soup for everyone and relaxed most of the day. While Rocky napped, I hung out on the back porch with Charleigh and Jimmy and we drank Tequila out of the bottle. It makes me laugh to think back on that, I really enjoyed their company because I’m not much of a drinker, especially hard liquor out of the bottle, at noon time. Jaana and Pablo planned on making pizzas for dinner that night. Most of us joined at Jose Luis’s house and just as dinner was being prepared, the electricity went out. Luckily there was a fire burning in the fire place and we all grabbed whatever flashlights we had. It turned out to be such a fun time that as soon as the lights came back on, we turned them off and continued to use the flashlights. The pizzas were yummy and of course, we drank more liquor and even smoked a few joints.

It was cold and cloudy the following morning. Being located in the mountains, San Cristobal was always chilly, but with the sun hiding behind clouds made it much cooler. Rocky and I went for tacos in the morning and found a great bakery that served good coffee and pastries. Before retuning to La Clave de Sol, we picked up some firewood to heat up the apartment. Regardless of the whether, it was a dark depressing day, I would be saying good bye to my drinking buddies and sidekicks Charleigh and Jimmy. As they cabbed it to the bus station, we followed them on the motorcycle to say our last goodbyes. The next few days weren’t the same but at least the sun was out.

We had been waiting for some motorcycle parts to be delivered in the mail and they had finally arrived. Although we kept the chain on the motorcycle spotless, it was due to be replaced. Being a motorcycle owner as well, Oliverio spent some time with Rocky, looking over the bike. Oliverio asked to test out her power and Rocky allowed him of course. The gate was opened, they exchanged bikes and both rode up and down the street a few times. It was obvious that Oliverio enjoyed the KTM because I tried taking pictures but wasn’t able because he was riding too damn fast. He even rode past one time with both hands in the air! Oliverio invited us to join him and Catherine out that night. Catherine and I went shopping during the day and met up with the guys after the sun went down. We walked through the city center, tasting cheese samples and stopped to buy some coffee beans at a local coffee shop. After bar hopping and doing a few shots of Mezcal, a Mexican alcoholic treat, Rocky realized he had lost his helmet. Luckily we found it at the coffee shop. We had such a fun time hanging out together that Oliverio suggested we go out to a place he knew we would enjoy the following day.

We woke up the next morning and rode the motorcycles to go see a waterfall. After at least an hour and a half on the road, we reached Cascada El Chiflón. We hiked up stream for a long time, admiring the teal colored river. Our visibility was limited to what was directly in front of us and it wasn’t until we were a short distance away that we had seen the falls. It truly blew my mind. It all began with a light mist as we climbed higher up the path. Suddenly we reached an area where we were given view of the largest most powerful falls in Mexico. I was not expecting this at all. I can only describe this moment as the most magical one I have ever shared with nature. I climbed a bit higher and walked onto a platform that extended out in front of the falls. I stood with my arms in the air as the mist soaked me completely and the sun kissed my face, embracing me with a rainbow.


After an awesome day and a delicious bite to eat, we dried up as much as possible and headed back home. The ride back seemed to have taken much longer. The sun went down and it got cold very quick. Being a bit damp still from swimming earlier was not helping at all. I was so cold that I spent the entire ride fantasizing about sitting in front of the fireplace. The moment we returned, we immediately started a fire. Since staying in San Cristobal, Rocky became quite the fire maker. Nothing beats a wood burning fireplace.

To our surprise, Jonathan had finally returned and we were excited to get to know this kind stranger a bit better. We woke up early the next morning and it was great to join him outside for his yoga lesson and then a nice cup of java. Jonathan is a coffee snob as he would call himself and staying with him taught me to appreciate a strong cup of coffee. After a relaxing day, Rocky prepared a huge pasta dinner and invited everyone to join us. Most of the same friendly faces showed up but also new ones like Alex and Mia traveling from Quebec, Canada. Once again, we ate, drank, smoked and laughed lots.

The following day was reserved for fixing the bike. We accomplished most of it until the chain tool broke, repairs had to be put to a stop until the following day. With no other responsibilities, we decided to get stoned and meet the newcomers, Kate from New Zealand and Floris from Belgium. Oliverio took Rocky to a tool maker the next morning and got the chain tool fixed, after we finished working on the chain Oliverio and Catherine invited us to have dinner at their apartment. Oliverio told us how he was from France and his father was a famous Mexican actor. He showed us old pictures and shared many stories of how his father began his artistic career in 1938 until 1947 in Mexico before being contracted as a singer and musician in Libya, Egypt, France and many other European countries until 1978 when he returned to Mexico and worked in Televisa (television) programs until he passed away in 2003 at 80 years of age. It was fascinating to look at all the great, old pictures Oliverio had saved, Rocky even scanned a few pictures for keepsake.

The next two days were spent relaxing, smoking weed, drinking coffee and preparing for Oliverio’s birthday. Rocky planned on digitally restoring the picture of Oliverio’s dad and spent a several hours doing so. On the day of his birthday, we stopped at the grocery store to pick up some cake and conveniently found one that was made with tequila. That night, everyone gathered together at Oliverio house for the festivities. What a great party! There was never a dull moment at La Clave De Sol.


We slept in the next morning, I thought everyone would have until I caught Jonathan downstairs with the coffee already brewed, a large pot of soup cooking on the stove and a painting being drawn on the wall. I hung out with Jonathan most of the day while Rocky napped but, once he woke up, I helped him do an oil change on the bike. Later that night we spent watching documentaries on the computer in the living room. As we were sitting in the dark, Rocky asked what was running across the floor. I turned on the light and to my surprise I saw a big, fat spider the size of a large gum ball. I immediately grabbed the broom and gently brushed the spider towards the door. I was seriously petrified doing so but I couldn’t let the spider stay inside. There was a short step to the doorway and I was panicking because I wasn’t sure how to lift the spider up. With another gentle brush I tried maneuvering the broom a certain way but it didn’t work. Instead, the spider rolled against the step and actually made a loud thud. Oh my goodness! I was so scared and Rocky wasn’t about to help me, he just told me to leave the thing alone. How the hell am I supposed to ignore a spider that thuds when it slowly hits a wall? I finally managed to lift it up the step and I continued to brush it safely out the door. For the first time since staying at La Clave De Sol, the night was so silent I could hear the crickets, everyone was asleep. Just as I noticed the silence I almost broke it with screams as I also noticed I was surrounded by at least ten spiders the size of the one I just let out.


The next day, Jonathan told me it was margarita day and I was excited. Rocky and I were still waiting for one more package to arrive in the mail, so we rode to the post office and it had finally arrived. Once we returned to La Clave De Sol, Rocky spent the day napping while Jonathan and I hung out. He wanted to make nachos so we took a walk down a few wrong streets but eventually found a store. We purchased everything we needed and went back to make some salsa, guacamole and Margarita’s. Jonathan is one of the best people I have ever met and it made me sad to know that Rocky and I were leaving the next day. Once morning came, I was really sad because I felt as if I was leaving something incredibly special behind. Today, I know otherwise. La Clave De Sol is forever with me.


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Passing through Oaxaca on our way towards Chiapas, we passed through a large wind farm just outside of the town of Iglesia del Nazareno.



La Clave De Sol was always full of travelers from all over the world. From left to right: Paula (Canada), América (Spain), Pablo (Argentina) & his girlfriend, Jaana (Finland), Charleigh (Scotland) & her boyfriend, Jimmy (England), Mar (Spain), Jose Luis (Mexico), Auror (France), Robin (Canada), and Auror’s boyfriend, Julien (France)



Charleigh, Jose Luis & Jimmy “The Brit”



Having arrived in San Cristóbal de las Casas after dark the evening before, we didn’t notice the stables and horses until one appeared out of the darkness.



After over an hour motorcycle ride and an hour of hiking, Oliverio, Catherine, Paula and I finally arrive at Cascada El Chiflón, one of the largest and most powerful waterfalls in Mexico.



The power of the falls sprayed a tiny water droplets everywhere, enveloping us in a cloud of mist.



I saw Catherine taking a close-up of this little critter on our hike up the river.



On our hike back to the motorcycles, we all took a dip in the cold, refreshing waters of the river downstream from Cascada El Chiflón.



Oliverio In Exaltation



Nights in San Cristóbal de las Casas in November/December can get quite cool. During the day I would take the ax and gather firewood (until I realized that there were shops on the other side of town that sold them by the bundle for quite cheap). We enjoyed the warmth of a roaring fire every evening.



Jonathan usually started the morning with a either some form of alcoholic beverage, a marijuana cigarette and some yoga – sometimes all three.



In the middle of changing the chain on my motorcycle, my chain press tool broke (probably my fault). I rode on the back with Oliverio to his friend’s machine shop to have a replacement piece made.



There were always travelers coming and going at La Clave De Sol. Jose Luis’ smile and laughter were infectious.



Flores (Belgium), Jose Luis & Kate (New Zealand)



At one point during our stay in San Cristóbal de las Casas, there were eighteen travellers who, at one time, gathered together at La Clave De Sol.



Cooking With Jonathan



Paula & Catherine at Oliverio’s birthday party



The Three Stooges



Oliverio’s Father (left) was a famous Mexican actor. His began his artistic career in 1938 until 1947 in Mexico before being contracted as a singer and musician in Libya, Egypt, France and many other European countries until 1978 when he returned to Mexico and worked in Televisa (television) programs until he passed away in 2003 at 80 years of age. This is the photo that I restored for Oliverio for his birthday.



In his state of inebriation, I didn’t know if Oliverio realized that the cake wasn’t round. I didn’t have the heart to tell him.



The night was a blur…



When Oliverio wasn’t climbing up trees and chopping them down with a hatchet, he tended to his horses.



Oliverio’s stallion (who prefers his right side)



Paula & Oliverio On Horseback



Oliverio – The Man, The Myth, The Legend



After tending to the horses, we rode in the back of the truck with the wind in our hair and the sun on our faces.



The Dude abides. If there was a refined and artistic version of “The Dude”, Jonathan would be it.



After about two weeks at La Clave De Sol, it was time to move on. We will always remember the moments and the people we shared them with while we were there.



If you are planning on visiting San Cristóbal de las Casas, Oliverio has rooms for rent, rents horses and gives guided tours. He also makes jewelry, rustic furniture and sells organic vegetables.

The Yucatán (November 10 – December 21, 2011)
 

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We rode through lush mountain scenery for approximately five hours until we reached Palenque. Its a good thing that shopping isn’t practical on our trip, because Palenque is a really cute town with many shoe stores. More importantly though, Palenque is an ancient Maya site. Its ruins date back to 226 BC, to its fall around 1123 AD. After its decline, it was absorbed into the jungle but has been excavated and restored and is now a famous archaeological site. It is estimated that less than 10% of the total area of the city is explored, leaving more than a thousand structures still covered by jungle.

After stopping for some tacos, we rode away from the town until we found a campsite. It was a nice affordable place to camp that offered hot showers and a really nice restaurant that served alcohol and had live music. El Panchan was only a few kilometers short of the Palenque ruins. It was an interesting place with its blend of hippies, people on holidays, backpackers and Rastas. The experience was further enhanced by its jungle setting, with the sound of howler monkeys frequently heard from the high canopy. I thought they sounded much more like a cheetah would, than a monkey.

We woke up early the next morning and hung out at the ruins for most of the day, enjoying the beautiful setting of towering trees that surround the site. There is a peaceful calm that envelops you as you walk around exploring the jungle trails that lead to other smaller plazas and temples, and to the travertine cascades that carry water down the mountain during the rainy season. After spending most of the day at the ruins, we stopped at a museum and then went into town to walk around and grab a bite to eat. We purchased a few beers to go and on our way back to the bike we were stopped by a shop owner offering us free samples of liquor. Cappuccino Agave Liquor is delicious but instead of buying a bottle, Rocky purchased some crickets. Yes, crickets. Apparently, they are a popular snack. I’m not sure exactly how they are prepared but they were dead, dry and covered in chili and lime seasoning, of course.


Once we got back to El Panchan, we sat at an outdoor table towards the back of the restaurant. Rocky immediately tried to convince me to eat some crickets, but I’m not the type to like bugs. He then attempted a different approach and tried feeding me beer. I eventually gave in and decided to eat a bug, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t convince myself to do it. Eww, the thought of chewing little legs repulsed me. Especially when I imagined any of it stuck between my teeth. Uhgg, it’s creepy body crunching in my mouth, there was no way I could bring myself to eat a bug. And then it happened. Maybe it was the beer or maybe it was because I was ashamed of being such a chicken shit, but I ate a bug. Just one, but I did it.


It was a beautiful night and we decided to take a walk down the farm road. There were a few more campsites and rentals about 400 meters away and we decided to go venture and see if we could find our new friend Jelmar. We met him earlier that afternoon while we were at the ruins. He was visiting from the Netherlands and told us he was staying at a really cool place. We also heard that if we walked down the road at night, a Mexican would jump out of the bush and offer to sell us magic mushrooms. There were trees and bush on either side of the road. It was dark out but the bright moon created a stunning silver effect on the sky above us. Suddenly, a man came out from out of the bush and said, “mushrooms, mushrooms?”. Before we could say “yes please” or “how much?” A car came down the road and the man with the ‘shrooms got paranoid, disappear, and never returned. We continued our walk and stopped to check out the live entertainment up the road. We stayed for a moment, peeked for our friend Jelmar but didn’t see him. We walked our way back to El Panchan and enjoyed a few more Coronas’s before bed.

We left Palenque the next morning and rode through patches of rain. For the second time during this trip, a bird flew into Rocky as we were riding. Is that common to any other riders? We left the state of Chiapas and went on our way to Merida, in the state of Yucatán. It was a really pretty city and the weather was much dryer than it had been in the humid jungle. After eating some tacos, we searched for a place to camp and found a large grassy area by the highway. We thought it was the perfect place and we felt like we were well hidden but the police noticed us and stopped to question what we doing their. They were really polite and didn’t mind us staying, they just asked that we leave with any trash we created.

When we woke up the next morning, we went for breakfast at McDonald’s, more so for the internet than the food. Jimmy and Charleigh from San Cristobal had sent us a message saying they were at a small town nearby but we weren’t able to properly coordinate to meet. Instead, Rocky and I continued on the road to Chichen Itza ruins. It is one of the largest Maya cities, but the entrance fee was out of our budget, so we opted for tacos. Unsure of where to go next, we thought about sleeping at a church yard but drove to Tulum, in the State of Quintana Roo, instead. It was night and we always try to avoid driving at night but we had the highway to ourselves and it was new and freshly paved. I consider it one of my favorite times on the road. It was a long, smooth, relaxing ride. The air was warm, the moon was large and millions of stars were shining through the blackness of the sky.

I had been to Tulum years before, and I was really excited to return. I remembered it having very small eco-hotels, some didn’t even provide electricity or hot water. I remember tents randomly placed throughout the beach and everything was closed after 10pm. I remembered Tulum was was very calm, peaceful and beautiful. We arrived just before 11pm and rode for a very long time before finding a spot to camp. Far past all the resorts, most of the area was secluded and we found a great place. The next morning, we were approached and asked to leave the private property. It didn’t matter, we rarely ever camped at the same location more than once. We packed up our belongings after a quick dip in the ocean, and rode towards the town. Tulum was looking much, much busier than when I had visited, years before.

We were enjoying a cup of coffee while sitting out on the patio of a bakery that offered WiFi. A guy approached us and introduced himself as Sean. Him and his girlfriend Blossom were visiting from Australia and were also traveling two up on a motorcycle. He suggested we camp by them and go for dinner together. It was really exciting to meet another couple sharing a very similar experience. A few hours later, we rode until we found the sign for public beach access and pulled into a long sandy driveway that lead into the beach. To the right of the path was Santa Fe restaurant/campsite, it’s property line was marked by a roped fence. We parked the bike and as we walked around to find Sean and Blossom, we were immediately approached by a Santa Fe employee asking if we were looking to camp. We told them that we were looking for our friends but we would be looking to camp on Federal Land instead. They asked why we wouldn’t camp on their property and we explained that since we wouldn’t be using any of their facilities it would make more sense for us to camp for free somewhere else. After they insisted that it was illegal for us to camp on Federal Land, they told us that by staying on their property we were protected by their 24 hour security. Their aggressive sales pitch was dishonest and annoying to say the least, we said no thank you and walked away.


Outside of the fenced Santa Fe property, we found a place to pitch our tent. It was located on Federal Land and nestled in the shade of a few palm trees. We found Sean and Blossom, their tent was approximately 30 meters away on the opposite side of the roped fence. We placed our gear, boots and a few other belongings into a couple of PAC Safes (aircraft cable mesh), and left them locked up in the tent as we rode out to dinner. It was delicious! After we ate, we rode back to the beach and walked up and down the coast getting to know each other. It was really interesting how much we shared in common with Sean and Blossom. Although they had traveled to many other continents before our trip began, our journey from Western Canada to Tulum had been very similar. I’m surprised that we didn’t meet sooner.

Sean was very intelligent, creative and adventurous, much like Rocky. They shared the same kind of thoughts and even the same camera and video camera. Their birthdays were only a few days apart. Blossom reminded me of myself. She was easy going, low maintenance, passionate about life, and we had even worked in the same profession. Her birthday was a few days before mine. Blossom met Sean when she was really young but began dating him a few years ago. Rocky and I had met at a very young age but we began dating a few years ago. Weird.

After grabbing a few coconuts we walked to their tent and just as we were standing there, one of the employees shone his flashlights in our faces and began swearing at us, demanding that we get off of the property. Apparently, they were very mad that we didn’t camp on their site, but were there visiting our friends. It was already past midnight, we weren’t about to camp somewhere else for the night and I couldn’t justify paying to move all of our things on to their property. Especially after all the attitude. So, we remained where we were and we would camp somewhere else along the shore the following night.

We woke up the next morning and Rocky immediately noticed a gash cut through our tent. There is an obvious chance that it could be anybody but I don’t think I’d be too crazy to assume that the hot headed Santa Fe rent-a-cop had something to do with it. Moments later, we noticed that the PAC Safes that locked much of our belongings, was tampered with. The thief had found one of our tools and tried to cut through the metal mesh. They failed miserably. The tool got stuck to the mesh as they tried cutting it. They weren’t able to steal our things but I then realized that the cut in the tent was how they were able to steal my purse.


The thought of a thief stealing my belongings while watching me sleep creeped me out. Although Rocky and I were keeping our cool, my blood began boiling and I burst into tears. My I.D. (luckily not my passport), my camera with all my pictures, my iPhone with my expense list and journal, all the keepsakes and my birth control was in my purse. I carried all my physical memories in that purse and some creep stole it while watching me sleep. I became a hot mess thinking about it all and, before I could say another word, Rocky jumped up and ran over to the Santa Fe property. I chased after him but I was too late. He picked up a picnic table, slammed it down and left with a few choice words.

Minutes later, the police showed up. They explained to Rocky that, although it was likely we knew who the thief was, we couldn’t prove it. Because of this, Rocky shouldn’t have flipped their table over, and he would be going to jail for the night. I was left alone to pack everything up and wait for a tow truck to take me along with the motorcycle to bail him out. As emotional as I felt, I still couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Rocky in a Mexican jail.

When I arrived at the station I was given two choices. I could either let Rocky spend the night locked up or I could bail him out for 1701 pesos. Such a random amount. I told the cops that I was just robbed and asking me for money was an insult. I took 400 pesos from my pocket and told them it was all I had. I had more in my pocket but I wasn’t about to tell them that. Besides, they immediately accepted the 400 pesos (under $30) and Rocky was released. I knew I should have offered less.

It was 3pm by the time we left the tiny cop shop. We were exhausted but still able to laugh about it all. I will always feel deeply saddened by the loss of so many memories stolen but every time I remember the incident, I can’t help but giggle at the thought of Rocky spending some hard time in a Mexican jail. OK, OK, it was more like a small celled drunk tank but still funny. Rocky is definitely not the jail type.

After grabbing a bite to eat, we found a place with WiFi and used Skype to cancel the credit card. We then found a real police station and filed a theft report. It was getting late so we decided to find a place to camp near where we had stayed the first night. This time, we rode a bit further and slept closer to the shore. It definitely wasn’t my most comfortable night. I was obviously still a bit shook and had a hard time sleeping. Early the next morning, we swam for a bit but didn’t stay long because the beach was filthy with litter. It was sad to see so much plastic polluting the shore.


We had bumped into Sean and Blossom and they recommended we stay at a Hostel named Mama’s Home. After all we had gone through, we decided it would be nice to treat ourselves to a hot shower and a comfy bed. Mamas home was awesome. It was filled with travelers, and it was nice to find out that mama was a Canadian who once lived not far from us, back home.

Early the next morning, Blossom and Sean showed up and we followed them to a Cenote. A Cenote is a deep water-filled sinkhole in limestone that is created when the roof of an underground cavern collapses. As it gets filled by rain, it creates a natural pool with underground tunnels. Sean and Blossom love snorkeling and they brought their own equipment. The water was so clear that I didn’t mind just swimming but Blossom insisted I try her snorkel and I was glad she did. It was absolutely stunning to stare into the water and see an amazing cave like system. It was another world down there. I was shocked. The day went well but our luck had been testing us. Rocky jumped in the water with our helmet camera but didn’t realize we had the wrong housing on it until it filled with water. The camera broke and the memory card got damaged. We lost all of our previously recorded videos. After leaving the Cenote, we all made plans to meet up for dinner and drinks later. It was a great time. We met a few people, and shared many laughs. I really liked Sean and Blossom, and as we left the bar that night, I knew we were going to miss them, but I imagined we would see them again throughout our travels.

Back at the hostel, we received an email from Orlando, whom we stayed with in Ciudad Victoria. He told us before that he would be visiting Tulum, so he emailed to tell us he had arrive and wanted to see us before we left. We met him for lunch the next day and we were really happy to see our friend again. It was a short visit, we were on our way out of Tulum, and Orlando was spending some vacation time with a very lovely lady friend.

We were back on the road and I was happy to be leaving Tulum. I had contacted a girl named Maria on couchsurfing.org, who lived with her mother, Isidra, and brother, Juan, in the town of Chetumal, also in the state of Quintana Roo. When we arrived in Chetumal, we had a very difficult time finding Maria’s house. The house numbers in Mexico have no particular sequence, they are randomly chosen as each house was built. Luckily, we asked a postal carrier for directions and she offered to help. Unluckily, she couldn’t find it either. She didn’t give up on us though, we followed behind her scooter and she eventually brought us to Maria’s house.


Maria and her family were amazing. They had accepted four other couch-surfers at the same time and provided us all with comfortable accommodations. We met Kim and Siro from Korea, Stav from Israel and the Canadian Robin, whom we had met in San Cristobal. It was Stav’s birthday and Maria and her family had bought him a cake. It was nice to celebrate an intimate occasion with strangers. There was never a dull moment at Maria’s. Even when we woke up in the morning and relaxed for most the day, there were so many great personalities joined together. I decided to make dinner that night and, once we all finished eating, Robin had a piñata filled with goodies. We all went outside, took a few swings and also lit some fire crackers. It was a fantastic night.

We were up the next morning to the sound of the cello. Maria was practicing for her performance at a charity event we were all invited to attend. Isidra was a nurse at the children’s cancer ward and Maria offered to play the cello for all the guests. It was a beautiful moment. There were many kids, lots of food, a few Pinedas, many nurses, doctors and guests. Isidra was recognized for her hard work and dedication. I enjoyed seeing her in her element around many children that adored her. She is a true nurturer, a wonderful lady.

Later that evening, we joined Maria, Stav and Robin for a tour of the town while the Korean’s went grocery shopping and prepared us a meal. We hopped in a bus and began our walk towards the ocean shortly after. I’m not sure if Maria was being serious because she is the funny type but she had us buy a head of lettuce we had to carry for a while. Once we arrived at the water, she told us to feed the Sea Lions. The trouble was, there were no Sea Lions. Also, people were staring at us like we were weird. With the lettuce gone and not one sea lion in sight, we took a walk through a museum and a few other places before returning back for dinner. Kim and Siro had prepared a delicious Korean soup. It was spicy and full of seafood. We all gathered for dinner and were very grateful to be served after a long day.


The next day was dedicated to relaxing, laundry and dealing with the credit card situation. We were having troubles figuring out where to have a new credit card shipped because we were never at an address long enough to receive it. Stav prepared a Jewish dinner and Robin helped him. It was mouthwatering. Latkes are officially one of my favorite foods.

Later that night I mentioned that I needed to get rid of a joint we still had, before crossing the Mexican border. Stav and Rocky knew how we should do that. We decided to take a walk around the block, Maria lived in a very quiet neighborhood. The three of us stepped outside and once we turned the corner, I lit up the joint. We smoked, coughed and smoked some more. As we walked past a park, I took a drag and through my peripheral vision I saw a figure quickly move to their feet. As the ember on the joint glowed bright on my lips, I exhaled, butted the joint, stuck it in a cigarette pack, stuffed it down the front of my pants and sucked in my gut. We were being yelled at and a Federal Police officer was now in my face. He was screaming at me in Spanish, asking where the marijuana was. I stared him straight in the eyes and told him I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. Rocky nor Stav had any clue what had happened to the joint either. They appeared to be just as confused as the officer, as he shun his flashlight across the ground and found nothing there. For at least a minute , I was in a staring contest with the cop. I am a horrible liar but I was so scared for my life that I won the contest by telling the officer that he was wrong and we were walking away. And, so we did. Once we got far enough I told the boys what had happened, how I had to stuff it down my pants. What a buzz kill.

Staying with Maria, Isidra and Juan, meeting Stav, Siro, Kim and seeing Robin again was a great finale to a fantastic voyage through Mexico. When i think of Mexico, I remember the different smells as we rode through. Either the strong scent of laundry detergent filled the air, the smell of wood burning in a pit or of food being cooked on the sidewalk. I will always remember the food! Mostly, I will always remember truly experiencing some of the best times of my life. We met the greatest people, rode through incredible scenery and learned about a beautiful culture I would be proud to call home. I love Mexico!


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I thought you was going to say the double head reflection in the water... great pictures. x

bier

Thanks!

Guatemala
 

December 22, 2011 – December 30, 2011

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Our paperwork was organized and we were ready to cross the border. I wasn’t sure what to expect because entering Mexico had been so easy but entering the motorcycle was a bit more complicated. We were given some documents and a receipt when we had crossed into Mexico, the documents were to allow the motorcycle to gain entry and the receipt was for a $400 deposit that we would get back once we left the country. I felt as though we were well prepared and I hoped that it wouldn’t be a long complicated process.

The first stage of exit was to present our passports to the customs officer. After being cleared, I had to walk to the customs office. A long line of people stood outside under the hot sun waiting for their turn. It was difficult being fully geared, I was sweating a puddle. Once I was finally able to present all of the papers, I was told that I would have to go to a store a few blocks away to get photocopies of a few things. What? Luckily, a kind stranger was listening near by and told me that him and his family needed to do the same and offered to drive me. I would never had made it walking that far in the hot heat. With everything ready, I returned and had to wait in the long line up again. I was happy to finally be told that I had everything needed.

We then rode up to another booth a few hundred meters away so that we could purchase motorcycle insurance, it cost us $12 US for the day. We were warned that Belize cops loved to issue tickets to drivers without insurance. Slightly further up the road, there was another booth we had to stop at were we were told that any vehicles crossing the border needed to be sprayed with bug spray to prevent exposing different bugs into Belize. The guy told us that since we were on a motorcycle, we wouldn’t be sprayed but we would still have to pay $6 US for it. None of it made any sense to us, so we told him that we wouldn’t be paying for something we didn’t need and we rode away. Another couple hundred meters up the road was the immigration office for Belize. I entered into the building and presented them with all the paperwork and paid $30 entrance fee into Belize. We were then to ride to a booth and get cleared to cross by a customs officer. Along with our ID, he told us we needed all the receipts but we were missing the one for bug spray and he asked us why we didn’t have it. We explained to him that we were told we didn’t need the spray and we thought it was odd that the man insisted we pay anyways, so we refused because we sincerely thought he was trying to scam us. The customs officer reacted as though we insulted him and he became really rude to us. I still don’t think that it was wrong of us to assume that we were being scammed. Without choice, we turned around, paid for the receipt, went back to the customs officer and were finally allowed to enter Belize.

Just over a kilometer away from the border, a cop pulled us over to ask for proof of insurance. We were beginning to understand why people complain about traveling through Belize. The area we rode through seemed a bit boring but the people seemed really sweet, everybody waved as we rode past. We probably should have spent at least one night there, but we wanted to get to Petén, Guatemala as soon as possible. Christmas was around the corner and we were invited to share the holidays with a family we found on couchsurfing.org. We would also be sharing the holidays with Jonathan from San Cristóbal. He too had been welcomed to stay with the same family, in Petén.

We continued riding until we finally reached the border out of Belize and into Guatemala. Once again, I had all the paper work ready and Rocky waited outside with the bike as I went in. We then rode up to the Guatemalan immigration office, our passports got stamped and I paid $22 but when I presented all the paperwork I was told that Rocky needed to be present since that motorcycle was under his name. With all the paperwork ready, we were to go down a street to a store that sold photocopies. It was really frustrating that a customs office didn’t provide themselves with photocopies. We always kept the original documents, they needed the photocopy. Why didn’t they at least sell me the photocopies in the customs office?


It was getting late and we were finally into Guatemala. We traveled on a paved road for a while but it suddenly became a dirt road. Every few meters was a large pot hole. I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. I was tired and we hadn’t eaten in many hours. It was dark out, there were no street lights and we were surrounded by trees and thick bushes on either side. We continued on this creepy road until we eventually reached Petén. I remember feeling a sense of relief once we approached the city, almost as if the bright lights and traffic kept me safe. I was also excited to see a Pizza Hut. I felt comforted, by the familiarity and also the thought of eating something of substance.

After stuffing our faces with a large pizza, we got back on the road again and finally reached our destination. The family we were visiting lived on the outskirts of the city down a few dirt roads. There was a tall wall built of cinder blocks around the perimeter. We honked the horn a few times and I felt bad for arriving so late as we waited for someone to answer the door. Memo approached the gate and greeted us to come inside. The property was very large. We were asked immediately about our travels and lectured for riding in the dark. Apparently, the dirt road we had ridden on is known for its high crime rate and shady police officers that rob people. We were warned not to ride at night ever again.

The house was built on a beautiful piece of land, it had to have been at least 1/2 acre. A narrow stream ran through the middle of the property, I was told that it was full of eels and native fish that can live for 3 months without water. There was many flowers, hundreds of native jungle plants and trees throughout the property. The house was under construction but walls and ceilings had been built. To the left of the property was an area with walls and greenery that somewhat secluded that space for some hammocks. That is where Jonathan was sleeping. Beside there, was an outdoor sink and cement water tank. They are called Pila, it is common to see these. With the water shortage in these countries, it is important to have a cement tank filled with water. Just as we passed the kitchen, there was an outdoor sitting area and behind it was the children’s bedrooms, along with ours. There was also a shared bathroom and shower, and further down was the parents quarters.


It was nice to meet everyone in the morning, Memo was an American and he was married to Angelica, a Guatemalan Maya. They had 4 beautiful children together, Wilson, Reina, Perali and William. It was also really nice to see Jonathan again. We were given a proper tour under the sunlight and Memo gave us a little history of himself, his family and introduced us to Buenas Cosas. Buenas Cosas is a cooperative of Guatemalan women, an association of family, friends and neighbors who serve their community and nature. Their focus is eco-tourism and voluntourism with an emphasis on conversational Spanish & Q’eqchi’. They are a non profit organization, and every cent that enters Buenas Cosas goes directly to communities, programs and projects that cultivate ‘Good Things’, or as they say in Spanish, Buenas Cosas. We offered to help and volunteer but it was Christmas holidays and they were taking a break from providing for the community and concentrating on hosting their foreign visitors.


It was December 23 and we rode a few minutes through the city to go visit Flores, the capital of Petén. Floris is an island located on Lake Petén Itza, connected to the mainland by a short causeway. Just as we were getting near, I noticed Jonathan drinking his breakfast at a patio. Rocky pulled over and I sat with Jonathan and enjoyed a cold beer as well. We were going to do some exploring and invited him to come along. Rocky rode and met us across the bridge as Jonathan and I walked. Being the coffee snob he is, Jonathan led us to Cool Beans, a great restaurant/coffee shop that offered free WiFi. We would spend a lot of time at Cool Beans over the next few days.

The following morning was Christmas eve and I was invited to a Guatemalan tradition. Every Christmas eve, tamales are prepared and eaten. Corn was ground, chunks of chicken were marinated and plantain leaves were washed. First, I was to place a plantain leaf flat in front of me and put a spoonful of each, corn and chicken on the center of the leaf. I was then taught to wrap the leaf into a pouch and tie it together with string. A fire pit was lit and a large cauldron had a few rocks lining the bottom of it with some water. The tamales were placed inside and steamed all day long. It was a unique experience to be invited by Angelica’s family, native Maya people, to help prepare for a feast that has been around since as early as the Pre-Classic period.

Once I was done helping, Rocky and I headed to a craft store and bought a few gifts for the kids. Small booths lined the streets of Petén and they were all selling fireworks. When we returned to the house we were told that another Guatemalan tradition was to light firecrackers at midnight to celebrate Christmas. Rocky, Jonathan and I took the kids to go buy some fireworks and after returning with bags full, the celebrations begun. Tamales were eaten and everybody sat around the fire pit and drank some beers. It was amazing how many firecrackers we could hear in the distance, but we all waited patiently until midnight to light ours. After a few walks trough the neighbourhood with beers in our hand, we visited some of the locals who were related to Angelica and her family. As midnight approached we all met back at the house and the fireworks began. Never in my life have I ever experienced or imagined experiencing such a display. The entire sky filled with explosions, the noise was intense. For at least an entire hour I could safely bet that all of Guatemala was lighting up fireworks. The energy during that long moment was incredible. It was a fantastic experience.


We woke up early Christmas morning and exchanged a few small gifts. Memo and his family were kind enough to give us some authentic Guatemalan hot sauce. It tasted delicious with our breakfast tamales. Jonathan had packed and was prepared to leave that morning, I wondered if we would see him again. Rocky and I rode into the city in search of a post office. We had arranged for a replacement credit card to be sent but we were having no luck receiving it. We kept checking for it every day but we expected the postal service to be no better than Mexico’s had been.

We returned to the house with some groceries and planned to make dinner for the family. We prepared Penne Pasta with meat sauce. It was interesting to watch the children’s reaction as they ate a food they’ve never tried. Memo giggled and said not to tell the kids that they were eating Penne, apparently the word means Penis in Spanish. We all giggled with him.

The next morning, Rocky and I planned on visiting Tikal, one of the largest archaeological sites and urban centers of the pre-Colombian Maya civilization. We rode for almost an hour and suddenly lost the clutch. We had to turn around and head back for some help. We stopped at a couple of places but it is difficult to find somebody who wasn’t intimidated by such a large piece of machinery. The KTM 990 is definitely not a common bike to work on in the area. Just as we began losing hope, a guy from a local mechanic shop helped us. He said that the clutch lever piston was off and he adjusted it back in.


Since it would be too late to visit Tikal, we decided to get the bike washed. It had been a while since she was cleaned. We entered a washing garage and it was cute to see the excitement in the employees eyes to be able to wash her. I was surprised by his enjoyment and the detail that he placed on making her look new. He spoiled her with what i would consider a high end spa experience. We then decided to ride to Flores for a bite to eat and use WiFi to check the status of the credit card that was supposed to have been sent. To our surprise, we bumped into Jonathan and hung out with him until we headed back to the house for our last night in Petén. Early the next morning, we packed all of our belongings and once again said goodbye to our new friends. We were very grateful for the memories they had left us with during our stay in Petén Guatemala but we were ready to continue our journey through the country.

Guatemala City was our next destination and our ride there was one I will never forget. Rocky wasn’t feeling well and the day was a difficult one to get through. Hours into the ride, we had to pull over so that Rocky could nap on a picnic table at a gas station. A few hours after that, we had to stop again for another long rest. The traffic in Guatemala was extremely stressful. The highways were only two lanes. Which means, when there are slow moving vehicles in either lane, which is usually the case, you inevitably get a line up of cars in both lanes, desperate to pass. We had to constantly move onto the shoulder as oncoming traffic including large transport trucks, were always in our lane coming at us head on.

I had contacted a family through couchsurfing.org for us to stay with them in Guatemala City. By the time we were near, it was already night. We could see the city lights in the distance but we were separated by a few mountains. Unfortunately, the highway through those mountains were under construction and the lack of street lights made it almost impossible to ride safely.


The roads were partially paved and the damage on them was barely visible in the dark. There were potholes along the way but more dangerously, there were large chunks of road missing. In Canada, any area of road too dangerous to travel on would have some sort of warning, a flashing sign or at least a few meters of pylons to warn us. In Guatemala, what we saw was, if there is a large hole in the road, a larger rock/boulder is place immediately before it as a warning. There were a few times that I thought we would die trying to avoid the dangers.

When we were finally near the house of the family we were about to visit, we had a difficult time locating the address. We stopped numerous times to ask for directions and every time that I showed anyone the address on Rocky’s iPhone, I was lectured to hide the phone to prevent being robbed. Theft seemed to be a large concern amongst the locals. When we eventually found Stevan’s home, the sense of relief I had felt is indescribable. Stevan’s father answered the door and explained that his son was at a local church for band practice, and he would be returning soon. By the time Stevan had shown up, we were shown to our room. Stevan’s family owned and rented the home next to theirs, and that is where we would be staying. It was late and we were exhausted, we immediately fell asleep the moment our bodies met the bed.

When we woke up the next morning, we were invited next door for breakfast. Tamales were served and they were prepared much differently than we had eaten just days before. They were made with potato, chicken, green olives and dates. A delicious combination. Stevan lived with his father Josue and his mother Zarai. He had a sister named Gioana and a brother Guillermo but we wouldn’t meet the two of them until later. Josue was a soft spoken polite man with kind eyes. Beautiful artwork was hung on the walls, I was impressed to find out that it was Zarai who had created it. Stevan was also an artist, he belonged to a band named Wud Link and played the guitar. I love that we continue to meet amazing people along our journey.

With concerns over the condition of the motorcycle, we located a KTM shop not far from the house and rode to get a new clutch lever piston and seal. We thought it was best to have the mechanic install it, servicing it ourselves wasn’t practical at this time. After spending the afternoon with the kind mechanic at KTM, the motorcycle was fixed and we returned to Stevan’s home. Stevan invited us to go walk around the mall with him his friend Jose. We gladly joined them. Guatemala City was huge and I thought it was a pretty city. The mall was much bigger than the one back in the city I grew up in but the population there was much bigger as well. It was nice to window shop and compare prices to what we would pay in Canada. I was surprised to see that although Canadians economy was better, everything there seemed more expensive. After a few hours of talking, walking and laughing together, the mall was about to close and we headed home.

We prepare for our departure in the morning by packing all of our belongings and sharing goodbyes. It was just a few days before New Years and we planned on spending the celebration at Lake Atitlán. We were back on the crazy roads of Guatemala.

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We rode to meet Jonathan, who caught a tuk-tuk into town, and found him drinking his morning beer.

Paula snapped a shot of this guy down by the lake. I have no idea what he was drinking. Something tells me it’s not water.

Lake Peten Itza – located near the town of Petén in northern Guatemala.

Two Guatemalan dudes on the island of Flores

Lago Petén Itza

William

Jonathan, Perali & Paula

We spent the afternoon at Buenas Cosas making tamales with Memo’s mother-in-law, Margarita, and enjoyed the native Guatemalan treat for Christmas Eve dinner.

Another Furry Friend

Perale was quite a little character, and a natural in front of the camera.

Jonathan left for Tikal on this rainy Christmas morning. This is the last we though we’d see of Jonathan, but we ended up bumping into him again in the nearby island of Flores the following day.

We said goodbye to Stevan and his father, Josue before leaving Guatemala City and heading for Lake Atitlan.

Paula with Stevan, a tattoo artist, musician and our couchsurfing host in Guatemala City.

San Pedro La Laguna
 

December 30, 2011 - January 3, 2012

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We left Guatemala City and we planned on bringing in the new year at Lake Atitlan. Just as we got into the outskirts of the city, we found ourselves in an interesting town with many steep streets. I only realized that we were lost when the road became a big dirt path going uphill. We continued to ride around until we found our way back to the highway. The traffic wasn't too bad and the scenery was worth any stops we needed to make. Guatemala wasn't much different from Mexico, it was an incredibly beautiful country, filled with culture, breathtaking scenery and exotic natives.

We rode throughout many tall rolling hills and a thick sheet of fog greeted us every time we reached the top. Children formed groups on the edge of the highway and they would waive and chase after us as we rode past. We eventually noticed that the cars riding past would throw candies or treats at the children, if they waived. I wish we had known that before, we would have definitely gone prepared. After riding on a beautifully paved road for most of the day, it eventually turned to dirt. It was in such bad shape that I was excited once we were off of it. Rocky told me that Lake Atitlan was close by but since there is no road that circles the lake, we weren't able to catch a peek of it until we reached the top of the mountain.


It was a great introduction! The view was more enchanting than I could have ever imagined it to be. Lake Atitlan is large and recognized to be the deepest lake in Central America. It is ringed by volcanoes and shaped by deep escarpments that surround it. Volcano San Pedro is the oldest of the three, Volcano Tolimán began growing after San Pedro stopped erupting, and Volcano Atitlán remains active, with its most recent eruption having occurred in 1853. Freshly paved switchbacks lead the way down the mountain. They were very steep and the corners were extremely tight. I was kind of scared until large buses filled with passengers, zipped by and seemed to turn corners on two wheels. Traveling by bus seemed much more dangerous than the motorcycle.

We arrived safely in San Pedro, an extraordinary town. Since New Years was around the corner, we had planned on staying at a hostel. The streets were packed with tourists and as I got off the bike to find out some sort of direction, a local offered to help find us a place for cheap. I followed his lead and after a five minute walk he found us a room in one of many small hotels. It was three stories tall with open corridors that overlooked the entire lake. Decorated with a few hammocks, lawn chairs and a beautiful garden, it was more than awesome, especially for $14 per night.


After a nice hot shower, we planned on going for a walk. It's amazing how much a hot shower is appreciated, so much so that I even risked my life for it. Only cold water runs through the pipes, and in order to get hot water, an electrical shower head is used to heat the water. In hindsight, a hot shower was not that important.

San Pedro was a really awesome place to visit. I usually don't like tourist filled places but this was definitely an exception. Lake Atitlan is surrounded by many villages in which Maya culture is still prevalent and traditional dress is worn. The Maya people of Atitlán are predominantly Tz'utujil and Kaqchikel. Often, when people of one culture assimilate to another culture, the traditional style of dressing can quickly become obsolete. This is certainly not the case with the descendants of the Mayans in Guatemala. These proud people boldly wear their traditions on their sleeves.

The native dress of the Mayans, which is called Traje, may vary by village and language group. But the intent of native dressing remains the same, to preserve the rich culture. To Guatemalans, their native costumes are their identity. The women honor their ancestors by wearing a Redcorte (skirt) held up by a woven Faja (belt or sash). The women also wear a Huipil (a traditional square-cut blouse) made with embroidered designs. A shawl drapes over one shoulder, which can be used to carry a baby around. I was very curious to dress this way and the kind ladies in one of the boutiques were also curious to dress me.

The following day was New Year's Eve and we had a few errands to run. We were in desperate need of clean laundry and Rocky's hair needed a cut. Laundry cleaning is a common business throughout Mexico and Central America but aside from a few dry cleaning items, I have always washed my own clothing. I don't know why I felt nervous, my clothing was cleaned so well that it smelled fresher than I've ever know possible. The extra pair of foreign underwear I found washed and folded amongst our belongings wasn't necessary but we got a good laugh from it.


As we walked down a few alleys, we read a sign that said Barber Shop. The barber was a hippy with long dreads and blood shot eyes, but he did own clippers and scissors and Rocky thought that was sufficient. We were invited into a room with a mirror, a chair, a small desk and some crazy paintings on the wall. As Rocky’s hair was being cut, the barber kept stopping to take a moment to run his fingers through Rocky's hair while constantly complimenting, "Wow man, your hair is so soft! I can't believe how silky it feels. Dude, do you know that your hair is like silk." It was obvious to me that the guy was very high on something and my thoughts were proven to be correct when he said, "Just so you know, I can get you anything you like. Do you like acid, man? I've got really good shit!" I have to admit, I was very impressed with the hippies’ ability to cut hair while ridiculously high. He did a great job.


We were ready for the celebrations and considered hitching a boat ride to a town across the lake but Rocky wasn't feeling too well. Instead, we decided to stay in San Pedro to attend a street party. We had grabbed a few of joints from the local who helped find us our hotel room and we stopped at a convenience store to buy a couple 40's of beer. A large stage was placed in the middle of a main street and huge speakers thumped bass. It was such a fun party that the MC even forgot the countdown and introduced midnight a little bit late. Everyone yelled Happy New Year, kissed, toasted and lit fireworks. Guatemalans love their fireworks!

We spent another two days admiring the culture of the town. We enjoyed the simple pleasures of playing a game of tag with the locals at a park and taking pictures of our memories at San Pedro La Laguna. We drank delicious coffee that was grown locally and ate inexpensive meals. Lake Atitlan was a wonderful place to visit but we were ready to continue our adventure and leave one of the most beautiful, colorful places I have ever seen on this earth.


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Traveling from Guatemala City to San Pedro La Laguna, we stopped at the side of the road for a rest and some water.

Walking through the streets of San Pedro, we passed by this Guatemalan girl sitting amongst a pile of rubble with a huge smile on her face.


My little Guatemalan girl: Paula tried on one of the traditional ladies outfits. With nowhere to put it on the motorcycle, we didn't end up purchasing it.

We sat on street corner watching the spectacular scene of the townspeople walking by.

The ladies of San Pedro la Laguna and their traditional attire

These ladies were selling fruit and talking up a storm at the side fo the street.

We spotted this elderly lady on the rooftop of her home hanging her laundry out to dry.

I was in need of a haircut, and decided that this guy's shop looked interesting. Paula and I both soon realized that he was high on something as he switched between trimming my hair and sipping on his beer.

The sun went down in the town square as the New Year's Eve celebrations drew near.

A street corner at dusk in the town of San Pedro La Laguna

I saw this family sitting on the curb and, as awkward as it is taking photos of strangers, I just had to ask if I could take one.

Tall, medium and short

Night time on the streets of San Pedro

A corner shop in San Pedro la Laguna, Guatemala

We saw this child sitting in a tuk tuk at the side of the road with his older brother. Paula handed him the flower.

Two sisters walk through the town square and turn heads.

Mother & Daughters

A family on the streets of San Pedro la Laguna, Guatemala

I tried to secretly take of a photo of this guy laying in his hammock. I guess he noticed.

The People of San Pedro la Laguna

A young girl standing with her mother on the street of San Pedro la Laguna. The guy in the doorway was either passed out from being drunk or just taking a nap.

Everywhere we went in this little town on the edge of Lake Atitlan, we saw interesting and friendly people.

The style of art in this region is filled with bright, beautiful colour.

A shop in San Pedro la Laguna - Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

I snuck to the top of The Primera Iglesia Bautista de San Pedro La Laguna, a Baptist church in the centre of town, to snap a few shots from above.

As we left San Pedro La Laguna the same way we had arrived, we stopped to take some photos of the spectacular view that we had seen when we first neared Lake Atitlan several days before.

El Salvador
 

December 30, 2011 - January 7, 2012

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It was a really damp, cold ride through the mountains. We were on our way to El Salvador, but first, we had two quick stops to make. Antigua was a beautiful city and appeared to be upscale. It is a very popular tourist area because it is possible to take buses from Antigua to many parts of Guatemala, also, because many foreigners like to retire there, and it is one of the most popular and best recognized centers for Spanish language study by students from Europe, Asia and North America. We were going to stop for coffee and some lunch but we decided it was out of our budget. We continued riding until we reached Guatemala City. We were returning there because it was in the direction of El Salvador, but also because we were a bit bummed that we broke our GoPro video camera while we were at the Cenote in Tulum, so we agreed to look for a new one. We had no such luck though. The store was out of stock.


When we finally reached the border of Guatemala and El Salvador, our peaceful ride was interrupted by pure chaos. As we approached the immigration booth, we were bombarded by a handful of men trying desperately for our attention to sell us currency. Rocky stayed outside with the bike and his new friends as I went into the immigration office to present all the paperwork.

After crossing out of Guatemala, we rode a few hundred meters across a bridge until we reached the crossing into El Salvador. We arrived at the booth and the customs officer asked us to park the bike and go back to see him. He passed me a clipboard and asked me to fill in the blanks. I speak Portuguese, although it is very similar to Spanish, I am not experienced enough to prepare government documents. Not one English word was on that form. I pointed to the blank clipboard and handed him all the necessary papers and passports. I tried explaining to him that I didn't understand the language enough to read and write but he barely understood me. He then proceeded to walk away from me and sat at a table inside the booth and started stuffing his face with food. It was bizarre.


I stood their waiting, confused, watching sauce drip down his chin. Just then, his cell phone rag and he held up his finger to his lips before he took the call. He answered his phone and spoke to a person who I can only assume was his wife. "Hi dear, what are you doing today? Nothing. What are you having? I just ate, too...". This conversation continued for longer than necessary and he finally left the booth. As he walked past me, I tried asking him what we were supposed to do but he held up his finger to the air, asking me to wait. He acted annoyed that he had to do some sort of work.

We waited at least an hour for him to return. He handed me a few documents and pointed to an immigration office down the road. While Rocky waited outside with the bike, I stood in a line up for almost an hour. My passport was stamped and so were the papers for the bike. I asked them if it was possible for me to trade spots with Rocky so that he didn't have to wait in line to get his passport stamped as well and after begging for over a minute, they agreed to let me run out and grab his passport. I was obviously confused but didn't hesitate. I returned to the same officer, passed him Rocky's passport and they stamped it without even looking at him. I wasn’t about to say anything. I gathered everything together and I asked them if I needed to do anything else. They reassured me that I was done and everything had been stamped and approved.


After a long day of border crossings, the sun was quickly dropping and I was worried that we would be driving at night. We rushed out the office and eagerly left the area. As we headed down a paved road for a few hundred meters we unexpectedly approached another booth and an officer asked to see our documents. How many booths does one border need? The officer told us that we were missing something and we would have to return to the immigration office, somebody there was expecting us. We were obviously annoyed but I had to re-enter the office. This time, instead of waiting in line, I was approached and told that a photocopy of the new stamped documents was needed and I would have to go down the street and around a corner to buy the copy. Now, I am known for having a lot of patience, but I felt my face burning and my eye twitching. I almost cried with frustration. There was no way that I was going on any mission in search of a store for a copy of anything, especially when there was a photocopy machine right behind the woman speaking to me. I was so confused that my facial expression must have communicated my thoughts because she finally made herself a copy and I gladly left the building.

It was almost completely dark out and we were finally well past the border crossing. Thankfully, we weren't too far from our next destination. I contacted a man on couchsurfing.org and we were welcomed to stay at his home. Attilio lived in a small town, not too far from the border, called Concepcion de Ataco. By the time we had finally arrived, we still had a difficult time locating his house. We rode up and down the cobblestone roads and we asked anybody we saw for help. We were grateful to be approached by an English-speaking woman who brought us to Attilio's house.

Attilio is a tall, built, and handsome older man with kind eyes. He welcomed us into his yard and showed us to our room. Since it was late and we were exhausted, we had an early night. It wasn’t until morning when we were able to get a better idea of our surroundings. Attilio’s house was what I consider simply perfect. It was small but large enough for guests and comfort. I loved how every room was accessible from outside, the kitchen was open to the outdoors and the dining table was out on the patio. A large yard with beautiful flowers, fragrant herbs, fruit trees and coffee bushes embraced us. It was a very peaceful home.


Attilio walked us around and we were immediately charmed. Ataco is a small village in El Salvador's northern highlands surrounded by lush green hills and coffee farms. The streets were narrow and built of cobblestone, warped with age. One of the most interesting aspects of Ataco was its collection of brightly colored murals painted on homes and businesses throughout town. We visited a bunch of shops that sell a wide variety of crafts including sculptures, ornaments, weavings, embroidery, candles, key chains and coffee but the most interesting was a local craft shop were we could see and appreciate gorgeous fabric being made using Leaver Looms.

We visited the local market to get some chicken for dinner. While there, Attilio introduced us to fruit we were unfamiliar with. Jocotes (pronounced ho-coat-es), is a small red fruit with the consistency of a plum and the flavor of a tangerine, but my favorite was green mangoes. Mmm, they are delicious on their own, dipped in vinegar, lime juice or sprinkled with salt. I prepared lemon chicken for dinner that night, using fresh lemons picked from a tree in Attilio’s garden. We sat around relaxing, enjoying the sounds of Jazz music and learning of Attilio's days as a basketball player and Greyhound bus driver in the USA.


The following day, Rosario returned home from her visit in San Salvador and we were finally able to meet Attilio's other half. She was an incredibly sweet lady who smiled and giggled as much as myself. I was completely charmed by her. She brought a large Red Snapper back with her, and treated us to the best ceviche Rocky and I had ever tasted.

On our last night in Ataco, we invited Attilio and Rosario out for dinner. Once we were done eating, Attilio said we were going to pick up bread for breakfast and we followed them down a few roads and through a few alleyways. It was almost 9pm when we arrived at somebody’s doorstep and waited in the entrance. After a few short minutes, a small door was opened at a large bricked area and to our surprise it was a large brick oven full of fresh baked bread. The smell was intoxicating. One dollar later, we were walking home with a bag of bread. Our stomachs were still full from dinner but that didn't stop our mouths from drooling. We couldn't help but stuff our faces. It was the softest, warmest, freshest bread. Half way back to the house, Rocky and I couldn't help but decided to turn around and go back for another bag full so that we had some for breakfast.

Attilio and Rosario are the sweetest couple, living in the cutest village I have ever visited. Ataco showed me all the beauty of a simple life. Attilio and Rosario introduced me to the purest form of living it. I am forever humbled. And with these memories, I will always be reminded of the path my life should follow.

We left Ataco and began our journey through El Salvador. What a beautiful, interesting country! Women walked around wearing colourful clothing with cute lace aprons and I was surprised to see that a lot of people had the most striking blue eyes to compliment their otherwise dark features. Everything was pretty, even the light posts and guard rails had flowers, birds and butterflies painted on them.


It was a warm sunny day and the weather was perfect for a gorgeous ride along the coast. We planned on spending some time at the beach and stopped when we reached El Zonte, a small beach town along the southern cost of El Salvador. The beach was a rock beach. There was no fine sand, just a lot of smooth rocks of many sizes. We walked around searching for a cheap place to stay and settled for a place for $15 per night. It seemed like a steal but the room was dingy. It had two twin beds and each where covered with a thin unfitted sheet. The ground was cement and was covered in more sand than the beach had. At least it had a shower in the bathroom, but unfortunately, somebody forgot to mention that it didn't function. We ended up only paying $10 for the room since the shower didn’t work, which was still a generous amount.

We were a short distance from the beach and we took a walk to peek. It wasn't the greatest place I had been to, and Rocky must've agreed because he wasn't inspired to take any pictures. After a few minutes under the hot sun, we became thirsty and that gave us the perfect excuse for a beer. Luckily, the bartender told us that we could drink our beer up on the patio, attached to the second story of a really nice motel/hotel. The view of the ocean was awesome and so were the hammocks and swimming pool.

After an uncomfortable stay, I was looking forward to leaving in the morning. We packed up and planned on crossing into Honduras. The weather was perfect and Rocky was contemplating whether or not he should wear his full riding gear. I don't care how hot it is, jeans aren't sufficient when riding long distances, especially while riding through Central America. The road conditions were brutal. Most highways cut through towns and had only two lanes. If there was any slow moving traffic, large transport trucks would take any opportunity to pass, even if it meant moving into oncoming traffic. I can't count how many times Rocky had to dodge a transport truck that appeared in our lane, directly in front of us coming head-on. I was surprised to see most vehicles had window tint covering all glass including the windshield. The tint was so dark (illegal on any car window in Canada) that a thin strip on the windshield was bare at eye level in order to have some visibility, but I can't imagine that helped much.

It was late in the afternoon and we were getting close to the Honduras border. Having gotten stuck for hours at the border entering into El Salvador, Rocky was anxious to arrive in time so that we weren’t left riding in the dark of night. I could sense the tension on the road. The conditions were unsafe and full of distractions. I felt Rocky's frustration as he turned onto the shoulder of the road in order to go around a slow-moving vehicle. It all happened so quickly...CRASH!!!

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We met Attilio on couchsurfing.org. Attilio lived in a small town in El Salvador's northern highlands called Concepcion de Ataco.

Attilio and Paula in front of Attilio's home

Many of Ataco's building were covered in brilliant, colourful murals.

Among the multitude of plants and flowers growing in Attilio's garden were the berries of the coffee plant.

There were many beautiful and exotic plants growing in Attilio's garden.

We visited a local craft shop in town were we could see and appreciate gorgeous fabric being made using Leaver Looms.

After shopping, we walked backed along the cobblestone streets to Attilio's to prepare dinner.

Paula in Ataco

We saw this interesting-looking old man sitting in the streets. He appeared to be homeless.

Attilio told us that he often saw this man and would help him with a few dollars whenever he met hm in the street.

The brightly-coloured murals on the town's buildings told the story of the region and the people who lived there.

We stopped at a local corner shop so that Attilio could buy some cigars. The shop owner was this beautiful little old lady.

Walking through town, we passed this interesting rammed-earth home.

On our way back to Attilio's, we saw this guy sleeping in the streets. He was outside what appeared to be a bar, and was likely drunk and had passed out on the concrete.


Rosario was Attilio's other half. We said so-long to both of them, and we left Ataco having glimpsed the beauty of a simple life.

San Vicente is a stratovolcano in central El Salvador. It is located next to the town of San Vicente and is the second highest volcano in El Salvador. -- Wikipedia

The Accident
 

January 7 - January 14, 2012

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg When we left the beach, our first mission was to ride through San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador. It is known as one of the most dangerous cities in the world but it didn't feel scarier than any other city I have been to. We continued riding and planned on crossing the border into Honduras. It was really hot out and the stop and go traffic wasn't helping. It seemed that El Salvador had two types of drivers, very fast and aggressive, also, very slow and timid. I was told that obtaining a drivers license simply consisted of paying for it.


It was barely 4pm and we had already ridden through more than half the country. El Salvador is the smallest country in Central America but it is the most densely populated. We were riding through a city named Santa Rosa de Lima, and we were approximately 15 minutes from reaching the Honduras border. Rocky was annoyed. He had fought with the traffic all day long and I could tell he was frustrated. We were riding on a two lane highway and everyone was weaving in and out of oncoming traffic to avoid slower vehicles. Reluctant to pass into oncoming traffic, Rocky attempted to pass using the shoulder. It was a mistake he would quickly regret. A truck in front of us failed to look onto the shoulder as it pulled over, and he rammed into the side of us as we were passing.

The bike wobbled when we were hit and Rocky struggled to keep control from falling into a long, 3-foot deep, manmade ditch that ran along the side of the highway. His efforts were in vain. We landed in the ditch, but it was a good thing we did because we avoided hitting a steel pole. Unable to stop in time, we smashed into the 3-foot rock and concrete wall at the end of the ditch. The bike hit head-on and we were thrown off onto the driveway in front of us. It all happened so quickly. We jumped to our feet to assess the damage. Luckily, we were ok. Thanks to Rev-it for creating fantastic riding protection. There wasn't even a scratch or mark on our gear. The truck that hit us was quick to leave the scene and the police that rode past felt they had no business stopping. A small crowd of people circled around us as we began removing our belongings from the motorcycle and from the stream of raw sewage.

The ditch was created to collect rain and sewage. It was filled with leaves and litter, and possibly urine and feces, causing a foul odour and making it really difficult for us to gather our things. I will never forget that smell. We had fire ants all over us and they were eating small chunks of our skin. I have never seen so many ants in my life. We were still in shock as we sadly stared at our broken motorcycle. A man, who I assume was my age but smaller than I, spoke out and asked the crowd to lift the bike from the ditch. It was beautiful to watch as everyone helping us. The man asked us to wait as he went up the road to get his pickup truck. With everyone's effort, we were able to get the motorcycle onto the truck and we rode down the street to a home. We were introduced to Evers, his wife Dilma and son David. Their other son, Enrique, lived next door with beautiful wife Yolii and their son Samuel. We were told that we could keep the bike parked at Evers' house and keep all of our gear at Yolii's house, and we were invited to stay at Yolii's mother’s house.


Isabel is Yolii's mom and she lives a few blocks away with her son Didier and his wife Ximena who had just moved back home from living and working in the USA. We were glad they spoke English. It made things much easier. We arrived at their home and they did their best to accommodate us. We were offered everything from food, a hot shower and their own bed for us to sleep on. It was really kind how well we were treated and taken care of. We were completely exhausted but sleeping was almost impossible. My neck and back were sore and Rocky experienced an allergic reaction to all of the fire ant bites. He was ready to scratch his skin off. But complaints were far from our thoughts. We were happy to be alive and cared for.

Once morning came, our minds were racing. We were afraid to impose on our hosts, we were unsure of how to continue our trip and we wondered if we should ship the bike home or try to find a way to fix it, locally. Luckily, we weren't allowed to think too much about it because we were told that it was Sunday morning, and, when you live in El Salvador, Sunday is spent at the beach with family and friends. The invite placed a huge smile on my face. The beach was a perfect idea for the frame of mind I was in.


We packed up some things and had a family day at Playa Negra. Didier, his wife, Ximena, his mom Isabel and his sister, Yolii, with her son Samuel and Yolii's brother in-law, David, and his girlfriend, Milena, treated us to a day out. The sun was shining we were with good people. The ocean was warm and soothing on my muscles. We ate fresh ceviche, drank a few beers, swam in the ocean, relaxed on hammocks and played in the pool. On our drive home, we stopped in a city called La Union. The city center was packed with people. We all sat at a table and ate a variety of Pupusas. Pupusas are a thick, handmade corn or rice flour tortillas stuffed with cheese, refried bean and chicharron (cooked pork). There were also vegetarian options and some stuffed with shrimp or just cheese and salsa. They were very tasty. The only thing that could have made the day better would have been if Rocky wasn't so sad. He was devastated and there was nothing that could have helped his broken heart.

The following day, Evers invited us out for lunch. We joined him and his son at a restaurant named La Mariscada de Pema, where we were able to taste an award-winning soup called Sopa de Pema. It was a seafood chowder that tasted absolutely amazing. Evers told us stories of life in El Salvador. He said that we were very fortunate to have had been helped by the right people. Most neighborhoods in the area are run by gangs and had we crashed in sight of them, we may have been robbed or taken advantage of. He said that gang activity ran rampant and he expressed a lot of concern about extortion. If gang members believe that you have money, they would do anything to take it. Evers said that he would love if his sons could live in a place as safe as Canada and he respectfully mentioned that he would not be opposed to his son marrying a Canadian just for the purpose of citizenship. Sensing that it was a hint, Rocky was quick to say that gay marriage was legal in Canada and he wouldn't be opposed to helping out. That put an quick end to that conversation.


After a lot of thought, we decided it was best if we shipped the bike home by sea and take a flight home. It took days to make all of the arrangements. We had called many shipping companies and encountered many problems. Something as simple as receiving a call back was extremely difficult. But, what really made me frustrated was trying to obtain a police report. We went to the police station but we were told to return at different hours or different days, numerous times. Finally, I just about snapped and began taking names and recording all of the officers badge numbers. I told them I had all of their information and that since they were unwilling to help, I was given no choice but to visit the embassy. That worked quite well. We left that day with a police report and we were told that we would have to bring it to a police station in the city La Union to have the papers certified.

The following day, Rocky and I took a bus to La Union. This bus ride was the most unique experience of our entire trip. I wish we had brought the camera. La union was at least an hour away and the drama on this bus was fascinating. Hah! I don't even know where to start. Vendors kept walking in and out of the bus at each stop. There was a man dressed as a clown trying to collect tips for being dressed as a clown. There were adorable children with straps and belts that held goodie-bags and they were selling the candy. There were women wearing cute lace aprons with hot trays of food and they sang songs of what they were selling. A man, wearing a suit and tie, stood at the front of the bus talking about medical conditions for a very long time. He eventually walked up and down the aisle selling individual pills, that could have been anything, and people were actually buying them. We were so confused watching the craziness everyone else found normal.

Once we finally reached La Union, the police station was easy to find and the officers were helpful. One problem was solved and there were more to be addressed.


We finally came in contact with a company willing to ship the motorcycle. Still, it took a few days to get quotes and answers. It was a very stressful time but, during those days, Isabel, Ximena and a neighbour helped by hand washing all of our belongings so that we could travel home clean. Everything we owned looked better than new. They also helped us with phone calls and translations to make all the arrangements possible. The company that would be shipping our motorcycle was located in the city of San Salvador, and Didier found somebody who would rent us a pickup truck and take the motorcycle, Rocky and I into the city. I'm not sure what we would've done without this amazing family.

It was 4am and we were ready to head out into San Salvador. It took a few hours to finally reach Comca Shipping Company, but that was just the beginning of our day. We said goodbye to Didier, Isabel and Ximena and thanked them for everything. We will forever remember and be grateful of their friendship.

At Comca Shipping Company, Rocky and I spent most of the day taking the bike apart and making it as compact as possible for the crate that was going to be made for the shipment home. The employee we had dealt with told us not to bother removing the fluids from the bike. They offered to drain the bike at no cost if it was necessary. We provided photocopies of all the documents, the police report, permits, and the motorcycle ownership and we were given a receipt with a summary of expenses and told everything was ready and the motorcycle would be shipped within two weeks. Rocky and I had booked a room at the Sheraton and we were given a ride the employee of the shipping company whom we had dealt with. It was a bit past 5pm when we got to our room and as we sat to relax for a moment. I noticed the concern on Rocky's face as he stared at the receipt we had been given. The paper had no real information on it. The price had the word estimation printed beside it and a few things had been scratched off and penciled in. It wasn't very professional and Rocky thought it seemed questionable. We also had no proof of having left the motorcycle in the possession of the shipping company. We called a taxi and rushed back to Comca to get proper documentation. As we ran to the door, the building was closing for the night and we approached an employee on their way out. Luckily, he was the owner. He invited us in and was also surprised of the paper we were given. He expressed that it was odd and he would make sure to give us proper documents and a guaranteed price. This gave us comfort and we were able to leave with some peace of mind.


Our hotel room was beautiful and our bed was especially comfortable. It was a great place to stay but very boring in comparison to the places we had slept, in the past months.

Our flight was booked and we took a taxi to the airport early the next morning. Times were a bit tough at the airport. Our luggage wasn't practical for flying and we were asked to throw out all of our spare bottles of oil, lube, cleaners, and coolant. We gave it away to somebody dropping off their family. They were happy. We were also told to throw out our fuel tanks and camp-stove fuel container because they smelled of gas. I refused. They cost too much money to discard and they were empty anyway. I suggested cleaning them out in the washroom with soapy water instead. The lady told me I could try that, but I would have to run to avoid missing my flight. Rocky waited at the counter as I grabbed the fuel tanks and fuel canister. I ran through the airport ignoring everything but my current mission. As I opened the doors into the secured section before reaching the bathroom, six officers stood in front of me and stopped me from entering. It wasn't until I saw their expressions that I realized how crazy I must have appeared to everyone as I ran through the San Salvador airport hugging a bunch of gas tanks. I just stood there for a moment and I laughed. It was funny and a little awkward because I wasn't even sure of how to explain myself in Spanish. I began to speak but it was my smile, along with a good old fashioned wink that did the trick.

At last, we had everything ready, cleaned, packed, stowed and we were boarded. I was horribly sad how our trip came to an end but I was looking forward to everyone and everything I had missed while we were gone.

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Anxious to get to the border before the dark of night, we were run off the road into a sewage ditch after attempting to go around a slow-moving vehicle. Attempting to pass on the shoulder of the road was my first mistake, and my second was assuming that the driver would check his mirrors before pulling off the road. The driver, once he realized that Paula and I were both OK, was quick to drive away and have nothing more to do with the situation.



Seeing the bike in the ditch, the police drove right by with little concern. Several of the townspeople helped us pull the motorcycle out of the ditch. One came with his pickup truck and took us to his friend's place, where we were given a place to stay. Never underestimate the goodwill of strangers.



The next day, we went back to the scene of the accident.



The family who gave us a place to stay took us to the beach the following day. It was Sunday, and Sundays in El Salvador were for lounging at the beach and swimming in the ocean.



Ximena, Didier and Paula enjoyed the coolness of the ocean water. Depressed over the previous day's events and the state of the motorcycle, I remained pensive, relaxed in the hammock and took photos.



Yolli & her son, Samuel, bathed in ocean.



Ximena was originally from Colombia. She had met and married Didier while they were both working in New Jersey.



Isabel was Didier's mother. She offered us her home in our time of need.



Isabel's husband had gone to New Jersey to work. She had not seen him in person for years. Unable to travel to The United States, she would talk to him on the internet every night.



Our extended family in Santa Rosa de Lima



In The Family Room



After peeking between its legs, Paula informed the family that their cat was actually a male, and not a female as they had thought.



After about a week of making arrangements, we found a shipping company that were willing to ship the motorcycle back to Canada. We rented a pick-up truck to take us to the shipping company in San Salvador, where were began disassembling the bike.



Paula, seen here, is pretending to work on the motorcycle.



Since the total shipping cost was based on both weight and volume, we disassembled the motorcycle in order to minimize the cost of shipping it home.



The bike was going to be shipped to New York by sea, and then trucked to Toronto.



The cost for the shipment, from San Salvador to Toronto, was roughly US$1,200.

Back In Canada
 

January 14, 2012 - Fall of 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It was mid January when we had reached Toronto, Canada. We were immediately reminded of the freezing cold winter. We had contacted Rocky's brother Jason and his wife Andrea to pick us up from the airport and we were extremely excited to see them and their sweet daughter, Madelyn. We had asked them to tell nobody of our arrival, I didn't want my mom to worry and I thought it would be a great surprise for everyone.

First, we stopped at Tim Horton’s for a coffee. Not because it has the best coffee, but because it runs through every Hamiltonian's veins. When we finally arrived at Rocky's moms house, she was definitely surprised. We visited with her for a while and I could see in Rocky's eyes how much he had missed her. I was eager to show up at my moms. When we knocked on my mother’s door, her confusion and shock was obvious. My brother wasn't home, but when he arrived, Rocky and I hid and jumped out as he walked past. At first, he was frightened and then he was shocked to see it was us. I had fun surprising everyone!

Maybe it is a little crazy but what I missed most, was my cats. Mama is 17 years old. Belle is 13. I missed them so much that while we were on the road, I actually cried - few times. It broke my heart to abandon them, especially in case their age was to get the best of them. I realize that I risk sounding like a crazy cat lady but I don't care, they really are my best friends. Rocky and I joked a lot about buying them a sidecar, little helmets and leathers to take them with us. I had left them for a few weeks in the past but never for a few months and in a strange house. I was really happy to see them and I am sure that they were happy to see us as well. While we were away, we tried to Skype with them a few times but my mom put an end to that. She said that they **** all over the place immediately after they were online with us. Now that's love.

The comfort of being home with family, friends and pets, felt amazing but I was struggling to adapt. We had experienced a very strange distortion of time. I assume it was from having had lived a lifetime of memories in such a short period of time, while it was as though, time in Hamilton, had stood still to us. It was also difficult living in the 'meantime'. The bike hadn't arrived yet and all we could do was wait. So, we stayed at my moms, and waited.

After a few weeks went by, waiting for a response from Comca Shipping Company became frustrating. After a few phone calls, we eventually received an email requesting we sign over power of attorney so that they could sign for us as the motorcycle crossed the border. They hadn't even shipped the bike yet!? They said that they couldn't ship the bike until we signed a legal contract stating we were liable for any additional charges that may incur. Once they had our signed permission, they would have a KTM mechanic drain all the fluids and the motorcycle would be shipped. But, why should we have to pay that when we were willing to do it ourselves but were told not to because they would take care of it at no charge if it were necessary? I explained to the guy that signing the contract wasn't possible. Not only would we not pay to have any fluids drained but also because we only had a 3-month visa to keep the motorcycle in Central America. If the motorcycle wasn't shipped out of the country in time, we would be responsible for paying a fine of approximately $100 per day. They already had the motorcycle in their possession for almost one month, we did not trust they would send it out on time since they had promised us it would only take two weeks but lied.

I felt as though we were being bullied. We gathered all the documents necessary and took a 45-minute drive into Toronto to visit the Salvadorian Embassy. I explain everything to the Consulate Officer and Rocky insisted on a Contract Clause stating we are not responsible for draining fluids or Expired visa fees. The Consulate Officer completely agreed. I then called Comca and placed them on speakerphone. I explained that the contract would be signed and sent but a Clause had been added. He responded by telling me that the contract would not be accepted. It was at that moment that the Consulate Officer introduced himself to the conversation, and the contract was quickly accepted.

In the meantime, Rocky was working at his previous job. I on the other hand, quit my last job because my boss was a douche-bag. I absolutely loved working there but I had no intentions of returning. Instead, I accepted a job offer at a b**k. And then I realize that I would rather have worked for the douche-bag. But, to avoid being jailed for bad mouthing a large corrupt corporation, I won't get into it. At least it gave me some money to move out of my mom’s house. Rocky and I rented out the basement of a nearby house. It was huge, beautiful and affordable but living in the basement sucked because I felt claustrophobic. Regardless, I enjoyed the privacy and we were renting from an amazing family. I was glad to have met them.

Being in Hamilton was bitter sweet. I wasn't ready to be home, but, being in Hamilton meant that we were able to share or be a part of some important moments. We attended many birthday parties I was glad that I didn't miss. My mother turned 60, my half brother became a teenager at 13 and my half sisters had her sweet 16th birthday. I am also happy to have been home for a few births. And, unfortunately, death exists alongside life, but I was glad that I was able to attend my friends funeral and properly mourn her passing. We were able to spend some time getting to know my little nieces and nephew. My sister, Maryline, and her husband, Denis, have raised the sweetest little human beings.

Within the first two months I must've gained 10 lbs. We craved everything we had missed and we ate everything we had craved. The simple convenience of having a pantry, a fridge and a stove was incredible. Rocky learned how to make the best pie I have ever eaten. That definitely helped shape my figure. There were so many different meals and restaurants we had missed. The only place I avoided eating at, was Subway.

We also attended a few concerts. Twice, we were able to watch Romi Mayes and Jason Nowicki, who we originally met in Medicine Hat Alberta during our first couch-surfing experience. Speaking of couch-surfing, Alex, the Canadian we had met in Mexico and beyond, had surfed our couch on his way home back to Montreal. It was really cool seeing him.

It is easy to get comfortable in any lifestyle that holds such strong relationships. But, it wasn't enough to keep me in my bubble. I fantasized over all of the memories and anticipated being back on the road. Almost every day I would catch myself wishing the day was over. That never happened while we were on the road. Life is meant to be lived. It doesn't feel natural to ignore the beauty of this planet by sitting behind a desk day in and day out while wishing for the weekend to arrive. I need to get back on the road to continue building this newfound relationship I'm having with Earth.



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We arrived back in Canada at the Toronto Pearson International Airport on January 14th, 2011. We had only told my brother and sister-in-law what had happened and that we were returning so that we could surprise the rest of our families. They were pretty shocked to see us.



We were greeted with a warm welcome from our families and friends, and the bitter cold of winter. Just a few days before we arrived back in Canada, we read Facebook updates from our friends about how they were experiencing spring weather in January.



Paula's friend, Giovanni, threw a big house party. We spent the following day relaxing and walking in the snow in his back field. Giovanni is a man's man - a sort of suburban cowboy - the Marlboro Man if he smoked marijuana and e-cigarettes. And a super nice guy.



With the realization that we wouldn't be continuing our trip until the following year, Paula, Mama, Belle and I got an apartment together. Belle and Paula are seen here relaxing in our comfortable, new pad.



Mama is the elder of the two cats. She was a farm cat that Paula got from an ad in the paper when she was 17. They have been together for the past 16 years, and are almost inseparable. Leaving Mama and Belle behind to go on this trip was very difficult for Paula. It was amazing to see both Mama and Belle again after returning home. Mama has a very unique personality and temperament. There are very few people that Mama tolerates and she doesn't take any **** from anybody. Paula told me a story about how Mama once had a stare-down with a dog and won. But, if Mama does allow you into her little world, it is a very privileged and special experience.



After a night out at Hess Village, a local group of patio bars, Paula ended up sleeping next to the toilet. She ignores my advice to stay hydrated when she drinks alcohol, and she inevitably ends up paying the price and praying to the porcelain.



In August, we went camping in Six Mile Lake Provincial Park with my brother, Jason, his wife, Andrea, and is daughter, Maddy. Jason is a master carpenter, taking after my father. Also like my father, Jason enjoys a cold beer or twelve, and that's just before breakfast.



Paula - while camping in Six Mile Lake National Park



My sister-in-law, Andrea, helps my niece, Maddy (not "Mady") wash the camp dishes. Andrea works for the City of Burlington. She is a great mother and wife, who somehow is able to put up with my brother.



We first met Alex in San Cristobal de Las Casas, Mexico. He was back-packing from Canada to South America and ended up staying with us and several other travellers. Coincidentally, we later just missed Alex in Chetumal, Mexico. He had just stayed with our host, Maria, days before we had arrived. While in Guatemala, we received a message from Alex saying that, if we saw him at the side of the road, to stop and say hi. The next day, we were leaving Peten, Guatemala and we saw two pack-packers walking along the road. Amazingly, it was Alex and a friend. After we returned to Canada, Alex came to stay with us at our apartment as he was passing through Canada on his way home to Montreal.



Mama loves any human food she can sink her teeth into, but she especially loves chocolate, despite it being toxic to cats. She loves butter, hot Italian sausage and even pickled jalapeño peppers. Mama must have been down-wind of the chocolate & almond treat we were eating.



Since we were renting a basement apartment, we sometimes took Mama and Belle to the park to get out of the house for some fresh air. They would have a long winter cooped up in the basement. Belle is a very polite and well-bahaved cat. She's also very nervous but is forced by her love for a good tummy rub to make friends with people.



Paula and I went to Niagara Falls to meet Paula's friends, who drove from Rochester, New York, to celebrate Paula's 33rd birthday.



Paula showing off the tattoo that she had modified and retouched a few months earlier.



Paula with her "bestie", Tonia, and her boyfriend (you can barely see the top of his head) Mike, owner of the famous Perri's Pizza franchise.



The Hangover Part II



At the end of August, Paula and I went on a trip to Pennsylvania with Paula's father and his family.



Paula In Pennsylvania



Paula & her half-sister, Bianca



Paula's father, Nelson, & his wife, Carmen



Paula's half-brother, Bruno, reminds me of a younger version of Jim Carry.



Bianca, Paula's half-sister, balances her brother's zaniness with her much more calm, cool and reserved personality.



The Three Stooges - Bianca, Paula and Bruno



We randomly bumped into Paula's friends and former employer, Dan, who lives and works in Pennsylvania.



After returning home, Paula and I both had a new appreciation for our city of Hamilton.



Sun Setting On The City



Paula, Brandon and Giovanni (in the background).



Before we knew it, the summer was over and autumn had rolled around.

Good morning fine friends.
 

Hi Rocky and Paula from Martin and Cynthia. We dug you from the bowels of the internet and wow, a great blog you have!

We're now in St. John's and trust you might be near St Anthony?

Do we connect over the next few weeks?

Do you wish to couch in Saint John NB on your way to New York?

We had a very fine time in Trout RIver... needed our old age rest though.

Hope to hear from you,

M&C

... again
 

Cynthia suggests that email works: martinflewwelling@nb.aibn.com or my cell # for a text is 506 651-8688.

M

Thanks Martin! We must have just missed you in Saint John. I haven't logged on here in a while, so I just saw your message here now (it's currently July 28th, and we're now in Vermont).

We're both glad to have met you guys. A very strange coincidence that we stayed with your niece, Adrienne, in Halifax the week before we met you guys!

Hope to meet up with you guys some day in the future. You two should really plan a motorcycle trip throughout Europe. :D

Trip Expenses & Statistics
 

August 20, 2011 - January 7, 2012

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Budgeting
In order to travel the distance and for the amount of time we had planned, it was important to maintain a strict budget. Food, lodging, parts and repair expenses, along with fuel costs and efficiency were monitored and recorded. The expense data on this page represents all expenses up to the point where we got into the accident. After the accident, an additional CA$1,250 was spent on a flight home, CA$1,310 was the cost to ship the motorcycle from San Salvador by sea, and CA$150 was spent on a hotel on our last night in El Salvador. These expenses were not added to the total cost shown below since these costs do not represent normal travel expenses.



Lodging

Of all our expenses, the least was spent on lodging. Paula and I did as much stealth camping as we could. Neither of us could justify spending $30 at a campsite to sleep outside. Near the end of the day just before dusk, we would begin to look for a suitable and discrete place to set up camp. This turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip. We found some strange, interesting and often breathtaking places to pitch the tent. We camped next to lakes and rivers, at the side of the highway, in public parks, in parking lots.

After several days without a shower, and when we needed some time to rest and recover, Paula and I contacted couch-surfers. Couchsurfing.org is a social network for travellers and like-minded people who are willing to open up their homes for people who are on the road. A host offers a spare bed, a couch or even a floor to sleep on. The website and hosting is completely free of any charge and is based on reciprocity, and the goal of making travel more easy, affordable, and accessible, while encouraging lasting personal connections with people from all walks of life all over the world. Though the benefit of free accommodation is appealing, neither Paula nor I could imagine the trip without the couch-surfing experience that resulted in the life-long friends that we made through it.

When we weren't couch-surfing or camping, there were a few times that Paula and I were taken in by complete strangers. Stranded by the rain in Durango, Colorado all day, we were offered a place to stay by the manager of a Subway sandwich shop. While in Page, Arizona, a stranger at a McDonald's, who was waiting for his girlfriend to get off work, offered us a place to set up our tent where they were staying.

Food

We kept food costs low by often (too often, according to Paula) eating at Subway sandwich shops. We usually opted for a $5 foot-long, which we both split, and glasses of water. At two dollars and fifty cents per person, it was an extremely inexpensive and relatively healthful meal. We often frequented Subway for their $3 breakfasts as well. As much as we ate at Subway, Paula can no longer stomach even the smell of passing by a store.

Groceries stores were a good option as well. Limited in space and not having any sort of cooler, we weren't able to carry a lot of food. We did often stock up on nuts, dried fruit, trail mixes and beef jerky. Apples and bananas were also an inexpensive and nutritious snack. We also carried an MSR stove and camp fuel with us, but only used it once to heat up some pork and beans and a can of Spaghetti-Os.

When staying with family, friends and couch-surfing hosts, meals were usually provided. If we stayed more than a few days with anyone, Paula and I would like to buy a load of groceries and cook for everyone.


Fuel Prices & Efficiency


When it came to fuel prices, for the most part, we were pretty much at the mercy of the greedy and corrupt oil companies. There is the idea that the earth's natural resources should benefit all people, instead of mainly benefiting a relatively small number of large, multi-national corporations who, in the quest to maximize profits, destroy the environment, engage in price-fixing, lobby against renewable sources of energy, and influence governments who create wars, under the veil of spreading freedom and democracy, in order to secure access to oil resources.

Despite being relatively oil-rich, we, in Canada, pay much higher fuel prices than in The United States. Canadians always find it funny when we hear Americans complaining about the price of gas. I'm sure Europeans feel the same way about all North Americans.


During the entire trip, we filled the motorcycle with a minimum of 91 octane. The highest price for fuel was CA$1.77 per liter (US$6.82 per gallon) between Banff and Jasper, Alberta, Canada. I expected higher than average fuel prices in this area due to its relatively remote location. At CA$0.78 per liter (US$2.82 per gallon), the cheapest fuel prices were in Chiapas, Mexico. Over the course of the entire trip through Canada, The United States, Mexico, Belize, Guatemala and El Salvador, the average price of fuel was CA$1.10 per liter (US$4.14 per gallon).

Fuel efficiency was monitored by noting the distance travelled between fill-ups, when the fuel light came on, and how much fuel was added since the last fill-up. This would result in a number for fuel efficiency that could be extrapolated using the tank capacity in order to determine the tank range. These numbers varied significantly depending on what type of riding was being done (highway, city, off-road, etc.).

An excerpt from the spreadsheet created to record, calculate and monitor fuel efficiency and costs:



Expense Distribution

Coming Back To Life
 

Completion in November of 2012

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Shipping The Bike Back To Canada

Before leaving the shipping agency in El Salvador, we were told that the motorcycle would ship within a week and that, after it had, it would take around thirty days to reach port in Canada. Almost two weeks after arriving back in Canada, I had heard nothing from the shipping agency. I emailed several times and got little response other than they were working on things. Becoming increasingly frustrated and concerned about the return of my motorcycle, Paula and I decided to contact the Salvadorian Embassy in Toronto. We visited the embassy in Toronto and placed a call to the owner of the shipping company. Unbeknownst to him, someone from the embassy was in the room and listening to the entire conversation over speaker. The owner of the shipping company seemed quite surprised when the embassy employee introduced himself. This conversation seemed to help clear things up and get the process moving. The shipment of the motorcycle took far longer than we were told it would, and we were charged by the shipping company for things that we shouldn't have been charged for. Nevertheless, I was glad to see the return of my motorcycle when it did finally arrive back in Canada.

The details of the shipment are as follows:

Motorcycle left at shipping company: January 13, 2011
Shipping time, according to agency: 1 week to ship, 30 days in transit (37 days)
Quoted price: approx. US$975, based on weight, dimensions, and other standard fees

Date motorcycle arrived in Canada: April 27, 2011
Actual shipping time: 3 months and 14 days (104 days)
Actual cost: US$1,288.10
Method of transportation: El Salvador to New York via cargo ship, New York to Toronto via transport truck


The following needed to be paid prior to pick up of the motorcycle in Toronto:

Terminal fee: $65.00
Dock Fee: $40.00


Ordering Parts

It took close to four months for the motorcycle to arrive back in Canada. After finally receiving the bike, I was able to start ordering replacement parts. The main item required for the rebuild was the frame. The original had been completely torn apart at the steering column from the impact during the accident. A possible option would have been to have the frame welded together, but I decided that I would prefer a brand new frame due to the level of damage to the original one.

The front wheel was also badly damaged, and, though not visibly obvious, I was told that there would be damage to the front forks. I ordered a new wheel, front body kit, steering column rod and bearings, and was able to get some used fork from a guy in Austria (thanks Lukas!) who does front-end conversions.

I was offered some shop space by Les, the owner of my local dual sport motorcycle shop, Dual Sport Plus, so that I could work on the motorcycle and have access to their mechanics if I had any questions. After picking the motorcycle up at a shipping warehouse in Toronto, we dropped it off at the shop and I began to disassemble the motorcycle the following week.

Having had a really difficult time seeing the motorcycle returned, I was now dealing with difficulty ordering the new frame. I placed an order with an online dealer who had the frame on sale for US$750. I thought immediately that the price was too good to be true, but the order was proceeding. I was contacted by this vendor and was told that I would need to cut the VIN from my existing frame and send it in before a new frame could be ordered. This was a requirement from KTM, who would ship a new frame out with the existing VIN only when the old VIN had been received. I agreed and was given shipping details for where to send the piece of the frame with the VIN, and was told that they would proceed with the ordering of the new frame. A day later I was contacted again by the dealer. This time the call was to tell me that the part number for the frame I had ordered had been superseded by a different part number, and that he was only able to get that part for US$1,500 - double the price of the one I had originally ordered! I was asked if I wanted to go ahead with the order or cancel. I opted to cancel and look for a better price.

After a bit of searching online, I found the frame, with the original part number, from another online dealer for roughly US$975. I placed the order for the frame and the order began to be processed. Having previously been told that KTM required the VIN, cut from the original frame, before they could proceed with shipment of a new one, I specifically asked about this when purchasing from this dealer in order to confirm this detail. I was told that this was absolutely NOT a requirement. The following email transcript illustrates the headaches that were experienced in ensuring the shipment of the new frame:


On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 11:39 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

I was able to successfully complete the ordering process.

Can you please provide an update for this order: Google Order #224055459555985

Thank you.



On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 3:08 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Yes, it looks like your order has been processed yesterday, and should ship out next week. We will send you a tracking number as soon as your order ships.

Thanks,
Adam



On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 12:11 PM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Before shipment, can I confirm that this is a new OEM frame? I assumed that it was since the description didn't specify.



On Fri, Jun 1, 2012 at 3:19 PM, Customer Service wrote:

This is 100% brand new directly from KTM.

Thanks,
Adam



On Mon, Jun 4, 2012 at 10:08 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Can your provide a mailing address just in case the VIN from my original frame needs to be shipped before a new frame can be issued? I would like to have this ready since almost every other vendor has told me that it is a KTM requirement to receive the VIN cut from the original frame before a new frame can be issued.

Here is my original VIN in just in case it is required to keep the process moving: (VIN)

Thanks.



On Mon, Jun 4, 2012 at 2:03 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Our mailing address is: (mailing address)

Also shown here: (website help page link)

I am really not sure who has been telling you to cut out a VIN number - that just cannot be true. Please don't listen to them. You cannot be expected to cut out a VIN from the old frame as that would not even be legal. We deal directly with KTM, and there is no such requirement. Usually with frames the manufacturer may want the paperwork (pink slip, registration, etc) and they wouldn't let us even order without that. In this case they did not want anything except make and model. Again, I have never heard of any manufacturer asking to cut up your old frame.

Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Jun 7, 2012 at 7:51 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Thanks for all your help Adam.

A few more requests/questions:
• Can you provide me with the new VIN of the new frame that will be shipping once that becomes available?
• Can you add a shipping note to "Hold for pick-up."
• Is there any new information as to when this will ship?

Thanks again for all your help.



On Thu, Jun 7, 2012 at 10:08 PM, Customer Service:

Rocky, we are still waiting to receive this frame from KTM. We will have any information from the frame once its in our warehouse. I can contact you once the frame is here and get you all the info. I will get an update on when it should arrive tomorrow (it should be in the next few days - unfortunately KTM is one of the slower manufacturers we deal with)

Thanks,
Adam



On Fri, Jun 8, 2012 at 3:47 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, per KTM your frame should be getting to our warehouse early next week - most likely Tuesday.

Thanks,
Adam



On Wed, Jun 13, 2012 at 12:04 PM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Any word on the frame yet, Adam?



On Wed, Jun 20, 2012 at 2:51 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, we were trying to find out what the hold up with KTM is, and it turns out you were absolutely correct. They now want the get the vin number physically cut out from the frame. I have asked KTM several times when the frame was ordered and was assured this is NOT the case, but when it came time to deliver, they changed the story. Honestly I have never heard of any manufacturer asking a customer to chop up their frame. Most manufacturers simply want the old VIN number and sometimes copy of the registration and driver license / ID.

So once again, I do apologize, but we would need the VIN number physically cut out from the old frame in order to ship this frame. If you cannot do that, let me know and I can cancel this order.

Thanks,
Adam



On Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 9:46 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Adam,

I cut the VIN from the frame last week. I still do not have a shipping address in order to ship it directly to KTM. Please provide me with the shipping address so that I can ship the VIN directly to KTM USA.

I know that it can be difficult dealing with KTM. If you provide me with contact information (name and telephone number) for your KTM sales rep., I can see if I can get this process moving. I have already lost 4 weeks of build time. I disassembled my motorcycle in shop space that is only being rented until the end of this month. I am now left to deal with transferring a completely disassembled motorcycle to a new location to finish the rebuild.



On Mon, Jun 25, 2012 at 1:36 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, I was sure someone has gotten back to you on this, I apologize.

You cannot send this VIN KTM directly. It has to be sent to us and we have to forward it to KTM Austria. We have tried to get KTM to accept the VIN directly from you (the customer) but they will not do that. We need to get it to us first and then it will go to KTM. We are the sales rep and are affiliated with a local KTM dealership, so the same day we receive your VIN, will be the same day it will go out to KTM Austria.

Our address is: (address)

Please write your order number "44192" on the package.

I know these are some crazy rules KTM has, but there is no way around it. We sell frames for Honda, Polaris, Kawasaki and other brands of bikes and ATVs and never have we ran into a situation like this. Lets hope we can resolve this quickly and get the frame out to you ASAP.

Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Jul 5, 2012 at 9:37 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

I sent you the VIN last week. It should be arriving any day now if it hasn't already. I wrote the order number on the package and made the it out to your attention.

Please let me know when you receive the package. I will send the tracking number later today if you need it.




On Thu, Jul 5, 2012 at 1:14 PM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Tracking number is: CX 468 493 962 CA

According to Canada post, my VIN has been successfully delivered as of July 02.

Please confirm that you have received the VIN and have sent it to KTM.

Thanks.



On Thu, Jul 5, 2012 at 4:16 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Yes, it shows as delivered. This week we have a holiday, so we should be able to take care of it today.

Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Jul 19, 2012 at 11:54 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

Are there any updates or tracking information for the frame yet?



On Mon, Jul 19, 2012 at 4:25 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Rocky, the VIN / neck has been sent to KTM, and as of yesterday, we were told by KTM, that worst case ETA would be 2 weeks most likely sooner (it sounds like the frame is coming from Austria).

I really feel bad that this is taking so long, but unfortunately this is KTM and this is how it works with them. KTM is probably the manufacturer that gives us the most headache with many of our orders with them.


Thanks,
Adam



On Thu, Aug 1, 2012 at 11:59 AM, Rocky Vachon wrote:

It's been almost two weeks. Do you have any more updates on where the frame is? Is there any sort of tracking or concrete way of knowing its location?



On Mon, Aug 1, 2012 at 4:01 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Hi, the frame should be here (our warehouse) today. We will need to arrange for freight shipping to you so it will probably be going out via Fedex Freight or UPS Freight tomorrow. I will send you a tracking number as soon as it ships.

Thanks,
Adam



On Mon, Aug 2, 2012 at 11:33 PM, Customer Service wrote:

Hello Justin Vachon,

Great news! (Dealer) has shipped part of your order. It should arrive soon.

Track FedEx package #726810215013242

Order date: May 30, 2012 1:30 PM EDT
Google order number: 224055459555985
KTM OEM Part - FRAME "FD07" 990 ADVENTURE 07 (6010300110033): $976.79
FedEx: #726810215013242
Additional Shipping of oversized item: $78.05
Shipping & Handling (Ground Shipping): $20.90
Tax (NY): $0.00
Total: $1,075.74


The frame was finally delivered on August 9th, two months and 10 days (71 days) after placing the order. Paula and I knew that there was no time to complete the rebuild and prepare to head out again on the trip that summer. We set a goal to work through the winter and prepare to leave the following spring.


The Rebuild

Three years earlier when I first bought my motorcycle, I was extremely intimidated by it, having never done any real mechanical work before. I remember taking the front fairings off for some reason and being really nervous and uncertain about whether or not the bike would start up again after reinstalling them. Over the next few years, I did more work and continued to familiarize myself with my motorcycle. I was given a lesson on how to perform an oil change, which involves the removal of the left side fuel tank. Using step-by-step tutorials form the internet, I performed a valve clearance check and rebuilt my water pump. During the trip, I met my motorcycle guru, John, who showed me how to change a tire. I performed another valve clearance check in Arizona, and changed a few tires along the way. While in Mexico, I changed out my sprockets and chain for new ones.

This rebuild was going to be a lot more involved than anything I had done before. It required the complete disassembly of the motorcycle in order to move all of its parts from the old, damaged frame to the new one. I approached the rebuild with the idea that, if someone else could do it, there is no reason why I couldn't. I try to approach most things with this mindset. Understanding that it wouldn't be easy, I knew that what would be required was the right level of effort, thoroughness and focus.

I began by slowly disassembling the motorcycle, piece by piece, while taking photos of everything and carefully placing every nut and bolt in a labelled baggie. I drew diagrams showing the general routing of cables, wires and hoses and their locations relative to other parts on the motorcycle. Being very thorough, it took several days to disassemble the motorcycle to the point where the only thing left on the old frame was the engine and swing-arm.

Les was only temporarily renting the space he had offered, and, since the new frame was taking longer than expected to arrive, I decided to take the pieces of the motorcycle and store them in my mother's garage until I was able to start the rebuild.

After many headaches and a lot of waiting, the new frame finally arrived in August. It had been almost seven months since returning to Canada. It was far too late to complete the rebuild and prepare to head out on the trip by the end of summer, so Paula and I decided that we'd have to get our own apartment and wait until the following year to begin our trip again.

We moved into our apartment at the end of June, and it wasn't until the end of October that I got up the motivation to tackle the rebuild. I transferred all of the parts of the motorcycle from my mother's garage to the garage where we were living. My landlord, Peter, helped me remove the engine from the old frame and place it in the new one. I began assembling the rest of the motorcycle using an ordered list that I had made during disassembly as a guide, starting at the bottom and working toward the top. Slowly, piece by piece, the bike began to take shape. I removed the SAS (secondary air system) equipment and placed engine block-off plates over the openings in the cylinders left bare from the removal. When I finally had all of the pieces mounted and all of the nuts and bolts accounted for, I placed a charger on the battery, filled the bike with its necessary fluids, and prepared to start it up. The removal of the SAS equipment causes an error that prevents that starting of the motorcycle, so I purchased a communication cable and connected my laptop to the bike's ECU (computer) and disabled the SAS equipment check, effectively disabling the error that prevented starting. It was ready to be started up. I was a bit nervous. After several laboured attempts to start, the bike fired up. She sounded beautiful.

The rebuild, other than a few snags, went smoothly and took place over the course of three or four weekends. Going through the process of rebuilding the motorcycle allowed me to become intimately familiar with the bike, and it made the work I had previously done on the bike seem much easier. It also gave me the knowledge and confidence to be able to tackle almost any repair necessary in the future. When the day comes that I do a compete engine rebuild, I'll almost be able to call myself a real mechanic.


The Accident
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All of the nuts and bolts from the bike were meticulously labeled and placed into sealable baggies. Many photos were taken in various states of disassembly, and diagrams noting relative locations of parts and the routing of hoses, wires and cables.
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With some help from my landlord, Peter, the engine was lifted from the original frame.
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The old frame and the new one
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The engine, swing-arm and rear mono-shock were the first parts placed onto the new frame.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Other than the pesky foot-peg springs, the wire and cable routing was the most challenging part of the rebuilt, as was expected.
http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Piece by piece, the skeleton of a bike started to look like a real, live motorcycle.
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Back from the pits of despair, Almeida came back to life. Here she stands (leans) in all her glory.
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Preparing To Leave
 

Autumn of 2012 - June 9, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It took over four months for the motorcycle to arrive. That ruined any plans to leave that summer. Rocky was eager to start the repairs and fortunately we were offered a place to fix the bike at Dual Sport Plus. It's a local motorcycle shop owned by Les. Him and his staff were extremely helpful. Rocky assessed the damage and began ordering parts. I am amazed that he was able to completely take the bike apart and put her back together. He even got her running better than before. As soon as the bike was completed, we were able to place much more focus on preparing to leave. My first step was to get back on the motorcycle. I hadn't been on the bike since the accident and I felt nervous. It wasn't so bad. I was surprisingly comfortable and I was able to thoroughly enjoy the ride.

After a lot of organizing we were finally able to start packing. One would think it would be easier the second time around. But, now that I know what to expect, I caught myself over packing. It is difficult to travel with the bare minimum. Traveling through different climates definitely doesn't help. If I had forgotten anything, I could always pick it up along the way. I'll just have a heck of a time finding room for it though. Maybe I could find room for just one pair of my favorite high heels!

I definitely went through some mixed emotions. I felt excited, nervous, sad, happy. A shrink would have fun diagnosing my current state. My poor mom was in denial. She refused to acknowledge we were leaving. My brother was having dreams that I had changed my mind. I just wish that my cats could've spoke just once to tell me that they forgive me and they'll be waiting for our safe return. I have been so fortunate to have so many amazing people in my life but it makes it so much tougher to leave their side.

We will miss everyone. I am sure that I will cry and so will Rocky. Only he will pretend that a bug got in his eye.


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Shortly after moving into our apartment, our landlords, Peter & Haarika, had a baby boy named Kushal.
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Nikita, Haarika's daughter, & her baby brother, Kushal
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Paula and I drove to Toronto to see Romi Mayes (pictured here) and Jay Nowicki. We first met both of them while couch-surfing in Medicine, Hat Alberta. Romi was awarded Song Writer of the Year and Album of the Year at the 2007 Western Canadian Music Awards. "Mayes' style has been described as edgy, bourbon-infused country blues and bluegrass, characterized by sympathy and honesty." -- Wikipedia
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Romi & Jay rocking out the Dakota Tavern, in Toronto, Ontario.
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Paula, Giovanni & Grace dressed up for Hallowe'en
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Paula dressed up for Hallowe'en as a belly dancer, only to be told several times that she was actually Jasmine from the Disney animated movie, Aladdin.
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Princess Jasmine
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Paula & her friend, Grace - Grace is a paralegal and one of the most well-read and knowledgable people I know. She also like to talk a LOT.
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Paula and I spent New Years eve at Hess Village, in downtown Hamilton.
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New Year's Eve
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Happy New Year!
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Paula on New Year's Eve
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Paula & I on New Year's Eve
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Belle
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My grandmother lived to the ripe, old age of 94. She was only a few months away from her 95th birthday when she passed away in 2009. I use to visit her on weekends and she always baked me delicious pies - apple, peach, berry, custard... After the new year, I decided to take up baking. This triple-berry pie was my second attempt. It was delicious (if I do say so myself).
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On March 15th, my niece, Maddy, turned four years old.
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During the almost year and a half back home, I was able to see my favourite band, Sigur Rós, twice. - photo by Balzz
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Paula's niece, Josephine, turned five years old in April. Paula's sister and brother-in-law, Maryline and Dennis, have four children in total.
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Paula's niece, Madison, is one of twins.
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Sophia is the other half of the set of twins.
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In April, Paula's friend, Catherine, had a baby girl named Avielle.
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Paula's mother, Lucilia, hibernates in winter, but, at the first sign of spring, she is out all day working in her garden. She has one of the best gardens I have ever seen, full of plants, flowers, herbs and vegetables. She also makes amazing chicken wings.http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

On The Road Again
 

June 9, 2013 - June 16, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We left a week and a day late but it was nice to have a little extra time with everyone. We had everything packed at Rocky's moms house but we spent the night at my moms. I tried to cuddle my cats as much as possible before leaving the next morning. Saying goodbye was obviously tough, I cried. My mom wasn't about to make it easier on us. She tried a few guilt trips, hoping I would change my mind, but her and I giggled at the attempt. My brother, Mike, drove us around the corner to Rocky's mothers house. Rocky's brother Jay was there with his wife Andrea and their daughter Mady. My best friend Greg showed up with his girlfriend Eden, and our friend Peter, who lives next door to Diana (Rocky's mom) was also there with his two children. I cried, again. We left there and headed towards my sister, Maryline's house. Her husband Dennis and their four children, Lucas, Josephine, Madison and Sofia were all there. I was glad that my tear ducts were completely drained, otherwise I would have bawled. I'm going to miss everybody.


Our next destination was Tobermory, Ontario, a really cute town with an unspoiled countryside. It is known for its relaxed pace of life and fresh water scuba diving. There are numerous shipwrecks that lie in the surrounding waters, but we stayed on land. After splitting an order of delicious, fresh White fish and chips and clam chowder soup, Rocky and I rode around in search of a place to camp. We found the perfect spot by the water, next to a historic lighthouse. Just before we began unloading the bike, we met a guy named Ivan. He mentioned that he was also from Hamilton, Ontario. He lives in Tobermory with his girlfriend and pet dog and works as an engineer on the Chi-Cheemaun ferry.


We woke up early the next morning but it was a bit chilly and I didn't want to get out of the sleeping bag. Rocky warned me to get up because it would rain, I should've listened. We got a bit wet packing up the gear and loading up the bike. We were going to take the Chi-Cheemaun ferry. It traverses Lake Huron from Tobermory to Manitoulin Island. $51.50 was a bit expensive but it was an hour and a half journey and I'm not a good swimmer. While waiting to dock, we met a young man named Marty, who was from Austrailia and also touring on a motorcycle. He flew to British Columbia and took a train to Toronto, where he bought a Kawasaki. He is also heading to Eastern Canada and I wonder if we'll bump into him again along the way. Ivan, the engineer on the ferry, found us and offered us a tour. I don't know much about boats but I found it really interesting to look at. He took us through the engine room, all the control rooms, along with the bridge, where the captain was. I felt like I was on a really awesome school trip.


As soon as we reached Manitoulin Island, it was raining pretty hard. We rode at least 5km up the rode and stopped at a Home Hardware store for refuge. We were soaked. The rain didn't seem like it was about to stop, so we decided to ride a couple of kilometers up to a restaurant. We found a great little place called Musky Widows where we met Matthew, the owner. After a hot meal and a few cups of coffee, it was still pouring rain outside. Matthew mentioned an abandoned barn a few minutes away and said he would take us there if we were interested. We were excited to sleep under a shelter.


We peeked into the barn where we were prepared to stay until Matthew mentioned the Hanger a few meters away. We chose the Hanger instead. It was easier to unpack all of our things and bring the motorcycle inside. We kept the large doors open to watch the storm. Our belongings didn't dry well because of the moisture in the air but at least they didn't get any worse. It ended up raining all night. Although I enjoyed sleeping there, I have to admit I was a bit scared. Raindrops and every other small sound echoed loudly. It got a little bit scary in the complete darkness.

We took our time getting out if bed in the morning. Once we packed, we took a ride back to Musky Widows for breakfast. We left the small town of Manitowaning and headed towards Sudbury, Ontario. It was getting late and we almost settled for a place to camp. I'm glad we kept searching because we found the most perfect location. Ramsey Lake is extremely pretty and surprisingly quiet. We walked across large rocks were we found a patch of grass just big enough to fit our tent. It was simply a perfect place to be.


Our plan was to go visit Rocky's dad. He recently moved to Cobalt, Ontario. The ride was only a couple of hours from Sudbury, Ontario, and it rained on us the last hour. At least this times we were prepared. We pulled over to put on our rain liners just before the rain came down. Cobalt is a small town with a population of 1500. Known as Silver City, it is the Silver Capital of Canada. The only other thing that could be said for Cobalt, Ontario is, it had delicious tap water. Conrad, Rocky's dad, is in his 70's and looking for love, ladies. He is a really nice guy with a funny vocabulary. He uses words like gee willikers, gosh golly and darn tootin. When he addresses me, he either calls me Sis or Salami. He is hilarious. Even when he is sleeping, he is funny. We've caught him talking in his sleep. He has full conversations.

We were there a few nights and decided not to leave until Fathers Day. It was tough saying goodbye but we got everything prepared for Conrad to get his passport. Since he is a French Canadian we assume France would be an easy sell. We would love for him to visit us in France.


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After a year and a half of being back home, working, saving and rebuilding the motorcycle, we set back out on the road. We left Hamilton on June 9th and headed north.
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Our second day on the road, we crossed over to Manitoulin Island on the ferry from Tobermory. The crossing took about two hours and cost $50 for the motorcycle and two riders.
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While waiting for the ferry, we met Marty. Marty is from Australia and purchased a motorcycle in Toronto to ride across Canada.
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The night before taking the ferry, we met Ivan. Ivan mentioned that he was the lead engineer on the ferry to Manitoulin Island, called the MS Chi-Cheemaun. He told us to find him onboard and he'd take us on a tour around the vessel.
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Shortly after arriving on Manitoulin Island, a torrential downpour also arrived. Paula and I found a restaurant in a nearby town to hang out and dry out our soaked gear. Matthew, the owner of the restaurant, called Musky Widows, offered to take us to an abandoned farm where we could spend the night out of the rain.
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The farm had an old barn and a hanger, where we decided to set up our tent.
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The rain poured down throughout the entire night, pinging the metal of the hanger roof until morning.
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Morning came and the sun finally broke through the clouds as the sky cleared up.
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We spent the next night in Sudbury, Ontario. One of the best parts of traveling the way we do is trying to find a spot to camp for the night. With the sun going down, we found this perfect little spot on the edge of Ramsey Lake.
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Ramsey Lake
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Our next stop was Colbalt, Ontario, where my father had recently moved after separating from his wife.
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The last time I had seen my father was almost two years prior, during the first part of our trip. He had aged noticeably since, but hadn't lost is lively spirit, despite battling bouts of depression over the break-up of his marriage.
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We met "King Ross" at a Tim Horton coffee shop in the nearby town of New Liskeard. I don't know whether he was the craziest or one of the most intelligent people I have met, but he certainly was entertaining and interesting to talk to.
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My father's diet consisted of beer and cigarettes (though he didn't inhale). He woke up one morning and got a beer from the fridge at seven in the morning. I mentioned that there was already a freshly-opened beer on the table. He thought it was mine, as though everyone had a beer first thing in the morning.
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After a four-day visit with my father, we left Colbalt and headed towards Montreal. While with my dad, we applied for a passport for him and made tentative plans to meet him somewhere in the world, maybe Paris, France.
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Québec
 

June 17, 2013 - June 23, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The sky was threatening to rain when we left Cobalt, but we only got spit on. We rode all day until we were ready to find a place to camp. Pembroke, Ontario had a good flat field next to a school and we decided to spend the night there. I tried to set up the tent quickly because I was getting attacked by mosquitos, but they were about to quickly disappear anyway. Just as the sky became black, lightning began brightening up the sky. Thunder followed, causing the earth to shake beneath us. It was very exciting to be in the tent as the storm traveled past us.

Early the next morning, we continued riding until we reached Baie-d'Urfe, Québec. We were going there to visit Alex, who we had previously met while traveling in Mexico and Guatemala. He had also stayed with us as he traveled through Hamilton. Alex just purchased a motorcycle and made plans with Rocky to join us on our trip through eastern Canada. I like to hope that we inspired him to travel by motorcycle but I think he decide to do so because he couldn't turn down a $400 motorcycle.

Baie-d'Urfe is a beautiful suburb of Montreal. Alex was currently living there with his father, Patrick. Patrick is a great guy and cook. He treated us to a delicious duck dinner our first night there. After a few bottles of wine, the conversation somehow turned to health insurance. I learned that, although we have health care in Canada (OHIP - Ontario Health Insurance Plan), we needed to request an extension (for a maximum of 2 years) if we were planning on being absent from the country for more than seven months. If we didn’t, our OHIP coverage would expire, and we would be denied medical treatment upon our return to Canada. The following day, we turned around and rode 45 minutes back into Ontario to apply for the extension. Before heading back to Alex's, we stopped in Montreal for a few last minute necessities. Montreal is a great city. We were unable to take advantage of the awesome nightlife or shopping but we were still able to peek at all the beautiful people. Montreal is known for its lovely looking ladies.


After spending a couple of nights in the suburb of Montreal, Alex, Rocky and I packed up and hit the road. As we followed Alex through the thick traffic in Montreal, I began questioning if he was ready for the road. Alex is a great guy and he's very smart, but he is in his early twenties and he just got his motorcycle license. We were trying to follow his lead but he was weaving in and out of lanes, squeezing through places we wouldn't be able to follow. I was glad when we were finally able to get out of the city.



We contacted couple, Katie and Raymond, on couchsurfing.org and planned on staying at their house for a couple of days. They live with their cute dog, Complain (which means companion in French), in a suburb called Sainte-Redempteur (Levis), on the south shore of Quebec. It was pretty late when we had arrived, so we didn't do much until the following day. Raymond is in the Military, Katie is a Veterinarian, and both of them were gone for the day. Alex, Rocky and I, decided to take a bus to Québec City for the day and Katie said that she would meet us out for drinks once her shift was over.


Québec City is one of the prettiest cities I've seen. It is full of culture and character. More than 90% of Québécois (the people of Québec) speak French as their first language. I was warned that many of them weren't pleasant towards English-speaking people, but I never did experience that. It is often said that the people in Québec are very arrogant and rude because they want to be separated from Canada because they are different. The central cultural argument of those who wish to separate is that only sovereignty can adequately ensure the survival of the French language in North America, allowing Québécois to establish their nationality, preserve their culture identity, and keep their collective memory alive. I personally love that Canada has its unique twist of cultures.

After spending the day exploring the streets of Québec City, we decided to meet up with Katie and a few of her friends. A large street party was happening and we were ready to have fun! Quebec city knows how to throw a good party and Katie and her friends know how to have a great time. I didn't drink too much but I'm glad I wasn't hung-over the next morning. We had a long day of driving as we got back on the road.

The ride from the city up along the coast of the St. Lawrence River was really beautiful. By the end of the day, we all imagined that sleeping by the coast would be ideal. As we rode around searching for a place to set up camp for the night, Alex followed behind. Rocky signaled to make a left hand turn, and just before we had fully crossed the street, Alex cut us off and almost crashed into us at a very high speed. I don't fully understand Alex's perspective of what had happened but I do know that it was a mistake he didn't make intentionally. It is just hard to ignore something that could've put an end to our trip, or even our lives.


We pitched our tents on the shore of the St. Lawrence River along the coastal Highway 132. It was a great place to gather our thoughts as we enjoyed the view. Early the next morning, we headed towards Gaspé, Québec. After a few incidents, we all realized the difficulty in riding together. Alex continued in his own direction without us. Rocky and I remained in Gaspé and found an abandoned house to set up camp in the backyard. I love camping but I've been getting eaten alive. Mosquitos bites annoy me but black flies are attacking me, biting me repeatedly, taking small chunks of my skin and leaving me bloody, bruised and intensely itchy. It is tough being delicious. ;)

Not far from where we slept was a small city near the tip of the Gaspé Peninsula, called Percé. We decided to stop there on our way to New Brunswick, Canada. Percé is mainly a tourist town particularly well known for the attractions of the Percé Rock, translated to English as the pierced rock. It is one of the world's largest natural arches located in water. Percé is known as one of the most beautiful villages of Québec. It was a perfect location to remind us of the beauty of Québec before leaving the province to visit New Brunswick for the first time!


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We arrived in Baie-d'Urfe, a suburb of Montreal, on June 17th where our friend, Alex, lives with his father, Patrick. We first met Alex while traveling in Mexico, and later randomly saw him hitchhiking at the side of the road in Guatemala. After arriving in Baie-d'Urfe, Patrick cooked us all a delicious duck dinner.
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The next day we were invited by Patrick, who is an avid sailor, to the local sailing club for dinner.
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Twinsies - Paula and I are often made fun of because, while traveling, we look the same since both wear blue jeans and the exact same hoodie. We don't mind so much since we wouldn't give up the best sweater either of us have ever worn. At $135 it's a bit pricey, but worth every penny. p.s. - MEC sponsorship is welcomed - call us.
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Alex's father, Patrick, is also a motorcycle rider. He is also a bit of a workaholic, but planned on meeting up with us for part of our trip through the eastern part of Canada.
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After several days at Alex's, Paula, Alex and I set out on the road. Our first destination was Québec City. A food that was popularized in Québec is Poutine - french fried potatoes topped with gravy and cheese curds.
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The three of us spent the day walking around beautiful Québec City, situated alongside the St. Lawrence River.
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Historic Québec City
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The three of us had planned on meeting Katie, our couch-surfing host, later that evening. The streets were being readied for a large street party that was taking place that evening, and we had planned on meeting up with Katie and a few of her friends.
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With some time to kill, Paula, Alex and I walked over to the park to relax and to take a nap in the warm sun.
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Alex & Paula In Quebec City
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In need of our daily coffee fix, we searched for a Tim Hortons coffee shop, but, unable to find one, we had to settle for Starbucks. Later that day, we stumbled across a Tim Hortons that didn't appear on my GPS. Tim Hortons quality has suffered a decline in recent years, but it was still our go-to coffee shop for its selection and price. The chain also originated in our home town of Hamilton, Ontario.
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Our couch-surfing host, Katie, was a veteranarian, and, after a long day of work, we met up with her at the street party. Earlier that day, Katie had performed surgery on a dog. There were complications during the surgery, and the animal didn't make it through. Already saddened by the turn of events, Katie had to deal with the devastated owner of the pet who blamed her for what had happened. We tried to cheer her up with a few beers.
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We met several of Katie's crazy friends.
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While at Alex's house in Baie-d'Urfe, Patrick introduced us to a type of honey wine. We liked it so much that we decided to stop along the way at the Vieux Moulin, located along highway 132 in Québec, where the wine is produced. Since we couldn't carry a lot on the bike, we only bought one bottle of wine, but would like to have stocked up on a lot of their delicious goods, which range from different kinds of wines to various types of honey, honey-filled chocolates and other honey-based products.
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Following the southern shore of the St. Lawrence river and up to The Gulf of The St. Lawrence, the ride along Québec's Route 132 was beautiful. It was spotted with small fishing villages, hills, mountains, cliffs and waterfalls. We were surprised not to have heard anything about it before.
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Alex Along Route 132
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The day before, while looking for a spot to camp, we were almost in an accident with Alex. We're not certain exactly what happened, but, for whatever reason, Alex didn't leave enough space while following to notice that we were making a left turn. We narrowly missed hitting each other at a high rate of speed. The stress of riding together got to both of us, and we both decided that it might be better if we split off on our own.
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Later that evening, Paula and I looked for a place to set up camp. We found an abandoned house in the town of Gaspé that seemed perfect. We waited until dusk and spent the night in the yard behind the house. We packed up in the morning, had some breakfast and headed on.
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Our next destination was the small, tourist town of Percé, Québec. Percé is known for the Percé Rock, one of the world's largest natural arches located in water.
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Paula at Percé
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I found a gravel road on my GPS that appeared to ascend the hill overlooking the town of Percé. We rode up a steep gravel road and found a lookout that gave a great view of Percé.
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After leaving Percé, Paula and I headed on towards New Brunswick. We had spent almost a week in the province of Québec, but could easily have spent much more time there.
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The Maritimes
 

June 23, 2013 - July 5, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It became obvious when we had entered New Brunswick because most of the street signs were also written in English. Campbellton, New Brunswick is situated on the south bank of the Restigouche River opposite Pointe-a-la-Croix, Quebec. We found a perfect spot to camp, located on the top of a hill, overlooking both coasts. Eastern Canada has no shortage of great spots to camp.


I contacted a guy, named Ryan, on couchsurfing.org and he welcomed us to stay with him in a small suburb of Moncton, New Brunswick. The Petitcodic River separates Riverview, New Brunswick from Moncton. In the late 1960's, a controversial rock-and-earth fill causeway was build between Moncton and Riverview to prevent agricultural flooding and to carry a crossing between the two communities. Before the construction of this causeway, the river had one of the largest tidal bores, which ranged 1-2 meters in height and moved at 5-3 km per hour. Ryan's backyard had a beautiful view of this chocolate coloured river.

The day after arriving in Riverview, Rocky and I made a coffee run in the morning while Ryan was at work meetings. About 300 meters from us returning to the house, the motorcycle lost all power and Rocky had to push it the rest of the way. After spending some time problem solving through the electrical, Rocky noticed that the exhaust had melted some wires. We were lucky to have been such a short distance away with a nice large garage to do the repairs.

Ryan is a charming character with an abundant storage of information. As the CEO/owner of Chatham Biotec and Mega Chaga, his background is in innovative forestry products. He lives with his dog Mocha, a pretty Shepard/Boxer mix. The four of us took a ride down to Caladonia Gorge, a protected natural area. We hiked through the forest until we reached a creek. The water squeezed and crashed down through a narrow slot, it's wake churning into a deep cold pool.


Ryan told us we'd be swimming at Crooked Creek, so I came prepared with my bathing suit. Although, I didn't come prepared to jump off a cliff into the water. I'm such a chicken. It took me quite a few minutes to mentally prepare for my pathetic attempt of a jump. But, I did it, and after I did, I realized that in order to get out of the cold water, I was going to have to climb up the cliff I had just jumped off of. Ryan made fun of me. He said that I was hugging the cliff all the way up, holding on for dear life. I'm such a coward.

Spending a few days at Ryan's was a lot of fun, but we needed to get back on the road to maintain some sort of schedule. We were on our way to discover Nova Scotia. Rocky's friend Kathy, who he had lived with in Taiwan, now lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia, with her husband Ryan. The both of them live with a few roommates in North Halifax, a great area named The Hydrostone. The moment we arrived, Kathy greeted us outside and embraced me with a big hug.


As I began unpacking the motorcycle, Rocky noticed a hissing sound coming from the front tire. It had a strange hole on the wheel wall where the air was escaping but after removing the tire, no hole was found on the inner tube. The tire was placed back on and seemed OK but we weren't comfortable keeping it. We had planned on getting a new rear tire because ours was low on thread but we then decided that a new front tire was also necessary. Although the front tire was fairly new, it was the same tire used when we were in our accident. Rocky and I agreed that there was a good possibility that the tire was unsafe and should be replaced.

We had planned to spend the long weekend with Kathy and Ryan. Ryan is in a band called Three Sheet and was booked to perform at a few venues throughout Nova Scotia. Ryan also owns a motorcycle and had the weather been better, the four of us would have gone on a great little camping road trip. Instead, Ryan went by van with his band members because the weather called for heavy rain all weekend. Rocky and I couldn't do much but wait for the sky to clear up. After relaxing all weekend, we finally decided to take our chances against Mother Nature and our faulty tire. We took a short road trip to Peggy's Cove and it was well worth it. The rain had stopped for a short moment and the scenery was incredible. It was definitely one of the prettiest coasts I have ever seen.


The following day remained somewhat dry as well. Rocky and I rode to the motorcycle shop to pick up our tires because they had finally arrived. Without any other choice, I placed each arm through a tire and held on tight as I sat on the back of the bike. We rode from the shop for just under one minute before lights began flashing behind us. We were being pulled over by an undercover cop. He asked us where we were going and said that carrying the tires wasn't the safest idea, we could get charged. He then asked for the tires, said that he would place them in his car and he would follow us to where we were going. Amazing! I laughed the entire ride. Especially at the thought of the paranoia Rocky must have felt from a cop following behind him for 20 minutes. Once we arrived at Kathy's home, we enjoyed a good chuckle with him. We exchanged info and he told us to call him if we had any troubles. In case you are reading our blog, Mr. Detective/Constable Upshaw, we did not inhale. ;)

Rocky and I spent a while changing both tires. With the bike ready, we were excited to get back on the road. It had almost been a full week spent with Kathy, Ryan, their roommates Andrea and Adrienne and the household dog, Jetson. The night before we planned to leave, Jordie Lane, an amazing musician from Australia, came to stay at the house with his beautiful girlfriend Clare. Although it was nice to relax and spend time in such an interesting household, we said our goodbyes and got back on the road the following morning. It was too bad that we didn't stick around to watch Jordie on stage. He is extremely talented.


Our next destination was Cape Breton Island. Although it is physically separated from the Nova Scotia peninsula by the Strait of Canso, it is artificially connected by a rock-fill Canso Causeway. We rode until we found a place to camp in a field near an industrial section of Port Hawkesbury. Just as I was setting up the tent, I began to realize that we were in the center of millions of Mosquitos. I tried to hurry but it was futile, I felt as though I was getting eaten alive. I was happy once we were in the tent, but I still spent a long time killing the mosquitos that snuck there way in. I don't like to kill anything but I felt no guilt as hundreds of them pressed against the mesh to watch the bloody massacre.

Located in Cape Breton, the Cabot Trail is considered one of the world’s most scenic drives. It truly was gorgeous. After riding for most of the day Rocky pulled over for a bathroom break. A gravel driveway led us to an outhouse but to our surprise, it also led us to a beautiful place named Neil's Harbour. A small river found its way into a larger body of water. A few meters away was a sandbank that separated the freshwater from the ocean. We set up our tent in the small, designated picnic area along side of the Harbour and listened to the ocean waves crash against the opposite shore. I didn't imagine it could get any better until some of the locals lit up some fireworks visible from where we camped. When the fireworks were over, the black sky was filled with billions of stars. It was a perfect place to admire.

We packed everything up the next morning and headed towards Sydney, Nova Scotia. We camped in a large field and planned on taking The MV Blue Puttees Ferry to Newfoundland the following afternoon. Everyone kept saying how amazing Newfoundland is, but I get really seasick and was not looking forward to the long Ferry ride.



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We left the province of Québec and crossed into New Brunswick on June 23rd. Entering the town of Campbellton, we rode around and found a spot to camp next to a radio tower, atop a hile overlooking the town.
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We awoke the next morning, packed up and headed for the city of Moncton.
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We had contacted a guy on couch-surfing, named Ryan, and he agreed to host us in the town of Riverside, a suburb of Moncton.
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Ryan took us to a great spot off the beaten path, called Crooked Creek.
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The three of us took turns jumping into the river from the rocks on the bank. The water was cold.
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Ryan's best friend was Mocha, his pet dog.
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Ryan, Mocha & Paula
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On June 27th, we said goodbye to Ryan and headed for Halifax, Nova Scotia. My friend, Kathy, whom I had met ten years earlier while living and working in Taiwan, was now living with her fiencé, Ryan, in Halifax. They had invited us to come and stay with them as we passed through the area.
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Paula and I endured a long stretch of rainy whether when we arrived in Halifax. We had ordered and were waiting for two new tires to arrive, so we hadn't planned on doing much travel anyway. Ryan is a musician in a band called Three Sheet. They had several gigs on the Canada Day long weekend. Kathy decided to tag along with them.
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Ten years prior, I had lived with Kathy in an apartment with many other roommates. Kathy and I quickly became good friends.
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On Canada Day, the skies finally cleared up and Paula and I decided to ride out to Peggy's Cove. Peggy's Cove is a small fishing village 45 minutes outside of Halifax.
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Peggy's Cove Lighthouse
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Peggy's Cove
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Paula At Peggy's Cove
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Adrienne was one of Kathy's roommates. She was the best friend to Jetson, the household dog. Adrienne planned on traveling to New Zealand and invited us to come stay with her if we made it that far.
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We left Halifax on July 3rd and headed north, towards Cape Breton Island. The following day we rode along the world-famous Cabot Trail. The drive was certainly beautiful. We had heard so much about it that our expectations were set very high. It was a stunning ride, but it was a short ride, and Paula and I both agreed that we preferred the ride along Route 132 in Québec much better.
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Somewhere Along The Cabot Trail
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We decided to head off the main road along the northern tip of Cape Breton Island. It was a nice detour that lead to some great scenery.
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Cape Breton Island
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Nearing the end of the day, we found a great rest stop on the outskirts of Neil's Harbour. It had a beautiful stream and a fresh-water lake that was separated from the sea by a small strip of beach. We knew we had to camp there for the night, so, we waited until dusk, after the park ranger made his last round, and set up camp.
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While waiting for the sun to go down, we took a dip in the lake to wash off. We headed out the next day for North Sydney, Nova Scotia, where we had planned on boarding the ferry to Newfoundland.
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Newfoundland
 

July 6, 2013 - July 16, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg Over five hours on the ferry and I didn't get sea sick! Either the small patch behind my ear worked or the ocean was calm enough not to make me feel queasy. We finally arrived in Newfoundland and it didn't take long to notice people spoke very differently on the island known as The Rock. We also quickly learned to pronounce Newfoundland as the locals call it, New-Fun-Land. The ferry docked in Port Aux Basque, a tiny town that took us just minutes to ride around. We were in search of a bite to eat and our options were limited. We surprisingly ate a Subway sandwich. It has been well over a year since I've been able to stomache even the smell, but it actually tasted delicious. I'm not about to eat one (or two) every day like we had on our last trip, but I'll definitely enjoy one every now and then.

It was late in the day by the time we were ready to search for a place to set up the tent. Even though there was enough sunshine still out, we were warned by many to keep off the roads during dusk to avoid hitting moose. There is a large population of moose living in Newfoundland. We decided to stay near Port Aux Basque for the night and it didn't take long to find a great place to camp. Newfoundland once had a railroad that traveled across the entire province. Since it was no longer in service, a gravel path is left where its tracks once were. Locals find this useful to ride their off-road-vehicles on. It seemed like everyone owns an ATV or a skidoo.

We rode for a few minutes down the gravel road until we reached a wooden deck just big enough for our tent. It was perfect. We unpacked as quickly as possible so that we could admire the incredible panoramic view before it got dark. It didn't matter what direction we looked, the view around us was breathtaking. As the sun began to set and we both just stared in awe. It was one of the prettiest moments I had ever experienced. We were speechless. Early the next morning, we continued down the gravel road until it became sand and knocked us over. It was a gentle drop and we got up easily but the sand got deeper as we continued, and we eventually got stuck. Half of the rear tire was buried and moving the motorcycle felt impossible. Rocky and I removed our bags and the panniers as two kind strangers offered to help push the bike out. Riding through off-roads always seems to be a crazy adventure but it was well worth the view we witnessed. As we pulled onto the highway, we learned that we had just spent the night in JT Cheeseman Provincial Park.

After a beautiful but windy ride, we arrived in Corner Brook, a small city on the western side of Newfoundland. We sat in a parking lot next to a park waiting for the sun to set because we planned on setting up the tent somewhere nearby. As we waited, we were approached by a man named Delano. He was riding a Kawasaki KLR and asked a few questions about our KTM. We shared a few words, and shortly after he left he returned to tell us of a really great place to check out. We followed him up a hill to an area named Cooks Lookout. The site was used by Captain James Cook as he kept an eye out for smugglers and privateers from 1763-1767 when he charted the coast. It offered a fantastic view of the Gulf of the Saint Lawrence. After a short walk around, we came to a memorial monument boat, built of stone. It was the perfect size to fit our tent and motorcycle. It seemed like the perfect place to set up our tent.


The following morning, we decided to stay in Corner Brook. We stopped at the local YMCA for a shower and enjoyed the rest of the day laying under the sun at a local park. Since we really loved where we had camped the night before, we decided to spend another night in the boat. Even though it was a popular place to visit, the locals were very friendly about us being there. Some even complimented the idea of camping there. Early the next morning as we were packing up the tent, we were approached by a man on his morning walk. He spoke with us for a few minutes and invited us to his house for breakfast and a shower. There was no way that we could possibly say no. I love meeting kind strangers. We finished packing and met with Dennis at his house. While sitting on his back porch, we enjoyed a great view of the city. He made us coffee and brought out bowls of fruit, including a fruit we had never tasted. Cloud berries, also known as Bake Apples, are an orange looking blackberry with a tart taste to them. After freshening up, filling our bellies and sharing some stories, we exchanged hugs and he wished us well on our journey. What a great, friendly city.


We got back on the road and planned on going to Gros Mourne National Park where we would pay to camp in a campground. We usually don't pay for camping because we can't justify paying $30 to sleep on the earth and also because we can't afford to, but it was a special occasion. Rocky had never tried a hallucinogen and I found us some magic mushrooms before we left home. Unfortunately, they weren't as strong as they should've been but it was enough to heighten our senses. During an evening walk past another picture perfect scene, we ate the 'shrooms and eventually made our way back to our campsite. We gathered the wood to build a fire and lit up a joint. It was really dark and it took me a second to notice that there was a man standing beside us. Initially I was startled. He appeared out of the darkness and, once my eyes properly focused, I realized that he was the park ranger. I looked at Rocky to warn him but he was busy smoking the joint and that made me want to laugh. Suddenly, the park ranger began to speak and I could barely contain myself. Apparently, I can't understand anything Newfoundlanders say. It is English I assume, but I began to understand why they are called 'funny talkers'. To make matters funnier, the park ranger stood there talking to us long enough for us to wonder if we were supposed to offer him a few puffs. Rocky and I laughed for a while after he had gone.

The next day we prepared to go on a hike. I've been on many hikes before. I thought I knew what to expect but Rocky decided to create his own path that day. He wanted to climb to the top of a mountain but we had to walk through thick dry brush. I like to be adventurous but I was wearing knickers, I had just shaved my legs and moisturized. I bitched and complained the entire climb up that mountain. Once we reached the top, I realized it was worth every scratch. The view was incredibly beautiful and we even found a lake up there. We laid on on the grass for a while (wink wink) with not a person in sight in all directions. Rocky took the opportunity to say something romantic, along the lines of "See...I told you so. Isn't this awesome? You should just trust me from now on."


When we returned to the campsite, we were charging our electronics under a large overhang and met a couple from New Brunswick. Martin and Cynthia were riding throughout Eastern Canada on a BMW. We exchanged stories over a bottle of wine they were sharing and Cynthia made me laugh to tears. We found out, weeks later, that Martin and Cynthia were related to Adrienne (their niece), who we stayed with in Halifax, Nova Scotia. What a small world! We hung out with them for a while and then Rocky and I headed back to our site for a nice big campfire to toast some marshmallows. I wish we could have a campfire everywhere we camp.


The next morning, we packed up all of our belongings so that we could continue traveling north. I wasn't feeling well and I wondered if I was experiencing an allergic reaction to black fly bites. I had over ten bites just on my neck and scalp and all of them were extremely swollen. After searching on-line, I am convinced that I had black fly fever. I felt weak, nauseous and feverish. We left Grose Mourne and rode for a few hours until we reached Hawkes Bay. Rocky was annoyed with the way the motorcycle was riding and wondered if the problem was coming from the wheel or if it was electrical. He said the the motorcycle has been riding weird for a couple of weeks, just after we spliced the electrical wires together or since we replaced the tires. We pulled over to investigate and Rocky noticed that the ABS sensor was slightly rubbing against the ABS grill. That could've been the cause of the surging and wobbling he was feeling, but everything was assembled properly. He couldn't figure out why it was scraping. As the sun began to set we decided it would be best to spend the night next to an abandoned office across the street where we had a perfect view of the Bay. We weren't the only ones to think it was a good spot to stop. The coast guard helicopter parked there as well.

We enjoyed a lazy morning and continued riding north towards Saint Anthony. It was a beautiful ride with the ocean to our left showing many shades of blue. Saint Anthony is a small town on the northern reaches of the Great Northern Peninsula of Newfoundland. We rode through until we reached the furthest tip of the town and decided that camping beside the lighthouse was a great spot. We were on a cliff top, high above the ocean with the view of icebergs in the far distance. It was a great place visually, but it was also intensely windy. But, then again, most of Newfoundland has been windy. Early the next morning Rocky took the bike apart as I packed everything. I knew he was stressing about what the problem could potentially be because he woke me up numerous times throughout the night saying "I wonder if it's...". As I packed up our things, I took a moment to look out at the ocean as I folded the tent and noticed a bunch of dolphins swimming past. That was probably the coolest thing I have ever waken up to. I was mesmerized, staring out into the distance.

After waiting a while for Rocky to work on the motorcycle, I warned him that I really had to pee. Rocky told me he would be a couple of hours and that I would have to find somewhere outside. What? Not only am I in a very open touristy area with no bush to hide behind, the morning sun shining bright and the wind blowing hard, it is difficult to be unnoticed especially if I was squatting with my pants around my ankles. There was no bathroom for a couple of kilometers and I hadn't peed in more than nine hours. I was upset that he couldn't have waited to take the motorcycle apart at a more convenient time and location. I must've looked annoyed because a man approached us and asked if everything was ok. I asked him if he knew of a nearby bathroom and he offered to drive me to one.


Richard was a sweet man (much sweeter than Rocky, hah!). He drove me down the street to his house and let me use his restroom. Before driving me back up the cliff, he stopped at a Tim Hortons and insisted on buying Rocky and I a coffee. Once we reached Rocky, Richard told him to put the motorcycle back together, just enough to be rideable down the cliff. We were invited to use his garage, take a shower and wash our laundry. He even offered us some jarred moose meat and drinks prepared with iceberg ice. The thought of drinking something that had been frozen for thousands of years just blows my mind!

With the bike taken apart, Rocky re-spliced a few wires with hopes that it would stop the surging. He also changed the spark plugs just in case that may have had something to do with it. And, in the process of all that, he discovered and fixed an oil leak. Rocky had worked on bike for hours as we all hung out in the garage. Richards brother Todd was visiting and many of their friends would stop by to say hello but I think Richard became concerned with me being bored. He invited to take me to the top of a cliff that offered the best view of St. Anthony where he shared a lot of the local history with me.

Shortly after arriving back at the house, Richard prepared dinner and invited us to join him and his beautiful wife for a meal. His wife Gay had just finished her day of work at the hospital and she was just as friendly as Richard. During a hot cup of coffee with our bowl of dessert, she told us stories of Saint Anthony and how there was once a Polar bear in her back yard. Ummm.... Polar bear? I never imagined Polar bears in Newfoundland. Supposedly, the Polar bears that visit the area are from the Davis Strait population (a strait lying between Greenland and Nunavut, Canada) which is estimated to occupy 1400 bears. They accompany the heavy pack-ice that occasionally drifts further to the south than normal during the spring break-up. Whoa! I would be super scared if I ever had a Polar bear roaming my yard.

With the bike fixed and ready, Richard suggested the route that we should take to return towards the ferry. But first he suggested that we pitch our tent in his yard or garage instead of searching for a place. After hearing that there was a Polar bear in their yard, the garage sounded like a lovely spot to sleep. Richard, his wife, Gay, and his brother, Todd, were a fine example of the hospitality in Newfoundland.

We were on our way through L'Anse Aux Meadows, the only confirmed Norse/Viking site in North America outside of Greenland. On our way there, we stopped for lunch and enjoyed a meal I have been anxious to have for a very, very long time. Fresh crab is my absolute favourite and there was no way I was about to reject the cheap price. With our tummies full, I was ready for sleep but it was still early. After all the work that Rocky had done on the motorcycle, he was still experiencing what he described as a feeling of surging and a wobble in the front tire. Rocky became obsessed with fixing this problem. He took the wheel off in the parking lot of the restaurant and still found no problem. Once we arrived in L'Anse aux Meadows at the most northern tip of Newfoundland, Rocky took apart the tire once more. People always gathered around to offer their help. As everyone exchanged ideas on the potential problem, I could see the frustration in Rocky's eyes, and then a hint of hope. When Rocky replaced the front rim, after the accident, he used the old spacer. Maybe, just maybe, the spacer was slightly smaller than the new one. He reached in his tool bag for the spare spacer and compared it to the old one he had installed, it was slightly different. That would definitely cause the abs sensor to rub against the plate! But would it cause the surging and the wobble?


Richard had told us of a place he called, the Salmon Hole. We planned on camping there for the night. The Underground Salmon Pool is where we witnessed an Atlantic salmon river, surfacing from an underground cave. Thousands of years of physical weathering and erosion to the limestone has formed an underground river and the continuous water flow has widened the river channel which has become a resting stop for the Salmon. It is the only known place in the world where Atlantic Salmon swim through underground river caves to get to their spawning grounds. I was having vivid thoughts of diving in and catching one with my bare hands. I even went as far as to wonder where I could find some soy sauce, ginger and wasabe. It's a good thing I had eaten all that crab earlier, otherwise, I'm not sure that I would have been able to control my urge. That could've been the best sashimi in my lifetime.

Our ride back south was windy, extremely windy. There were many moments that I thought we were going to blow over. It was early afternoon and as we were riding past Grose Mourne National Park for the last time, we pulled over so that we could hike one of the trails. It took us approximately 3 km there and back to complete and the last 10 minutes threatened rain. Luckily, we only felt a light mist as we rode south, away from the storm. After an expensive meal the day before, Rocky punished me with Subway. As we were eating, we were approached by a guy that politely asked to talk about our motorcycle. Troy was a true motorcycle enthusiast. When he spoke of the hundreds of bikes he had owned, he reminded me of John, our motorcycle guru, we had previously met in Calgary, Alberta. Troy was a really nice guy who shared many stories and was very interested in hearing ours as well. Just before leaving, Troy told us of a cottage he was building for his family. He said it was under construction but it had the most incredible view of a lake. We were given the address and were told where he kept the key hidden. He wasn't kidding, it definitely had the most incredible view of the lake. It was a beautiful place to spend the night.


On our way back south, Rocky pulled over to take the tire off once again. The surging and wobble still existed. This time, we decided to remove the rim strip. When we put the new tire on in Halifax, Nova Scotia, we applied rim tape to the tire because the rubber rim strip kept sliding to the side. After applying the tape, we kept the rubber stip over top of it because we thought if anything it would be added protection. Maybe the surging was caused by having them both on? We removed the rubber, left the tape and crossed our fingers. Nope, but at least the wobble in the wheel was gone!


We were sad at the thought of leaving Newfoundland. We made one last stop in Corner Brook to shower at the YMCA before riding to Port Aux Basque to catch the late night ferry. Newfoundland is such an incredible place. It is breathtaking at every corner, an absolutely stunning place to visit. When Rocky and I imagined this trip, we always talked about the beautiful landscapes we would see. But, throughout our adventure we are also constantly amazed by the beautiful characters we meet. Newfoundland is one of the friendliest places we have visited. We were greeted by everyone, if not with words or acts of kindness, we were greeted with big smiles. Everyday we were greeted by strangers. I have never met kinder, more caring people who are genuinely interested in at least saying hello. It was a very sad moment as we left The Rock.


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There are two ferry routes from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland - a short crossing that arrives in Port aux Basques and a much longer route that ports in the western part of Newfoundland in Argentia. We boarded the ferry, operated by Marine Atlantic, from North Sydney, Nova Scotia to Port Aux Basque, Newfoundland on July 6th. The crossing took roughly 6 hours and, for a motorcycle and two passengers with reserved seating (recommended), the cost was CA$165.22.
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After getting off the ferry in Newfoundland, I found a gravel road on my GPS just outside Port Aux Basque. I set it as our destination and this is where it lead us.
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We watched the sunset in awe and snapped photos. We were definitely thankful that we made the choice to visit Newfoundland.
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Our camping spot was a wooden deck just off the trail that was likely used by locals to gaze at the scenery as we did the night before.
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We packed up in the morning and continued down the gravel trail that, according to the GPS, looped around back to the main highway. Being near the ocean, the gravel path suddenly turned to patches on sand, and the bike went down. Paula and I picked her back up and continued along to the next, much bigger patch of sand that we got stuck in. A couple of locals passing by helped us dig the bike out of the sand, and we were able to make our way back to the main highway.
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Our next stop was the town of Corner Brook. After arriving, we met a local resident, named Delano, who rode a Kawasaki KLR and took us up to a hill that overlooked the entire town. With the skies darkening, we thought that the hill, called Captain Cook's Lookout, was a great spot to set up the tent and camp for the night, despite being a bit of a tourist attraction.
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Down a small walking path, we found a seating area made from slabs of rock. It seemed like a perfect spot to set the tent up. We woke the next morning and descended the hill into the town of Corner Brook.
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After our morning coffe at Tim Hortons, Paula and I visited the local YMCA and asked to use the shower since we were both in desperate need of one. After washing up and feeling refreshed, we spent the day at the park, relaxing in the warm sun.
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The view from Captain Cook's Lookout
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We liked our camping spot so much that we decided to spend another night there. The following morning, we met a local who passed by our tent on his morning walk. Dennis was his name, and, after a short conversation, he asked us if we wanted to go back to his place for breakfast and to get a shower. We were starting to get a good idea about the kindness and hospitality we were told to expect from the people of Newfoundland.
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Paula, Bob, Jeanette and Peanut - We met this couple at a rest stop while traveling through Gros Morne National Park. They were from Québec, and were traveling in their caravan with their dog, Peanut.
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While visiting Gros Morne National Park, we decided to stop at a paid camp site, which we rarely do. We just can't justify spending $25-$30 per night to sleep outside, especially since we usually find much more beautiful spots to camp out for free. Nevertheless, paying for a spot to camp allowed us to leave our gear and enjoy the surrounding areas. The day after arriving, Paula and I decided to go for a hike. I like to make my own path, so I took Paula on a hike up a mountain that most people don't climb. Paula rarely likes to get off the beaten path, so she followed me kicking and screaming the entire way up the hill. We reached the top of the mountain to discover a beautiful pond. Though she won't admit it, she then realized it was worth the climb.
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While camping in trout river, we met Martin and Cynthia. As we waited for our electronics to charge, we shared a bottle of wine and were later invited back to their camp site for a smoke. They definitely were not the snobby-types that you'd expect BMW GS riders to be.
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We left Trout River on July 11th, and headed north along the Viking Trail towards St. Anthony.
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Leaving Trout River, I stopped to snap a few photos of the awesome scenery. Paula wasn't feeling too well. She is very susceptible to bug bites, and she thought that she was suffering from a case of Black Fly Fever.
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The next day, we arrived at Fishing Point in St. Anthony.
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There is a traditional Viking Hut at Fishing Point in St. Anthony. It is a theme restaurant where viking reenactments are performed.
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Without a place to stay, we thought that, though it was a bit of a tourist location, we would camp out at Fishing Point and stay hidden behind the lighthouse. In the morning, it seemed that it was a spot where the locals came to drink their coffee and watch the sunrise.
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We had been experiencing problems with the motorcycle for a while. There was a jerkiness at certain range of RPMs, and I was experiencing head-shake (wobble in the handlebars). While starting to work on the bike ay Fishing Point in St. Anthony, a stranger, named Richard, offered us a place in his garage to work on the bike. Seeing that I was tired and hungry after many hours of work on the bike to fix an oil leak that we had discovered after tearing the bike down, Richard made us dinner and gave us a place to sleep for the night.
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While I worked on the motorcycle, Richard took Paula up to a hill that overlooked the town of St. Anthony.
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We camped out that evening in Richard's garage.
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We left the next morning and said goodbye to Richard.
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After saying goodbye to Richard, Paula and I left for L'Anse aux Meadows, on the northernmost tip of Newfoundland. "Discovered in 1960, it is the most famous site of a Norse or Viking settlement in North America outside of Greenland." -- Wikipedia
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Paula at L'Anse aux Meadows
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Burnt Cape Park Reserve
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The winds along the coast of Newfoundland are very strong. Stiff crosswinds prevented us from riding upright and forced us to lean into the wind.
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The Coast of Newfoundland
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Since before arriving in Newfoundland and all through Newfoundland we were told to be careful of all the moose. This was the only moose I had seen the entire time in Newfoundland.
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On our way back south, we decided to make the trek out to Western Brook.
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We met Troy on our last night spent in Newfoundland. We were eating at a Subway sandwich shop and he asked us if we'd be upset if he asked us about our motorcycle. Troy was a motorcycle lover who had owned over 200 different motorcycles in his life (according to him), and crashed many of them. As we were leaving, Troy offered us a place to stay for the night in his cottage, which was only 30 minutes away. He gave us the address and told us that the key was hidden under the stairs if we were interested in spending the night there. We were, and we did. The view of the lake and the sunset from his cottage were spectacular.
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Southern Newfoundland
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Leaving Newfoundland
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The ferry back to the mainland of Canada was booked, and we left Newfoundland on July 16th. Paula and I were both sad to be leaving this beautiful place.
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This time, we took the overnight ferry, which had been recommended by several people. After crossing through the night, neither Paula nor I would recommend it. It is very difficult to sleep on the ferry and having to ride in the morning after only a few hours of sleep wasn't too pleasant.http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...on-2e990wm.jpg

Leaving Canada
 

July 16, 2013 - July 24, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg The freezing cold, uncomfortable ferry ride back to mainland Canada was very depressing. We were wrong to assume that the night ride would provide us with any rest. We got off the ferry exhausted and thought it was best to pitch our tent under a few trees to the side of the road. After a few good hours of sleep, we rode to New Glasgow, Nova Scotia and spent the night by the East River of Pictou. We got up early the next morning and took a free ferry across to Prince Edward Island. It was a small, pretty province where every lawn and garden was perfectly manicured. Mostly farmland, Prince Edward Island is known for growing high quality potatoes. Over 88,000 acres of potatoes are grown each year, making it the largest potato-producing province in Canada. We immediately noticed that finding a place to camp for the night would be difficult because all of the land seemed owned. It was getting late and the sun was quickly dropping below the horizon, I began to doubt that we would find a place to camp. Just as I was beginning to really miss Newfoundland, we came across a picnic area. Confederation Trail is Prince Edward Islands abandoned railway line, it has been developed into a tip-to-tip trail. It was a great place to set up the tent. When we packed up our bags the next morning, we exited the island on a long bridge spanning the Abegweit Passage of the Northumberland Strait, linking Prince Edward Island with mainland New Brunswick. The 12.9 kilometer (8 mile) long bridge takes about 15 minutes to cross and it cost us $17.75. It was kind of scary riding on a two lane highway surrounded by water. It was so windy that I feared we would hit oncoming traffic or end up drowning! Rocky said he was constantly fighting the wind as it kept pushing us towards the oncoming traffic. I was glad to make it back into New Brunswick safely.


The last time we were in Moncton, New Brunswick, we had ordered a few parts. They had arrived at the shop and were waiting for us to pick them up. Toys for Big Boys is a large nice shop every man would love to spend some time and money in. Since Rocky continued to feel that something was still wrong with how the motorcycle was riding, he decided to get the front tire balanced to see if that was causing the problem. The process of elimination was annoying but at least it was fixing a bunch of little problems. To save a few dollars, Rocky removed the tire himself. Craig, an employee of Toys for Big Boys, kindly refused to charge us any money for balancing the tire. When the KTM mechanic approached us to make sure we didn't need anything else before he headed out for the day, Rocky told him about the surging and the mechanic tugged on the chain. He told us that a new one was needed, and that reminded Rocky of the time the bike stalled when we were in Campbellton, New Brunswick. The chain was fairly new but the bike was fully loaded when it stalled going down a hill. That may have put a lot of tension on the links, causing them to stretch. At least we finally knew what the problem might be.


We packed up to leave but continued chatting with Craig. He was a mean looking guy that enjoyed riding a Harley Davidson. A customer and friend of his showed up and joined the conversation. Jason, along with his son Braydon, offered us a place to set up the tent on their property. Craig then suggested that we might as well stay at his camp, where we could spend the night on a bed in the spare room. We would have been happy at either place. We all met at Jason's, a beautiful house located in Hillsborough, New Brunswick, where we were introduced to his wife Lisa and his daughter Bridgette. We also met Craig's other half, Betty. Jason grilled some steak and poured us some beer as we all got to know each other. After eating, he offered to ride us around his property. Jason is the Quarry Operations Manager for the company, Brunswick Limestone. With the Limestone Quarry located on his property, he offered to give us a tour on a crazy looking Dune Buggy that had adrenalin written all over it. Rocky and I strapped in and held on to the 'holy shit bars' as we sped though the dirt and gravel paths. After racing around and doing a few 360's and 180's, I was chewing on dirt and picking mud out of my hair. It was the most fun that I have had in a long time.

As it became late in the day, Craig and Betty drove Rocky and I to the camp. Betty's camp was a log home situated deep in the back roads of Hillsborough. Resting on the top of a hill, it offered a fantastic view. Craig’s friend Aaron joined us there, and, after a few drinks, Rocky told them he was a bit disappointed to have not seen any moose in Newfoundland. Craig said he had been spotted one a few days back and suggested we go back to the same spot to see if it was still hanging around there. It was a great drunken idea but I highly doubted our mission to meet moose would pan out. We tip toed with excitement hoping to get a peek. Just as we reached the end of a driveway at a different camp, we immediately saw a mother moose with her baby at the salt licks. A salt lick is a deposit of mineral salts that animals use to supplement their nutrition, ensuring that they get enough minerals in their diets. Hunters sometimes use artificial salt licks, either blocked or bagged, to attract wildlife such as moose, to encourage potential prey to frequent an area. With Craig being a hunter, I think he got more excited than we did. It was pretty awesome.


We got back to camp and had a few more drinks before two more of Craig’s friends showed up. We were introduced to Animal and Jamie and quickly found out why his friend had been nicknamed Animal. He was absolutely hilarious. As I sat back to take a good look at these guys, I watched them exude toughness but I had to laugh when Craig said that he doesn't go to work to make friends. I had to remind him that his new friends he met at his work didn’t believe that for a second. Craig and his friends were sweethearts, whether they would admit it or not.

After a very late night, we woke up early to Betty cooking breakfast. Craig had to work early and I felt bad for his hangover. All of our belongings were at Jason's, so she dropped us off there before driving Craig to work. When we got to Jason's, I was still exhausted. Rocky borrowed Jason's dirt bike and followed Braydon to the back roads to learn how to dirt bike. Braydon is barely a teenager but his ability to ride was impressive. Even his little sister Bridgette had her own dirt bike and rode with the best of them. While they were having fun I was hoping that a shower would wake me up. But, three hours of sleep after a night of drinking wasn't enough. After Rocky had returned and showered, Jason offered us a bed to nap on and that did the trick.

Aaron, who we had met the night before, invited us out for a ride. He had a custom made Harley Davidson that made him look pretty badass, but I knew he was more of the polite, calm and collected type. We toured around the area and he took us to a few really pretty places. We then went back to his house to meet his beautiful girlfriend Tara, who invited us to a delicious dinner. Tara is a veterinarian with a big loving heart. Her and Aaron live together with their cat Alexis, a toy poodle named Bella, a boxer named T-bone and two Pitbulls named Gino and Compton. She explained how they just recently began experiencing some problems with the animals getting along. Gino, the Pitbull, was getting old and potentially getting dementia. He had been picking fights with Compton, the other Pitbull, for no apparent reason. It was difficult to understand what she was saying as Compton and Gino cuddled together on a mat, as best friends would. It wasn't until Tara showed us the fresh wound marks to Compton’s neck that we began to realize the severity.


Tara shared with us how 5 years earlier she met Gino, the beautiful Red Pitbull. She was in search of a dog and had located one on the Internet. When she had arrived at the house to meet him, the owner told her that the dog would cost $2000 because he was an all time winning fight dog. As a veterinarian and animal lover, Tara was devastated to hear that. She expressed her disinterest and proceeded to walk away. As the owner entered his house and was out of site, she saw Gino in a small caged area in the back yard. Without any other thoughts, Tara said that one of two things was about to happen, either Gino was going to eat her or he was going to run with her. When Tara opened the gate, her and Gino raced together into her vehicle. From that moment forth, Tara poured her heart and soul into her new buddy. Gino repaid her efforts by becoming a loving, loyal friend. Despite his traumatic and abused past, he became an incredibly wonderful family pet. It took many years, but as Gino aged, controlling his mind and abilities became much harder for him and his past began to slowly haunt him. It was very difficult to hear Tara express Gino's story. Gino seemed like such a sweet gentle soul and I could tell the amount of time, love and care that Tara had put into rehabilitating him.

After dinner, we all drove together back to the camp. Betty and Craig were already there ready to introduce us to Wyatt, Craig’s son. Wyatt is a smart, artistic, polite kid. It was really nice to meet him. After the craziness we had the night before, a relaxed night was a mutual decision. Once again, we woke up to the smell of bacon. Betty was great at spoiling us. When she joked about adopting us, we seriously considered. Spending time with them and at the camp had been so much fun. It felt great to be a Redneck, as they called it. We were sad to be leaving but happy to have met such great friends. As we all got into Betty's Jeep we took one last tour of the backwoods to glance at the lake and surrounding area once again.


We were dropped off at Aaron's to pick up our things and reacquaint ourselves with our motorcycle. We were never able to bring the bike to camp because the steep dirt roads were slippery mud after all the rain we've had this summer. When we got to Aaron's, Rocky realized that he had forgotten his keys back at camp. Aaron knew where the spare camp key was kept and offered to drive Rocky to get the key for the motorcycle. As they were pulling out of the driveway, I was grabbing some belongings from inside the house and began organizing a few things to bring them outside. Out of nowhere I heard a growl as the dogs rushed to the screen door. Suddenly, Gino grabbed a hold of Compton's cheek and locked his jaw on Compton's flesh. I stood there in shock. All I could do was scream for help.

Tara immediately tried stepping in between them but the moment I tried helping her, T-bone, the boxer was gently nipping me away. Tara asked that I try shutting the screen door on Gino's face but my attempts were pathetic. I rushed for a jug of water to try and drown him from biting but that didn't work either. It just diluted the blood into making the kitchen look like a murder scene. Aaron and Rocky must of heard me scream for help because they came rushing inside. Exhausting all efforts, everyone attempted to separate Gino's grip from Compton's face. I had to take T-bone, the boxer, into the bathroom with me and try to console him. He was confused by the commotion and also trying to get between his friends. After a moment, I heard silence. I rushed out the bathroom as soon as I felt it was safe. There was blood everywhere. With Gino outside in a cage, Tara ran to care for Compton who was hiding in the basement. She said that a little TLC and antibiotics would heal his wounds. All Rocky and I could do was try to clean away the thick smell of blood.

I'm not going to lie, it was a traumatic experience for me and it evoked many emotions. But, I have shared this story because it was a part of our experience and also because I want to take the chance to honor Gino's life. Sadly, Gino was put to rest that day. And although Tara and Aaron feel that their efforts had somehow failed Gino, I believe that isn't at all true. They had done their best to provide a gentle soul with the life he deserved and should have been given since birth. Gino was raised by an animal to become a monster. It wasn't Gino that should have been punished but the asshole who thought it was entertaining to train a dog to constantly fight for its life. Who encouraged it to be violent and raised it to believe that it was necessary and normal to distrust and kill. I seriously wish that it wasn't Compton who got attacked, or Gino who got euthanized, but that it had instead been the piece of shit who bragged that his dog was worth $2000 for never having lost a fight. May You Rest In Peace, Gino.

Our hearts felt heavy as we continued our journey. With a long day ahead of us, we rode to Hopewell Rocks and attempted to distract our minds. Hopewell Rocks are located on the shores of the Bay of Fundy. They are rock formations that stand between 40-70 feet tall caused by tidal erosion. Due to the extreme tidal range of the Bay of Fundy, advancing and retreating tides, along with waves, have eroded the base of the rocks at a faster rate than the tops, resulting in their unusual shapes. The tides vary from day to day but the high tide can be as high as 16 meters (52 ft.) giving The Hopewell Rocks one of the highest tides in the world. Twice a day the base of the formations are covered in water, we visited during low tide so that we were able to walk around.


I had contacted a guy from couchsurfing.org and we arranged to stay with him at his place in Saint John, New Brunswick. On our way to his house, we had stopped for dinner in a town called Alma. Known for its delicious seafood, I was excited for dinner. With only a limited time left in the East Coast, we were yet to have a lobster dinner. During lobster season in the East Coast, chicken is more expensive to purchase. We walked into a tiny restaurant that also served as a convenience store. In this very casual atmosphere, we were served an incredible lobster dinner.

When we arrived at Ross's house, it was almost dark. Ross met us outside and told us we were going to have a bonfire in the yard. Rocky loves to build fires and I love to sit by their warmth, it was a great plan. While Rocky started the fire, I ran inside to use the washroom and bring some things inside.

It sucks to say this, but it's what happened. As soon as I walked in, I was slapped in the face with the smell of cat litter. Ross asked me not to mind the mess but it was an uncomfortable dirty. When he showed me the bedroom, where Rocky and I would be spending the night, I didn't know how to react. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable but he put me in an uncomfortable situation. The floor was sticky and I was afraid to set my bags down. The pillows on the bed had no cases and were covered instead with a rainbow of stains. I would never dare to check between the sheets. I walked into the bathroom and immediately noticed that the floor was carpeted with a thick layer of dust and black curly hairs. There was no toilet paper, good thing I have an emergency stash.

It was such an awkward predicament to be in. I wasn't comfortable staying there. I was grateful for his kind intentions. He was a really sweet guy and it was fun to sit by the bonfire with him and his friends but I would never put a turd on a platter and invite you for dinner. Rocky and I slept on our own blanket and left early the next morning.


I wondered if we would see Marty again, the Australian we had met on the ferry to Manitoulin Island in Ontario. He had contacted us on Facebook and said he would be traveling near us. We were excited and agreed to meet. After grabbing a coffee and a few things at the grocery store, Martin, Rocky and I had a great place to camp. Tucker Park Beach was more than perfect. After our tents were pitched, Marty and I jumped in the water for a refreshing swim. It was nice to hang out with Martin and hear all of his experiences on the road. It was also exciting to share all of the memorable locations that he must not miss on his way through Newfoundland. He planned on traveling further east in the morning but Rocky and I decided to stay at Tucker Park Beach to do an oil change on the motorcycle. Half way through, it began to rain. The rain continued for the next 24 hours. We got out of the tent to finish the oil change every time we thought that the rain had stopped, but minutes later it would begin to pour down again.

The rain eventually stopped the next day and we were able to get back on the road. We planned on traveling to the Canadian/American border but weren't sure which side we would end up sleeping on. Once we arrived to St. Stephen, New Brunswick, we stopped at Tim Hortons for a cup of coffee and to dry out our camping gear. While we were there, we were approached by a local named Bernard, he was also on a motorcycle. With black clouds quickly covering the sky, he invited us to spend the night at his house, and just as we arrived there the rain began to pour down.

Bernard lived with his wife Diane in a pretty house by the train tracks. Diane and I immediately got along as we sat at the kitchen table exchanging tales. She gave me a little bit of history of St. Stephen, Canada's Chocolate Town. I didn't know why it was called that so she asked that Rocky and I take a trip over to the grocery store. We went with her and she insisted on buying us some Ganong chocolates! nom nom nom mmm chocolate. :p Ganong Chocolate Company was established in 1873 making it Canada's oldest candy company and one of St. Stephen's main employers. After a quick drive past the factory and around the entire tiny town, we returned to her house for a few more laughs and a cozy bed to sleep on. It was one last reminder of the kindness we received from all the friendly strangers in the East Coast.

Visiting Eastern Canada was a humbling experience. The landscape was ridiculously pretty and it amazed me that such a large population of incredibly kind, generous, friendly people, all live there. Leaving Canada is always difficult because we leave our comfort zone, but this time it feels a bit tougher.


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On July 18th, we took the ferry to Prince Edward Island that leaves from Pictou, Nova Scotia. The crossing was free and took roughly one hour.

We spent the day riding around P.E.I. Nearing sundown, Paula and I began to look for a place to camp. I found a park on my GPS and set it as our destination. We arrived at Green Park Provincial park just before sunset, only to find out that there was pay-camping nearby and sings were posted that prohibited camping in the park. With the sun down and the skies darkening, we eventually settled for a grassy patch next to the highway.

Green Park Provincial Park

The following day, we made out way back to the mainland, cross from P.E.I. along an almost 20km-long bridge. I battled strong cross winds until we finally reached land in New Brunswick. Stopping back in Moncton to pick up parts from the local KTM dealership, Toys For Big Boys, we met Craig, who works in the service department. He balanced my front tire for free, and offered us a place to stay for the weekend at his camp (cottage).

Craig's friend, Jason, who was at Toys for Big Boys picking up his dirt bikes with his son, Braydon, invited us all back to his place for beer and steaks. Afterwards, he took us for a spin in his dune buggy around his large property in Hillsborough, New Brunswick.

We spent that evening at Craig's camp. It was truly a red-neck haven, complete with shotgun-shell Christmas lights and an amazing view of the surrounding area.

There was another cabin at the camp that was no longer used. It had a lot of character.

We met Aaron while that evening at Craig's camp. Aaron rides a custom Harley and looks pretty bad-ass, but he's a super nice guy. He took Paula and I on a ride around the coastal region of the Bay of Fundy and invited us to his place for dinner with his girlfriend, Tara.

Aaron At The Camp

After two nights, it was time for Paula and I to head towards the U.S. border. We spent the morning with Craig, his girlfriend, Betty, and Craig's son, Wyatt.

Paula, Betty, Wyatt & Craig

Paula & Wyatt

Craig dropped us off at Aaron's house, where we had parked our motorcycle, and we said our good-byes to Craig, Wyatt and Betty. Aaron and Tara owned several pets, including two Pit Bulls and a Boxer. The elder Pit Bull, Gino, who was a fight dog that Tara had rescued five years earlier (read her story above), had recently been attacking the other Pit Bull, Compton. While we were there, Gino suddenly attacked Compton, latching onto his face with a vice-like grip. There was a struggle to pry Gino's jaws open that ended in a room covered in Compton's blood. Compton was OK and required only minor medical attention. The difficult decision was made that day to have Gino put to rest.

We didn't get to say a proper good-bye to Tara and Aaron. Shaken from what had transpired, Paula and I packed up the motorcycle and made our way down the coast of The Bay of Fundy to Hopewell Rocks.

The Hopewell Rocks, also called the Flowerpot Rocks or simply The Rocks, are rock formations caused by tidal erosion in The Hopewell Rocks Ocean Tidal Exploration Site in New Brunswick. They stand between 40-70 feet tall. — Wikipedia

They are located on the shores of the upper reaches of the Bay of Fundy at Hopewell Cape near Moncton, New Brunswick. Due to the extreme tidal range of the Bay of Fundy, the base of the formations are covered in water twice a day. -- Wikipedia

We arrived at low tide, which allowed us to walk along the floor.

The following day, we got a message from Marty, whom we had met on our second day of the trip on the ferry crossing to Manitoulin Islands. He was in the same area and we made plans to meet up in St. John, New Brunswick.

After having a bite to eat and catching up on our travel stories, we rode around and search for a place to camp. With the sun nearing the horizon, we came across a perfect spot along the bank of the St. John River at Tucker Beach Park.

Paula and Marty took a dip in the water, while I sat on the rocks and snapped photos.

Marty

That evening, we sat on the rocks, had dinner and talked into the night. The following morning, Marty packed up and we said so-long as he set out to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia.

After two more days at Tucker Beach Park trying to do an oil change in between rains, Paula and I set out towards the U.S. border. We stopped in the border town of Saint Stephen to have our last Tim Horton's coffee. While sitting there, a local, named Bernard, started up a conversation. We all noticed the ominous storm clouds arriving from the west, and Bernard offered us a place to stay at his house just down the street and around the corner. We followed Bernard back to his place and met his wife, Diane. Bernard worked the night shift, so we spent that evening with Diane, chatting and driving around town. Paula and I left the following morning and crossed into the United States.

Sorry to hear about demise of Gino the pitbull. really glad you two didn't get attacked when trying to separate. that would have resulted in a trip to the hospital with life changing damage.

It was a really tough moment. We were all just worried about the other dog, and not really ourselves.

Vermont
 

July 25, 2013 - July 29, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We crossed the border into the USA, entering the State of Maine. I've always heard good things of Maine, but I think it got my hopes up because I wasn't as impressed as I was told I would be. It depends how you like to travel though. It was packed with tourists, many people obviously like it there. Once we entered New Hampshire, I thought it was really beautiful. After a full day of riding, we decided that we would try to find a place to hide our tent. We were in a town called North Conway, New Hampshire, and decided to camp in a field behind a McDonald's. North Conway is a very pretty town, I was excited to see more of New Hampshire. We began our morning early with hopes of avoiding rain. Rain seems to be the theme for this wet summer. Before riding through the White Mountain National Forest, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts for breakfast and coffee. It was a shitty way to start our day, Dunkin Donuts has the most horrible watered down coffee we have ever tasted.


Just after approaching White Mountains, Rocky asked me if I felt something weird. We were stopped for road construction but as soon as we started riding again Rocky noticed we had a flat tire. We pulled over into a campsite parking lot and I'm surprised that Rocky didn't snap. He has had to take the tires off so many times in the past few weeks that I bet he would be able to do it with his eyes shut. Once we were finally able to locate the tiny hole in the tube, we tried to patch it. For whatever reason, the patch wasn't sticking. We decided to use the old spare tube we kept for emergencies only, but I'm going to bet that it will soon cause us to do another tire change. We put the bike back together and re-packed our belongings for another attempt at riding. We were frustrated but at least the rain only spat at us the entire time. I would have hated the day if the rain had poured on us. We got back on the bike and enjoyed the view as we exited New Hampshire and entered into Vermont.

We had gone to high school with Rocky's good friend Jaimie and we planned on visiting him deep in the wilderness. Jaimie decided to move to Vermont after he found 23 acres of forest land for sale. He had always imagined living away from society and he made his dreams come true. After he moved into the forest, he began constructing what he calls home. A four story high, geodesic dome that has a trampoline as one of the floors and a large slide that can be used if you don't want to use the stairs. It features an outdoor cooking area with a stove made out of a recycled Keg that uses wood to heat. A natural spring runs through the property, with cold, delicious water. A washing machine is available for doing laundry, but it’s cranked by hand. And, he has an alternator connected to his bicycle, to charge a bank of batteries for electricity.

Jaimie has also constructed a nearby workspace. Built from an old airplane hanger, he calls it the Banana building. For the past few years he has been building spider-like robots. After making a few small prototypes he began to create a giant size spider robot. He documented the entire process on YouTube and was eventually contacted by an interested toy company. Attacknids are now sold in stores and have won a few awards. They are a six-legged robot with armour, weapons and a "battle brain". They have a head that rotates 360 degrees to aim its gun. The interchangeable blasters can fire disks, darts, or balls. They wear armor on each leg that flies off when it’s hit. After three direct hits to a plastic switch on the face, the robot shuts down. It can even wade through water and mud up to 3 inches high. I wish toys like these were invented when I was a child. I owned a sticker book and a few fake Barbies.


When Rocky contacted Jaimie, he asked him if it was possible to bring the motorcycle all the way up to the dome. We should've known that Jaimie believes everything is possible. There are two ways in, he told us, and it is possible to bring in the motorcycle if we took the long route in. Jaimie met us at the entrance but I didn't see a road. It was more like a hiking trail. I immediately got off the motorcycle and unloaded our bags to let Rocky tackle the off road experience. Jaimie helped me carry all of our luggage, except for the panniers. They remained on the bike. And by helping me, I mean he carried most of it. He is a machine. We hiked under the hot sun for almost one kilometer and then hiked through the forest for another kilometer. Jamie and I were pouring sweat while Rocky was practicing his off-roading. As soon as we got to a spot that Rocky could no longer get through, we had to remove the panniers. I wanted to poke him in the eyes when he told me that off-roading was also really hard work. Yes, he definitely worked up a sweat as well but I saw him forcing to hide his smirk, he loved every second. Approximately 300 meters later, the bare bike wasn't even able to continue but we were only a couple hundred meters from Jaimie's dome. All I could think of was how the heck we were going to get back out of there.

As soon as we reached Jaimie's place, I was out of breath and ready to collapse. But, we weren't done yet. Since it would be getting dark soon, Jaimie showed us where there was a good flat place to pitch our tent. We followed him up a 30 meter cliff, I was glad that a rope was placed there to help me pull myself up. I am petrified of heights but with my body working so hard my brain couldn't even function to distract me with fear. After reaching the top of the hill, I was surprised to see people, especially an entire family. We met Martin, Brandy and their two kids. They also had just arrived. They were on their way to Maine for a vacation but wanted to stop in Vermont to meet Jaimie. Martin was a big fan viewing Jaimie on YouTube and he wanted to see the giant robot.

The following morning, I felt good after sleeping like a baby. Rocky and I took a moment to gather our thoughts to figure out the best plan to get the bike out along with all of our things. Since the bike could only use the same trail it entered, Rocky would have to ride it back out the same way. We also decided that the smartest thing to do was carry our luggage out the opposite, shorter trail. As soon as we established the plan, we decided that we would need to bring the panniers up near the dome so that it would be a shorter distance to eventually carry them out in the opposite trail we came in. Luckily, Martin offered to help us because it was much heavier than we thought and the trail was extremely steep at that point. Martin cut down two tree branches and a gurney was built. Him and Rocky carried them half of the way but Brandy and I helped once we saw that they were struggling. We were really grateful for their help. It wasn't a job that most would sign up for, especially on their vacation. Once we were done carrying them closer to Jaimie's house, Rocky rode out of the forest and I hiked out following him. It took us almost two kilometers to reach the road and from there it was a quick distance on the bike to the small town of South Royalton. Once we were done doing our laundry at the local laundromat, we prepared ourselves to do the hike back to Jaimie's. How the heck does he live like this? I was exhausted and I had only been there two days.


I was dreading the next morning. Even though the bike was moved to the closest exit and I had carried out a huge bag on my back the day before, we still had two trips to make out of there. The first trip was for Rocky and I to carry out the panniers, the same panniers that took four people to carry. At least Rocky was encouraging, "It's only a bit more than one kilometer through the forest and past the two ponds!" Each pannier weighs approximately 40 lbs. and I could've never imagined being able to manage. I still can’t believe that I was capable of doing that. It was probably the most physically challenging thing I have ever done. After taking a rest, we decided to go back for part two, we still had to carry out a 75 liter bag with all of our camping gear, a backpack, a tripod and a heavy tank bag filled with all of our electronics. We hiked back to Jaimie's and before taking our last hike out, we finally had the chance to visit with our hosts. Jaimie lives with his partner Deshaina and his adorable little girls Aurora and Bellatrix. We all sat in their outdoor kitchen to enjoy a tasty meal Deshaina had prepared. I just can't imagine how Deshaina is able to live in the middle of a forest with two little girls. I applaud her because I wouldn't have the strength or I'd suffer from cabin fever. The mental and physical strength it would take to live there, would tare me to bits. After saying our farewells and thanking them for the insane but incredible memories, we finally made it back to our motorcycle with all of our gear. I am really grateful for the experience. Seeing Jaimie again after so many years was awesome, and it was really nice to meet Deshaina and their two lovely girls. And of course, I was also excited at the thought of losing a few pounds.

After a long day of hiking, we decided to camp by the White River in the small town of South Royalton, on the outskirts of the wilderness. We didn’t go far at all, yet we seemed so far away from where we last camped, at Jaimie's. Our next journey would begin in the morning on our way to New York City. We rode through many States that day. We left Vermont and re-entered New Hampshire. We rode through Massachusetts and then into Connecticut. It was nice to finally sit down at McDonald's to use their WIFI. After a couple of hours, we were approached by a man. Ken asked us about our motorcycle and travels, he too owned a motorcycle. We spent a very long time talking up a storm until his wife Pam walked inside to introduce herself, and to probably see what was taking her husband so long. Moments later, she asked us to spend a night at there home.

Ken was a Preacher and he lived with his wife and father, Merle, in a large, beautiful home behind their church. Ken and Pam have been married for most of their lives and it was cute to see how deeply in love they still were. They had recently celebrated an anniversary in Alaska and were excited to show us photographs of their trip. Rocky and I were immediately inspired to someday visit Alaska as well. Ken and Pam described their trip by saying everything about it was perfect because they believed that they were in the FOG. Being in the FOG is an acronym for Favor Of God.

After a nice hot shower, the bed we had slept on felt especially comfortable. It had been a really long time since we had slept on something soft. We woke up refreshed are were ready for our next adventure towards the city that never sleeps, New York.


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We visited my high school friend, Jaimie, who lived in Vermont. After university, Jaimie bought some land just next to the small town of South Royalton. His home was in the middle of the forest where there is no road access, and the kilometer (or so) hike through the trees took you to the dome he built from scrap parts. He had a fresh water spring, solar panels and a battery bank for power.

Jaimie, an inventor and a bit of a recluse, lived with his girlfriend, Dashaina, and his two children, Aurora and Bellatrix.

Aurora

Jaimie & Aurora, Dashaina & Bellatrix

Bellatrix & I

Paula & Bellatrix

Jaimie turned his hobby of building a giant mechanical robot into somewhat of a career, and has designed award-winning toys that are sold all over the world. Since visiting Jaimie in Vermont, he and his family have since sold "The Dome" and have taken up traveling in a converted cube van across North America. Jaimie and Dashaina mentioned the idea of buying an island somewhere in South America as a possible future plan.

After a few days visiting with Jaimie and his family, Paula spent out last night in the town of South Royalton, where we were able to do our laundry and prepare for the ride to New York City.

While stopped at a McDonald's near Southington, Connecticut, we met Ken and Pam. Ken noticed our motorcycle and struck up a conversation. Ken and Pam are two avid bikers whose ride of choice is a 2008 Honda Goldwing. After conversing for about an hour, Ken and Pam invited us back to their home since we hadn't yet found a place to sleep for the night. They offered a spare bedroom with a comfortable bed and a nice, hot shower. WE spent the night and, the following morning, made our way south towards New York City.

New York City
 

July 30, 2013 - August 5, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg I was excited to go to New York City but we had many things to organize. We knew that parking the motorcycle in such a large city was going to be an annoying issue and we tried to solve that problem immediately. Since we were going to Iceland after NYC, we thought it would be easier if we shipped the bike sooner than later. The first thing we did once we entered the city was go directly to the airport. At Iceland Air Cargo, we were notified that we would have to provide our own crate. We were given phone numbers for a few companies that could build one for us, but they quoted the cost at almost $1000 USD. We thought that was absurd, especially since the cost to ship the bike was $1500 USD. There was no possible way we were affording that, we would simply have to build our own. Haldor, an employee of Iceland Air Cargo, said he would bring us a power drill in the morning and we could build the crate out front of the loading dock.


We rode to Home Depot and, after figuring out what materials we needed and how much it would cost us, we had to come up with a plan to figure out how to bring all the materials to Iceland Air Cargo. I'm surprised that Rocky didn't ask me to sit on the back of the motorcycle and carry all of the wood as he drove. I bet he considered the idea. Since it was too late to do anything else at the moment, we had no choice but to ride into Manhattan and figure things out in the morning. Just as we were about to finally leave Home Depot, the bike wouldn't start. Frustrated, we pushed the motorcycle to a nearby gas station in the case that Home Depot needed to lock its gated property. At the gas station, we unscrewed the skid plate and wiggled some wires. After a few minutes the bike finally started. At this point, we both just wanted the day to be over with. We rode towards Manhattan with low spirits but just as we were crossing the Manhattan Bridge, the sun was beginning to set below the horizon and the city glowed a beautiful bright orange into the purple sky. It was an incredible skyline that immediately demanded our attention.


My friend Theresa lives in Lower East Side Manhattan with her boyfriend Wayne and their little girl, Celia. They invited us to stay with them and reassured us that not only would it be safe to park on her street, but it was also free. We had no choice regardless, we were stuck with the bike until a crate was built. All we could do was hope the bike would be fine parked in the streets of NYC. When we arrived at Theresa's I was immediately greeted with a big hug. I consider Theresa my family. She has been a friend of mine since we were teenagers and has always gone out of her way for me. Once again, she was there with open arms, and a delicious dinner was waiting for us when we walked through the door. I immediately felt at home.

Rocky and I woke up early the next morning with intentions of building a crate. Our plans fell apart the moment Rocky realized that he didn't have his original registration papers for the motorcycle. Without that legal document, the motorcycle would not be shipped. We spent hours making phone calls trying to find out our options. We were told that Rocky would have to send a signed letter through FedEx to give his mom permission to pick up an original registration title to the motorcycle. Once receiving Rocky's letter, his mother would have to present it to the Ministry of Transportation in order to receive a new registration paper. She would then have to send it rush delivery to Iceland Air Cargo. We could only hope that everything would be done in good timing so that the paper work could be processed in time for the motorcycle to clear customs into Iceland. Iceland air Cargo only ships on Saturdays and we already faced the fear that it would arrive a week later than us. We could not afford to take the chance it would arrive even later. After spending most of the afternoon stressed out, Theresa thought it was best if we spent the remaining sunshine at the pool, she was right.




Once again, we woke up very early the next morning to try and build the crate. We would have had to wake up early regardless, parking on the street still came at a price that money couldn't pay. There were so many rules that we are surprised we didn't get towed for not properly following them. Parking was offered on either side of the road, but not at the same time. We would have to move the motorcycle from one side to the other because there was designated street sweeping hours. The hours were different for each side, we had to move the motorcycle every night after 12am/2am and every morning after 7am/8am to the opposite side. It was free to park on either side, except in the morning until evening, but we didn't find out the pay part until days later.



Rocky went inside of Home Depot to buy the materials and have an employee cut the wood into specific sizes. I waited outside with the motorcycle trying to find someone to drive the wood to the airport for us. There were many men standing outside, hoping to be picked up for labor work. Many illegal immigrants, unable to legally get a job in America, stood out front of Home Depot with hopes of making a few dollars for offering help with construction/labor jobs. I found a man with a van who accepted my offer of $30, to take the wood for the crate, to the airport. Everything was running much smoother than previous days but we had a lot of work still left to do. We spent all day building the crate and once we were finally done, we felt relieved to no longer have any responsibility to the motorcycle. After taking the Subway back to Theresa's, it felt great to arrive in time for a delicious meal.

The following day, were finally ready and able to tour the Big Apple! Rocky and I joined Theresa and her baby Celia into the city. For many years, Theresa was a model before becoming a mother. Her good friend and former photographer, Jo Lance, came out to meet with us for the day. He is extremely creative and talented. A character difficult to describe with any words other than absolutely fabulous. We walked around all day and evening absorbing the energy of the huge city and each other. After hours upon hours of many kilometers on our feet, we still weren't done walking but we had to stop for the night.



We woke up feeling a little bit lazy and Theresa recommended that Rocky and I take a walk to her favourite place, a Turkish Bathhouse. We had never been to one before but she convinced us that we'd love it. As soon as we entered the building, we went to a change room where we put on our swimsuits. Once we were back in the main hall, we grabbed a long cloth robe/cloak along with two towels each - one to sit on and the other to wrap around our head. Rocky and I followed Theresa down the steep stairs into a dark cellar. The entire place was crowded. I could barely see faces because I was distracted by so many speedos. All I kept thinking was where the hell am I? But Theresa is notorious for introducing me to interesting situations. We followed her into what I can only describe as a dungeon. It was pitch black and intensely hot.


We entered a small irregular room approximately 15 feet by 10 feet. Long cement blocks were constructed along the walls used for sitting, and a large cement well filled with freezing cold water sat in the center of the room. Just as I felt like I was going to suffocate, Theresa grabbed for a bucket, filled it with water and poured it over each of our heads. We were so hot that steam escaped our bodies. I suddenly understood why everybody was almost nude. I was completely soaked, dripping of sweat and water. The steam in that room was hot enough to slow cook a meal. After a while, we followed Theresa out of the door and she led us to an ice-cold pool. The heat from our bodies immediately escaped as we entered the water that was suitable for a polar bear. We then followed her inside a small room where she pulled a handle and jet streams of warm water shot out at us in every direction. "Ok, are you ready?" I never know what Theresa has in mind when she says things like that. Nonetheless, I trusted her (maybe ;) and I was as ready as I could ever be. I followed her back into the dark steaming dungeon and she hands me over to a tall massive man and tells him "Give it to her really hard!" Being on the road is tough on the body and having a huge Russian man bend, stretch and beat me with a branch was exactly what I needed. It sounds sarcastic but I am being serious. I will gladly visit another bathhouse in my lifetime.



Feeling refreshed the next morning, we were ready once again for the streets of NYC. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and we took a ferry to Long Island so that we could peek at the Statue of Liberty. We also walked around the World Trade Center Memorial and continued walking until we were exhausted. As soon as we returned to Theresa's apartment, dinner was ready for us. Wayne had spent all day slaving over the oven to feed us a delicious meal. We felt spoiled.

An entire week with Theresa was well-needed, it had been a while since we had seen each other. I was happy to have met Wayne and to have had the opportunity to spend some time getting to know Celia. She is such an intelligent little girl. I think she is absolutely precious. It was a perfect way for me to part with Northern America. We packed our bags the next morning and said our goodbyes before getting into the taxi. We were prepared to take our flight to Iceland and extremely excited to finally get there. Iceland has been on the top of our list of destinations to visit. It was a dream about to come true for the both of us!

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Paula and I arrived in New York City on the hot and hazy afternoon of July 30th. We arrived at Iceland AirCargo to arrange the shipment of the motorcycle to Iceland only to find out that IcelandAir Cargo didn't provide the crate required for shipment. We called a few companies and were provided a quote of $680 plus a minimum of $180 for delivery ($860!). Not wanting to spend that much on money on a wooden box, we decided to visit a nearby Home Depot, purchase some lumber and build our own. We spent $120 for wood and Paula contracted an foreign man who was looking for work to deliver the wood to the cargo depot, 5km away, for $30. Halldór, the IcelandAir Cargo employee who was organizing the shipment of the motorcycle, brought his cordless drill in for us to use, and Paula and I spent a few days getting supplies and building our crate.

While organizing the shipment of the motorcycle, we stayed with Paula's friend, Theresa. Theresa moved from Hamilton, Ontario to New York over ten years ago for work as a model. She lives with her partner, Wayne, and their one year-old daughter, Celia, in the lower east side of Manhattan. After finally finishing up the details of the shipment, we were able to see a bit of The Big Apple.

Paula, Theresa and I spent the day seeing some of the sights New York City has to offer. We first visited the New York City Public Library.

Inside The New York City Public Library

The New York City Public Library

While visiting The New York City Public Library, we met up with one of Theresa's best friends, Jo Lance.
Theresa's one year-old daughter, Celia, had just become bipedal a few weeks prior to our arrival in New York. By the time we had arrived, she was already using her newfound mobility to tear up the streets of New York.

The five of us walked around the city and made our way to Grand Central Terminal.

Theresa and Paula have been friends since they were teenagers.

A Walk In The Park

Celia & Paula

Jo Lance is an eccentric, one-of-a-kind character who works in the art and photography industry, and has co-hosted the reality TV show, Mexico's Next Top Model.

The obligatory Time Square photo

Jumping Joe Lance

A Walk In New York

Manhattan at night

On our last full day in New York City, Paula and I toured lower Manhattan. At the time, there was a global terror alert and we, being the geniuses we are, stood around and watched as fire crews responded to a building fire just around the corner from the site of the World Trade Center.

Visiting the site of the former World Trade Center, we were reminded of the tragedy of that September day in 2001, and the innocent lives that were lost.

In order to prevent further such tragedies, I find it important to understand why such acts of terror occur. It is important to condemn all acts of terror, especially those perpetrated by our own governments in our names.

The tragedy of the 9/11 attacks were used to justify an illegal war that has resulted in an estimated 120,000 civilian deaths. These deaths are mostly absent from the public discourse. An American, Canadian or British life is no more valuable than an Iraqi, Pakistani or a Palestinian life.

The Buildings of New York City

After visiting the 9/11 Memorial, Paula and I decided to take the ferry to Staten Island.

Sailing From Manhattan

The Manhattan Skyline

Lady Liberty

On The Staten Island Ferry

Arriving In Staten Island

Postcards 9/11 Memorial

Lower Manhattan

We arrived back in lower Manhattan, after a long day of walking around the city, to a delicious meal. Wayne, who is originally from England, served us a traditional meal of Yorkshire Pudding, potatoes and vegetables. Even Theresa, who is the cook in the family, was impressed.

We spent our last night in New York City getting ready for our flight to Iceland that we were to take the following morning. We had a great time visiting Theresa and her family, and we can't thank them enough for sharing their cozy Manhattan apartment with us for the week.

Arriving In Iceland
 

August 5, 2013 - August 19, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We arrived at the airport just shortly after 12am. I was surprised by the amount of light still left in the northern sky. Without a motorcycle it felt strange, almost a little lonely. Rocky searched outside the airport for a place to pitch our tent but I had doubts that we'd be ok to camp on airport grounds. It seemed there was no place to hide, the land was flat and there were no trees in sight. Apparently, only 1.4% of Iceland has trees. Just outside of the parking lot exit was a small area of planted bushes. I'm not sure how Rocky managed to find the narrow path of patio stone that led him through the bushes and into an open area just large enough to fit our tent. It seemed kind of random, but I'm guessing that a patio was created with a bush garden around it and nobody ever trimmed the hedges. Regardless, it was a perfect hiding spot for our tent.



Early the next morning, we packed our bags and created a sign that read Keflavik. Rocky nominated me to hold the sign and stick out my thumb. Had I shaven, I may have stuck out my leg, but to my surprise, it only took 10 minutes before a man named Tomas picked us up. The town of Keflavik wasn't too far, it only took us a few minutes to get there. Tomas dropped us off on a main road in front of a Subway Sandwich Restaurant. Can anyone guess what we ate for lunch? At least we would begin searching for a cheaper way to eat, that sub cost almost twice the price we were accustomed to paying.


We knew we would be waiting at least five days for the bike and that kind of sucked. We chose the type of luggage we have because it is easy for the bike to carry, not us. It would be awkward and difficult to travel by foot and carry all of our belongings. Besides, I'm far too lazy for that. We decided to stay in Keflavik and work on trying to catch up on our website. Rocky found an open Internet connection at a library and we pitched our tent in the park across the street so that we would be able to keep an eye on our stuff as we sat inside. We just hoped that nobody would say anything about a tent being pitched in the center of town in a public park.

Our first night went well and we heard no complaints. We kept the tent pitched and walked across the road to the library in the morning. Still tired, I decided to take a walk to go search for coffee. I approached a man and asked him if he knew where I could find good cheap coffee. He laughed and replied, "Nothing is cheap in Iceland" and then continued walking. I approached the second man who walked past me, and again I asked if he knew where I could find good, cheap coffee. He laughed and replied, "My dear, nothing is cheap in Iceland". I became sad and slightly crazy with the thought that coffee in Iceland might be out of our budget. I continued walking up the road until I reached a restaurant. I asked the girl behind the counter how much for each cup of coffee and she replied, "They come free with a combo, just take some." Things might be expensive in Iceland but kindness makes up for it!



After another night in the park, I was shocked that nobody had asked us to leave. After all, we were visibly camping in the center of town. Once again we went to the library to work on our website. To my surprise, I could hear two ladies behind me speaking Portuguese. Maybe it was the familiarity that comforted me in this foreign land, but their words sounded like music to my ears. I immediately introduced myself to Angela and her mother Laura. They are originally from Angola in Africa and have been living in Iceland for many years. Angela was in the process of opening up a coffee shop in the area of the library we were sitting at. That excited me. I asked her if I could purchase two coffees and she made me two Cafe Lattes. When I asked her how much, she told me that she could not legally sell anything yet because she was supposed to receive her business license that day, but was having difficulties. She refused payment and seemed happy to give us complimentary coffee. But, we weren't the only ones to receive special treatment. As she cleaned and organized her shop, many customers asked to purchase coffee and she politely continued to serve it for free. Her kindness was not typical of a business owner but I believe that because of it she will be very successful.

After a few days, Angela hadn't got her license yet but continued to insist on giving us free coffee and food. She said it was because we were her first (none paying) customers and we were going through some troubles waiting for something important as well. She also told us, numerous times, that if we needed anything not to hesitate asking. I'm not sure she knew how kind she had already been. On the Friday of that week, she invited us to join her and her parents, Amandio and Laura, for dinner at her house. We left our belongings with the tent and went to her house. Dinner was delicious and the conversations were great. Amandio taught me a lot of history about the Portuguese people of Africa and the civil war that took place. It was history I was never aware of, interesting to know. I really enjoyed getting to know this family.


It was almost 10 pm when we had returned to our tent and our things had been left untouched. Never-mind, I take that back. As Rocky lay in the tent and gazed at the stars, he wondered why he was able to see the sky. There was a tare on the top of our tent. It was an odd location for the tent to be cut, unless it wasn't cut but torn instead. As I cleaned the area to attempt a patch job, I noticed a bit of dirt. I'm pretty sure that one of the many drunken kids roaming the street on that Friday night may have thrown a rock, which would cause the tent to rip. To make matters worse, we didn't have our patch kit with us, it was in the side bag of the motorcycle. I had no choice but to use what I had, to patch the tare. Electrical tape and bandages was going to have to do the trick. Luckily the rain wasn't much that night and we woke up dry.

The day before, we had been approached by a man who had introduced himself as Gylfi Jón. He is the director of education and works above the library, beside the Mayors office. Oh yeah, by the way, we were camped in front of the Mayors office all week. Hah! Anyway, Gylfi Jón invited us to have lunch with him and we were happy to join. We packed up all of our bags, because we no longer trusted leaving our belongings unattended, and we went to a place that Gylfi Jón called his Hut. Located on the southwestern coast of Iceland, the Hut is on farmland called Hafurbjarnarstadir. Good luck trying to pronounce that.




Gylfi Jón was a very polite character with a smile that suggested he was much funnier than he was reserved. He had a very gentle, calming effect, and he seemed really sincere. As he seasoned a plateful of lamb-chops and prepared some veggies, I got the impression that he was also a good cook. My thoughts were proven correct shortly after. I have never been a fan of lamb but it was absolutely delicious. Actually, those lamb-chops were the tastiest meat I have ever eaten.

After a full tummy, Gylfi Jón invited us to walk down to the shore and visit the lighthouse. The hut was surrounded by farmland occupied by gorgeous Icelandic horses. They appeared different from what I consider typical. Probably because the Icelandic horses remains a breed known for its purity of bloodline. It is the only horse breed present in Iceland because law prevents horses from being imported into the country, and exported animals are not allowed to return. Icelandic horses are short and stalky with beautiful wild manes. They display two gaits in addition to the typical walk, trot, and canter/gallop commonly displayed by other breeds. Tölt, the first additional gait is known for its explosive acceleration and speed. It is a comfortable, ground-covering ride. The breed also performs a pace called askeið, flugskeið or "flying pace". It is used in pacing races, and is fast and smooth, with some horses able to reach up to 30 miles per hour (48 km/h). It is not a gait used for long-distance travel. I kept imagining that one of them would let me jump on their back and they would Tölt me around the country.


The ocean was approximately 200 meters from the Hut. We followed the shore, decorated with arctic flowers, until we got to the lighthouse, more than one kilometer away. We immediately fell in love with this place. When we returned to the Hut, Gylfi Jón invited us to stay there until we received our motorcycle. Rocky and I were ecstatic. It was great to have this cute wooden home all to ourselves. It was well equipped with everything we needed to feel comfortable, but the best thing it featured was the shower. Located on the outside of the hut, was a showerhead poking out of the wall. Gylfi Jón warned us that the area was popular for bird watchers with their fancy binoculars. But, I imagine that bird watchers deserve some sort of excitement in their lives as well. Once the fireplace was lit, I was ready to run out in the cold to test the waters. It already felt great to feel hot water splash all over me as the cool wind blew past, but, to experience this as fields of horses grazed and the sun set below the oceans horizon, was extraordinary. I can't describe a more peaceful moment in my life.

Gylfi Jón showed up the following day and invited us to visit a geothermal area located nearby. He brought with him his friend Baldur, and a five-year-old girl named Anna, who is his girlfriend’s daughter. We visited an area that I could best describe as burnt earth. Steam rose up from the cracks and water bubbled with heat. In Iceland, history is told with magical stories. An extremely large percentage of Icelanders believe in trolls, ferries, ghosts and other things alike. Gylfi Jón wasn't one of them but he was a great storyteller as he expressed all of the tales. We walked along high cliffs that met the oceans shore and as we walked through a field, Anna grabbed for my hand and gestured for me to sit with her. She showed me a patch of Cow Berries and began picking them to eat. We sat there for a while staining our lips and fingers. After a great day of site seeing, I was thrilled that we had the opportunity to wander even though we had no motorcycle. It was also nice to make new friends. When we arrived at the Hut, Baldur asked us for our permission to be interviewed. He is a journalist for the newspaper DV and wanted to post an article about us, our travels and our time in Iceland. We awkwardly agreed with blushed cheeks. After interviewing us, he also offered us a vehicle for the following day. It was a very kind gesture and we were obviously excited to be able to explore some of Iceland. Iceland has been on top of our list of places to see in the world. Being there, but immobile, was such a tease.


The next morning, we hitchhiked to the bus station and took a bus into Reykjavik. The whole country of Iceland is only made up of 318,000 people and 200,000 of them live in the capital city of Reykjavik. We met up with Baldur at his job and picked up the car for a road trip. We had been experiencing a lot of rain but that day had been perfect for us. It felt strange to be touring around in a car but there were a few conveniences I really liked. It was much warmer and it was great to be able to sit back comfortably.




Baldur recommended that we visit a popular tourist route in South Iceland called the Golden Circle. The area covers approximately 300 km looping from Reykjavík into central Iceland and back. We first stopped at Þingvellir National Park. Iceland is situated on the Eurasian and North-American plate boundaries and the Þingvellir area is part of a fissure zone that runs through the country. Both continents are gradually moving apart from each other by an average of 3 mm each year and the cracks or faults, which traverse the region, can be clearly seen. From there we visited the geothermal active valley of Haukadalur. It is home to the geysers Strokkur and Geysir. Strokkur continues to erupt every 5-10 minutes and although Geysir has been inactive for a long time, its name has continued to be used to describe such a fairly rare phenomenon. Our last stop was to visit the waterfall, Gullfoss, meaning golden falls. It was large, powerful and absolutely gorgeous.

The day was almost over and we were about to drive to Baldur's house to drop off the car. But first, it would make perfect sense for us to offer a couple of hitchhikers a ride since we've hitched a few rides ourselves. Andreas and Melanie were heading in the same direction about half of an hour away. They were from Bavaria in Germany and were traveling through Iceland for a few weeks. Many people hitchhike in Iceland, it is very common. On route to driving them to there next location, we continued to enjoy the scenery of Iceland's fantastic landscapes.




When we arrived in Reykjavik, Baldur invited us into his home for dinner. He lived with his girlfriend Hulda and young son Emil and they spoiled us with a delicious, fresh Cod fish dinner. Yummy!!! Cod is my favorite cooked fish! After constantly meeting so many amazing strangers along our journey, people's kind and friendly nature continues across the world. Baldur and his family treated us as though we were lifelong friends and that is what we will continue to be. We were very fortunate to have met such caring people.

We spent another cozy night at the Hut, and the following day we finally received an email from Iceland Air Cargo. But, the news wasn't good. Our motorcycle was stuck in customs and would not be shipped until at least the following week. Kindly, Gylfi Jón welcomed us to stay at the Hut until the motorcycle arrived. For the next few days, Rocky and I would walk through the fields of horses to get to the lighthouse. Rain or shine, and it was mostly rain, we enjoyed the fresh air and the beauty that surrounded us. We really grew attached to theses beautiful creatures. A group of seven females lived directly beside the Hut. After spending many days with them it became natural to have names for each one. Eh was a black horse with a crimped mane, she got her name from the letters EH bleached onto her coat. I want to take her back to Canada, EH! Blackie, Brownie, Blondie where named after their colours. Blondie was Rocky's favourite, she was a great model for his photo sessions. I was happy that she stole the Paparazzi attention off of me. Little one was the smallest, I'm pretty sure that she was still a pony. Timid was the only one that didn't fully trust us. She could barely be bribed with food. Jerry was named Jerry because we didn't know what to name her. Everyday rewarded us with a sense of fulfillment as we were greeted by our new friends. This place was magical.


Throughout the week, Gylfi Jón would stop by to visit. Each time, he would surprise us with a delicious treat. First he brought us "hangikjöt" (smoked lamb cold-cut) on "flatbrauð" (thin rye flatbread) a traditional Icelandic treat. A couple of days later, he came by with Sole filets. A couple of days after that, he brought us Salmon. He even took us to meet his mom, Guðrún at her house to drop off our laundry. She was as kind and nurturing as he was. I was beginning to wish that Gylfi Jón would just adopt us and we could live at the Hut forever. He is one of the kindest men I have ever met.

By the end of the week, we finally received news that our motorcycle was ready to be picked up. Rocky and I hitched a ride to the airport and waited politely for our documents to be accepted. We walked over to the docking station and the cargo employees all circled around as the crate was delivered to us. It turns out that they had read the article about us in the DV newspaper, and were excited for us as well. After assembling the bike, we finally had the chance to introduce her to this beautiful land. For the first time after being in Iceland for two weeks, I realized how cold it was. My chin froze numb as we rode back to the hut for our last night there.

Usually, to be stranded somewhere would imply a negative experience. In our case, being stranded was awesome. A part of me was excited that the motorcycle finally arrived. But, I knew that I would deeply miss the little Hut by the sea.

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg

On our flight to Iceland on Monday, we flew over Greenland and got a great view of massive glaciers and icebergs.

Our flight to Iceland arrived just before midnight on Monday. We camped out at the airport that night and the next day we decided to head to the nearby town of Keflaviík. There was no local bus service and we didn't want to spend $20 on a 4km cab ride, so we (I) decided to have Paula hitchhike. I knew that having her (instead of myself) standing there with her thumb out would drastically increase our odds of getting a ride. It took less than 10 minutes for someone to stop.

We had been camping in the town of Keflavík, in the park across the street from the public library, waiting for the motorcycle to arrive from New York. To get out of the rain, we spent the days sitting in the library, using the internet and working on the blog. On our second day there, Paula heard the familiar sound of someone speaking Portuguese, and introduced herself to the woman who was opening a coffee shop in the library. Angela was her name, and she had lived in Iceland for almost 20 years. She was setting up her new business of selling coffee and treats. Like us, Angela was also having trouble with getting her paperwork processed, so she was unable to legally sell anything. For the remainder of the week, she offered us and everyone who came into the library free food and coffee.

On the Friday, four days after arriving in Icleand, Angela invited Pala and I back to her home for a wonderful dinner and a nice, hot shower. There, we met her mother, Laura, and her, father, Amandio.

While hanging out in Keflavík Library that first week, we also met a man named Gylfi Jón. Gylfi Jón was the director of education in the area of Reykjanesbær. Gylfi Jón approached us at the end of the week while we were sitting in the library, and invited us out to his "hut" the following day for lunch. Gylfi Jón picked us up in front of the library the next day and cooked us a delicious dinner of lamb chops and potatoes. He also offered us a place to stay at his hut, which is a small cottage next to the ocean, complete with electricity, a fridge, a stove, a bbq, hot water, a wood fireplace and the best outdoor shower we have ever seen.

Gylfi Jón & Paula

The Hut By The Sea

Rock carvings done by a local artist

The area in which Gylfi Jón's hut is located, called Hafurbjarnarstadir, is home to many Icelandic horses roaming and grazing in the fields.

Feeding The Horses

Paula At The Beach

The following day Gylfi Jón, his firend, Baldur and his girlfriend's daughter, Anna ,arrived at the hut to take Paula and I to do some sightseeing in an area along the southwestern shore of Iceland.

Gylfi Jón & Paula in Southwestern Iceland

The Geothermal Area In Reykjanesbær

Shifting Plates

Anna & Paula picked wild berries growing in the area.

While visiting the area, Baldur asked many questions about our travels. Baldur was a journalist for a popular newspaper in Iceland, The DV. After returning to the hut, Baldur conducted a formal, recorded interview, which was rather awkward for Paula and I. Baldur planned to submit a story about us for the following week's paper.

The shower at Gylfi Jón's hut was on the outside of the building. The combination of the hot water, cool breeze and the view of the sunset over the ocean and the Icelandic horses in the fields is why Paula and I have deemed it the greatest shower on Earth.


Grazing Horses

After conducting the interview, Baldur offered Paula and I the use of one of his vehicles. Since we were stranded waiting for the motorcycle, Baldur suggested that we take his car for the day and drive around The Golden Circle to see some of the beautiful nature that Iceland has to offer.

Paula In Iceland

We visited Þingvellir National Park, which is just outside of the capital city of Reykjavík.

Paula At Þingvellir National Park

The Mountains of Iceland

We also visited Geysir, an active geothermal area in central Iceland.

Paula At Geysir

The Beauty of Iceland

Paula & I At Gullfoss

After spending a full day of sightseeing, dropped off the car off at Baldur's house. When we arrived, Baldur and his wife, Hulda, cooked us a delicious supper of cod fish with mashed potatoes, traditional Icelandic rye bread, cucumber salad and beer. Baldur and Hulda lived with their 3-year old son, Emil, in a suburb of Reykjavík.

Paula and I met Gylfi Jón's mother, Guðrún, who offered to wash and dry our dirty laundry. We were very grateful to her since we had run out of clean clothes and Iceland doesn't seem to have any laundromats.

With the hopes of receiving the motorcycle this weekend in Iceland, we said goodbye to Gylf Jón, who will be gone on a fishing trip for the next four days. After he left, Paula and I enjoyed the delicious salmon he brought us. We had it raw, with some soy sause, wasabi and pickled ginger.

Along with the horses, there was also a little bunny that called this beautiful place home.

The Horses of Iceland

On our second Saturday in Iceland, Paula and I walked to the grocery store and picked up the paper to find a two-page article about us.

The Article In The DV


After two weeks of waiting, the motorcycle had finally arrived in Iceland. Paula and I hitchhiked to the airport where we finally received and reassembled the bike.

The Greatest Shower On Earth

Though happy to finally have our motorcycle back, we were saddened to have to leave this magical place that we called home for our first two weeks in Iceland.

We spent our last night in the hut and, the following day, packed up out belongings onto the motorcycle and were on our way.

Hello guys!!

Excellent trip photos, as well as details!! It's heart warming to know you just took the plunge and hit the road!... A new and wonderful journey awaits you both!!

If you want help in India, and updates on the road, let me know. Will be more than willing to help anyway I can.

Cheers! And keep the posts coming! :)

Iceland
 

August 20, 2013 - September 3, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg We got up early in the morning and packed our belongings. With tears in my eyes I said goodbye to all the horses. Everything was ready to go. Rocky sat on the bike, turned the key...and nothing. The motorcycle wouldn't start. We spent a few hours trying to wiggle wires and charge the battery, but still, nothing. I eventually ran over to the neighbour's home, a few hundred meters away. He had a lot of old vehicles and machinery collected on his yard. I thought that there would be a good chance he would have cables and or even an old battery we could briefly borrow. I didn't want to bother him, but I did. He opened the door, and then slammed it shut. That didn't work out so well. Maybe if he kept his door open more often, the view wouldn't allow him to be so miserable.


I ran to the next closest place, which was a golf course, a few more hundred meters away. The lands keeper was quickly willing to help. We drove out to the hut and attached the cables to the batteries. The motorcycle quickly came to life with a roar. We hopped on her and rode towards the horses on our way out, but that didn't intimidate our long mane friends. They curiously peeked at the odd creature we rode away on, as we waved goodbye, one last time.

It was a beautiful day but we had our winter and rain liners attached to our riding gear. I was also wearing my balaclava to protect my neck and chin from the crisp air. We rode to the library where Rocky and I had spent our first week in Iceland. Angela was behind the counter at the Radhause Kaffi shop, open for business. I was extremely happy to see her glowing with pride.

We were supposed to meet Gylfi Jon there and take him out for lunch. When I asked Angela if she had seen him, she said that she had last seen him in the kitchen eating. I felt horrible for being too late. When Gylfi Jon found us, he joined us at our table. I felt emotional as I tried to come up with the right words. Nothing I could have said would have expressed how much I enjoyed meeting him and staying at the Little Hut by the Sea.

We were officially back on the road and on our own. We planned on spending the day at Iceland's most unique and popular attraction, The Blue Lagoon. In 1976, a geothermal power plant was new to the area. Superheated water was vented from 2000 meters in the ground near a lava flow. It was used to run turbines that generate electricity. After going through the turbines, the steam and hot water would pass through a heat exchanger to provide heat for a municipal water heating system. All of the wastewater outputted from the geothermal power plant formed a pool. In the years that followed, people start bathing in it.

It wasn't long before the natural geothermal seawater became known for its healing power from its active ingredients, minerals, silica and algae. The Blue Lagoon Spa was created soon after. Absolutely breathtaking, the Blue Lagoon is one of the most intensely beautiful places I have ever experienced. It was so perfect, that until I walked around the inside of the lagoon, I had no idea that man had anything to do with its intense natural beauty. It is the most compatible relationship between nature and technology I have ever seen.


Just as we were about to leave, the bike refused to start again. Luckily, we were in a very busy parking lot and finding help came easy. We left Keflavik and rode to Reykjavik. Just as we approached the city, the sun was beginning to drop towards the oceans horizon. The sky was a mixture of light pink and baby blue with wisps of translucent clouds. It was such a pretty sunset that I had to force myself to look away to check out the landscape around me. I turned my head to the right but the sky stole my attention once again. It was a pretty purple and the mountains in the distance were navy blue. But, prettier than colors, was the largest white moon I have ever seen. It dominated the sky like something I have only witness on an Anime cartoon. It is during moments like those, when I wished Rocky and I had communication devices.

Once we were in the city, it began to get late and we decided to camp out in a huge field near the University. The wind blew hard that night and we woke up to a lot of rain the following morning. Packing in the rain is definitely on the list of things I almost hate. We found a nearby Subway restaurant, and we decided to go there for a few hours. Once we were dry, our tummies were full and we googled a few addresses, we stopped at a camping store for some water proofing spray. I had already sprayed the tent while in NYC. I had also glued all the seams and patched all the tears while we were staying at The Little Hut. But, there was still a little bit of water finding its way in through the material we lay on.

We also stopped at a KTM shop for some advice. Rocky wasn't exactly sure why the motorcycle was experiencing troubles, but he suspected that we may need a regulator. Unfortunately, none were in stock and we were told that it could possibly be at least a week for one to be delivered. We didn't want to wait that long. Especially since we weren't positive that it was the regulator causing us bike problems. Instead, we left with some chain lube and cleaner.


We had spent all day in Reykjavik, and then we searched for a place to camp along the coast. The sky threatened more rain, so we hoped to find a place that would provide us with some shelter. Right along the beach was a tiny facility with an overhang that could keep us dry for the night. There was a set of stairs to its side that led to the top of the overhang, giving us a beautiful view of the arctic waves. Sounds perfect? It could have been, if it wasn't a sewage plant. Even the shittiest place in Iceland was awesome. What made me laugh more, were the two employees that showed up for their shift in the morning. They asked us for pictures because they recognized us from the newspaper!

We began our way out of the city and my hopes of the weather getting better were quickly diminishing. It was cold, really cold. Rain was pouring down on us, but worst, was the wind. When we stopped for gas, the attendant warned us that the road ahead was known for very strong winds. I was told that it would get better once we reached the top of the hill but I couldn't help having doubt. The wind was pulling and pushing us all over the road. After driving for about 20 km, we reached the top and I was shocked to see some blue sky and sunshine in the distance. We stopped for a photo and noticed another rider was doing the same. Tam was from Whales he was exploring solo on a KLR. I really enjoyed seeing other riders. Most adventurers we saw were in huge Unimog campers. These things were massive. The wheels were more than half my size, and seeing them made me feel brave.

We continued towards visiting a waterfall and we must have rode past at least half a dozen of them on our way. We spent the rest of the day riding in and out of rain, and fighting the wind. The weather was very temperamental and seemed to change frequently. I felt a strong sense of relief once we entered the Hvalfjörður tunnel. I was so cold that I honestly wouldn't have minded staying in that warm pocket of exhaust fumes. Even though the tunnel is among the longest underwater road tunnels in the world (5,770 m or 18,930 ft. long), we were back into the cold much too soon. All I could do was close my eyes and imagine the heat of the fireplace in the cozy, Little Hut by the Sea. We continued driving for a bit but we finally found a park that we thought would be a good place to camp. We set up the tent under a tree, and finally warmed our hands and feet.


With everything ready and packed to leave in the morning, the motorcycle refused to start, once again. We were becoming very frustrated. I walked up and down streets asking everyone for help but nobody had cables or understood what I was saying. We were in a small town and English wasn't as popular. I found it very difficult to communicate and resorted to inventing my own sign language. I was relieved when it worked and I finally found help.

For the rest of the day, we rode around gawking at the scenery. Iceland is a very mountainous island with a strange landscape. It was so ridiculously beautiful that we were constantly stopping every few minutes to take another picture. I thoroughly enjoyed every stop. Because Iceland is a volcanic island, there are many beautiful lava fields covered in moss and lichen. To my surprise, they were also covered with wild blueberries. Every time Rocky was taking pictures, I was filling us up bags (and my mouth) full of deliciousness.

We eventually arrived in a town called Grundarfjörður and stopped at a gas station for a cup of coffee. We discovered that N1 Gas Stations have free WiFi and good, cheap coffee. We were especially happy when we also found out about unlimited refills. After warming up and relaxing for a while, we tried to come up with a plan for the night. We were continuing to have problems with the motorcycle starting and we were afraid to camp too far from public in case we needed a boost.

Adjacent from the gas station was a small Viking hut. It looked as though it was placed there as a type of attraction or selling booth. I had asked one of the guys working in the store what it was used for and he said it had been recently built for the community and occasionally used by the locals to perform skits and plays. I encouraged Rocky for us to stay there for the night. I thought that, not only would it be a perfect place to keep us dry and warm, but it was also a super awesome Viking hut!!


As I set up the tent, Rocky searched outside of The N1 Gas Station for an electrical plug. He hoped that if he plugged in the battery and let it charge for the night that maybe, just maybe, the bike would start in the morning. As he was looking, he met a lady named Silla. She worked at the grocery store that's attached to the N1. Silla offered to take home the battery and return it charged the next morning. The first thing we did when we woke up was check the electric and cable connections. With the fully charged battery installed, the motorcycle still refused to start. Unsure of what the problem was, we decided that we wouldn't pack up our belongings because we would be staying in Grundarfjörður for one more night. We spent the entire day sitting in the N1 Gas Station as Rocky searched the Internet for any help he could find.

Later that day, Rocky was approached by a guy demanding rent money. His name was Hjortur and he was kidding of course. Along with some help, Hjortur had built the Viking Hut. We apologized for staying there, we didn't realize it was private property. We told him that we were experiencing some bike troubles and we planned on returning to Reykjavik in the morning. Hjortur was very understanding and gave us permission to enjoy another night there. When we asked him for a picture, he said yes but asked as if we minded waiting a few minutes. He returned momentarily, fully dressed in his Viking costume. That made my day. I absolutely adored him for it!

We asked someone for a boost in the morning and rode back towards Reykjavik. It is the only large city in Iceland and we were afraid to continue north and around the rest of the island without figuring out what was wrong with the motorcycle. When Gylfi Jon heard that we were coming back in his direction, he invited us to join him at his home for dinner. I'm not one to turn down a meal, but I was especially excited to see him and Anna again. I was also happy that we were going to have the chance to meet his son Sveinn, and his girlfriend as well. The moment I met Ingibjorg, I immediately noticed the strong resemblance between her and Anna. She is extremely pretty, intelligent and funny. Her and Gylfi Jon make a lovely couple. They also make a fantastic meal, but I wasn't surprised. I already knew that Gylfi Jon was passionate about cooking. It was nice to spend time together with everyone.


After a few hours, it was getting late and we exchanged hugs for one last time. Baldur didn't live far and had mentioned that we could camp out at his place while him and Hulda were visiting the West Fjords. It made it much easier for us to take apart the bike to try and figure out what exactly might be wrong with it. The following day, we purchased some contact cleaner and soldered the electrical connections we had previously repaired. That seemed to have helped because the motorcycle was starting at every attempt. Baldur and Hulda came home that night and brought with them the most blueberries I have ever seen in my life. They said that the West Fjords is the best place to pick them because they are everywhere. We all sat at the table sharing stories and eating many bowls filled with blueberries and cream. No matter what troubles we had faced in Iceland, Gylfi Jon and Baldur were always there for us, bringing smiles to our faces.

The motorcycle started in the morning and we took that as a good sign. Once again, we headed north. Everyone in Iceland says that the weather is very unpredictable because it can change drastically, very quickly. I began to believe that the weather was very predictable - high winds, rain and a chance of sunshine. Repeat. But it really didn't matter, it made the world around us look like as if it was sparkling. All of the colours surrounding us were intensified as the hydrated earth was kissed by the sun. We were even rewarded with a full rainbow as we rode past fields of wild horses. I was mesmerized, absolutely captivated by every kilometer we passed.

It was late and the sun had already gone down by the time we stopped in a town named Dalvik. The groceries stores had all closed and the only place open was a gas station. Luckily we had arrived just before they closed because we were really hungry. The ladies working behind the counter must have assumed that because they were kind enough to keep the kitchen open to serve us. We ordered a large plate of french fries to split between us, but we received a heaping platter. It was literally a platter. Rocky and I couldn't stop giggling. There were enough french fries to feed a party. We tried our best to eat as much as possible but we had to give up at approximately 2000 calories each. With a very full tummy, we slept well that night.


We rode to Akureyri in the morning and stopped to check out Godifoss, another very beautiful waterfall. We then headed to Lake Mývatn where the surrounding landscape was dominated by volcanic landforms. For the first time since arriving in Iceland, there were, what I would consider, many mosquitos. I just found out that they were actually midges. Tiny little fly like bugs that were creepily trying to get at my eyeballs. It was the first time I had noticed insects. I hadn't even seen a single ant during our entire time on the island.

Our plan was to visit another waterfall by the end of the day. Dettifoss is said to be the largest, most powerful waterfall in Europe. We rode down a gravel rode for what seemed like forever and finally arrived at what I considered a eerie-looking place. The area was very grey with many rocks and the water was dark with sediment. It was so powerful that I felt as though the earth was vibrating my entire body. We considered spending the night near by but we decided to camp closer to the main road. It was another long ride on a gravel road. Even once we reached the tarac we rarely saw anyone drive past. We continued riding through the barren land until we had just enough sunlight to set up camp for the night. I truly felt as though we were in the middle of nowhere, but we weren't alone. Sound asleep during the middle of the night, I woke up counting sheep. Bhaa, bhaaa, bhaa. It was the cutest sound I have ever awoken to.

During our ride through the northern regions, we had seen sheep everywhere. They roam around freely in the fields, infusing themselves by eating wild thyme and blueberries all day long. It is no wonder why they are so irresistibly delicious. But how could I ever think of sheep like that ever again? I grew a deep affection for them after realizing how extremely adorable they were. They often wandered their way along the roads but they would quickly panic and flee the moment they heard the motorcycle approach them. It was really funny to see them transform from calm, cool and collected grazers, to frantic, little maniacs, running on their skinny little legs as their chubby butts waddled. I just love them!


We had made our way past northern Iceland and headed towards the town of Egilsstaðir, on the Eastern side of the island. For the next few days, we would stay relevantly close to the area because our ferry was waiting near by. We ventured on a thin gravel road that led us up a mountain of rock and silver moss. The wind frightened me as I starred down the steep edges. We continued riding and eventually found a soccer field to pitch our tent. We set up the tent on a wooden deck that was attached to a sports shed, and I was glad we did. It rained heavily all night and into the morning. Even though I had sprayed some protection on the tent while staying at the Viking hut, I didn't trust how well it would work to keep us dry.

It was my birthday and we planned on visiting one of the coolest places I have ever seen. Located on the edge of Vatnajökull National Park, situated at the head of the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier, is a large glacial lake filled with luminous blue chunks of ice that were beautifully streaked with black sediment. 10% of Iceland is covered in glaciers and the are quickly melting. We spent hours starring at the floating, icebergs. A few of them had drifting onto the shore. I didn't care how cold I was, I felt that I had to sit on one. Not many people can say that they've sat on an iceberg for their birthday.

A music video was being filmed a few feet away from us and I felt bad for the artist who was under-dressed and shivering cold. The sky was covered in clouds and I could see snow in the distance atop the glacier. Rocky and I decided it was getting late and much too cold to be hanging out much longer. A few of the locals also approached us as we were preparing to leave and warned us to get out of the weather. Rocky got on the motorcycle and I shouldn't have been so surprised when it wouldn't start. The crew that was filming the video came over to offer their help and they brought us hot cups of coffee from the large trailer they were traveling in. Alfred, Raggi, Villi and Simmi were extremely kind. While Villi showed Rocky how to bypass the start relay with a screwdriver, Alfred, Simmi and Raggi brought me birthday cake and everyone began singing to me. It was very unexpected! It completely warmed my heart and made me feel all fuzzy.


It was already dark and we were trying to ride as far away from the glacier as possible. It was too late to bother finding a room for the night, so we rode east to the town that we stopped in earlier that day, and found a small field to camp in. The next morning was sunny, and we rode back to the town of Egilsstaðir. We decided to have a relaxing day to work on the blog and we camped out in a nearby field, that night. When we woke up in the morning, we planned to visit a Dam, located in the highlands. It was freezing cold and extremely windy. The area was beautiful and desolate but the wind was so ridiculously strong that we were riding on a forty-degree angle. When we finally reached the dam I was worried that Rocky was going to cross it. Imagine dark grey water, thrashing violently. Waves were splashing on the narrow road that separated the raging water from the ridiculous 193 m (633 ft.) drop. I was super scared but Rocky was apparently feeling very adventurous. I was clenching my mouth shut even more than I had that entire ride. It felt as though my teeth were all about to crack. Once we actually made it to the other side, I was relieved to be alive. We stopped for a minute so that I could prevent from peeing in my pants, and then Rocky decided to turned back around. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. The only comfort I had was in knowing that we were turning around and exiting the highlands.

Half way back to Egilsstaðir, we turned down a gravel rode that led us to a guesthouse. We decided to stop there for a warm drink, and also to relax our cold bones. We met a few other travelers doing the same. They were shocked that we arrived by motorcycle as they complained of the drive they experienced on their trailer homes. My jaw hurt from all the pressure but my tongue was feeling strange. I ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror and I was shocked to see that my tongue was swollen and purple from sucking on it so hard. I was really glad when we finally left the highlands and returned back to the same spot that we had camped the night before.

We had two days left before our ferry was scheduled to leave. We decided to relax all day and work on the blog. We were hanging out at an N1 when we were surprised to see Tam, our friend from Whales. Even though it had only been less than two weeks since we had met him, it felt as though it was so long ago. It was great to hear about Tams journey. He had ridden through Iceland’s interior, where the roads are all gravel and the terrain is difficult to traverse. Sometimes I feel guilty for having joined Rocky on this trip. I know that if he was alone he would love a challenge like that. I don't crave that same excitement while riding passenger.

It was our last night in Iceland and we were camped at the same spot as the past couple of nights. We were sad to be leaving this magical place but Iceland wasn't letting us leave without one last surprise. As I stepped outside of our tent that night, I was awarded with something I had always wished to see, northern lights. The sky was glowing green as it danced above me, and I immediately screamed for Rocky to come outside. It was the first time that either one of us had witnessed such a an astronomical phenomena, it was a real treat. I stared at the sky and took a moment to reminisce all the beauty Iceland possessed. What a fantastic country! It is definitely a place that we will have to visit again in the future.

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Having problems starting the motorcycle, we flagged down a local and got a boost and were finally back on the road. It was August 20th, the already cool and wet summer was drawing to a close, and we still had much of Iceland so see.


After saying goodbye to our friends in Keflavík, our first stop was the blue Lagoon. "The Blue Lagoon geothermal spa is one of the most visited attractions in Iceland. The spa is located in a lava field in Grindavík on the Reykjanes Peninsula, southwestern Iceland." At roughly CA$110 for two people for the basic package, it was an expensive attraction to see, but it turned out to be well worth the cost.


After spending a few nights camped out in Reykjavík, we decided to visit a popular waterfall in the southwestern part of the country, called Seljalandsfoss. Just outside of the capital city, were ran into an intense rain and wind storm. The winds were so strong that I pulled over at a gas station to decide whether or not to push through it. Not wanting to miss this waterfalls, I opted to continue, and, 20km up the road, the wind eased and the rain stopped. We parked the motorcycle at a rest area with a panoramic view, and met Tam, a fellow motorcycle rider who was from Whales.


The skies cleared up and we rode for two hours into a strong headwind before reaching Seljalandsfoss.


Seljalandsfoss


After visiting Seljalandsfoss, we turned around and rode back towards Reykjavík with the wind at our backs.


There are beautiful waterfalls everywhere you go in Iceland, so many that, eventually, you get use to seeing them and almost tend to take them for granted.


In the morning, we encountered more electrical problems with a bike that refused to start. Paula flagged down some locals for a boost, and we eventually headed north, along the western coast of the country. The day was filled with scattered showers and fog. In the afternoon, Paula and I stopped along the road near a lava field to find wild blueberries growing everywhere. While stuffing our faces, we filled up a few plastic baggies so we would also have something to snack on later.


We stopped several times that day, but, since the morning, the bike didn't have any problems starting.


Later that day, we stopped at gas station in the town of Grundarfjörður for coffee and to warm up. After a few hours, we decided to head out. Once again, the bike refused to start. Since it was late in the afternoon, we decided to find a place to camp so that I could have some time to try to figure things out. Conveniently, right across the street from the gas station, we found this Viking hut to camp in. It was right in the center of town, but it seemed a perfect place to spend the night and keep dry from the rains.


That evening, a gas station employee, named Silla, saw that I had hooked up my battery charger to the exterior gas station electrical outlet that supplied power to the air compressor. Silla, whose husband is a motorcyclist, offered to take our battery home and charge it through the night. Silla brouhgt a fully-charged batter back the next day, but, the bike still refused to start. We spend that day in Grundarfjörður working on the motorcycle and trying to figure out what the problem was.


Later that day, a man arrived at our hut demanding rent money. He was kidding, of course. Hjotur was his name, and the hut we were staying in was his. He was a member of a group that perform Viking re-enactments. I asked him if I could take his picture. He told me to wait a few minutes, then rushed off in his car, only to return ten minutes later wearing full Viking garb, wielding and axe and holding a shield.


Paula and I spent another night at the Viking hut, and, unable to find the source of the starting issue, we decided to get a boost and return to Reykjavik to look for a new motorcycle battery. Upon hearing of our return to the area, Gylfi Jon invited Paula and I over for dinner. Gylfi lives just outside of Reykjavik with his girlfriend, Ingibjörg and her daughter, Anna.


Paula and I spent the following day in Reykjavik, working on the motorcycle. Looking over the wiring diagram for the bike, I found that the wires that melted against the hot exhaust when we were in Canada were involved in the battery-charging circuit. We carefully re-spliced these wires, this time adding solder to the connections. This seemed to do the trick. We were camped in the yard at Baldur's house. Baldur was the journalist who we met through Gylfi Jon when we fist arrived in Iceland. After two nights and a day of working on the bike, Paula and I headed back on our trip around Iceland.


The Sun Setting On Northern Iceland


Full Rainbow


Sunset Over Skagafjörður


Skagafjörður Panorama


Paula Near Skagafjörður

That night, we camped in the town of Dalvik in northern Iceland, and the following day we visited Goðafoss.


After leaving Goðafoss, we rode east to Lake Mývatn, and then north.


Near Lake Mývatn


Asbyrgi Canyon


Late in the day, we rode for almost an hour down a gravel road to the eastern shore of Dettifoss.


Dettifoss is the waterfalls featured in the opening scene of the movie, Prometheus.


Dettifoss


Paula At Dettifoss


After leaving Dettifoss, we traveled another hour down the gravel road to the main road. Witht he sun setting and nowhere near a town, we decided to stop at the side of the road and camp for the night. During the night, Paula heard sheep roaming and grazing just outside of our tent.


In the middle of nowhere


We packed up our camp and rode to the eastern part of the country.


Paula In Eastern Iceland


Later that day, we took the mountain pass from Egilsstadir that leads to the southern part of Iceland. We stopped along the way to pick more wild blueberries, and discovered a beautiful waterfall.


Riding Over The Mountain Pass


The winds in Iceland were some of the strongest winds we had ever ridden in.


Befufjörður Mountain Pass


The following day, we rode along the southern coast of Iceland, battling extreme winds. We were in the area near Iceland's largest glacier.


Riding Towards The Glacier Lagoon


Near the end of a long day, we arrived at The Glacier Lagoon.


It was Paula's birthday, and we thought that being in this place wasn't a bad way to spend a birthday. Leaving The Glacier Lagoon, the bike, again, refused to start. This time, it was different. When I pushed the start button, the engine didn't turn over at all. I suspected a problem with the start relay. The was a film crew nearby shooting a Japanese music video. Seeing that I was working on the motorcycle, a few crew members came over to help. After hearing that it was Paula's birthday, we were invited into their trailer. Paula was given a cup-cake with a candle, and everyone sang her happy birthday.


In the end, we found that the motorcycle's start relay was dead. We had to start the bike using a screwdriver to jump the start relay and apply battery voltage directly to the starter motor.


Since we no longer had a motorcycle that could be properly started, Paula and I decided to head back to the eastern part of Iceland. We were scheduled to sail from Seyðisfjörður in four days, and we thought that it would be a good idea to rest for a few days, and do as little riding as possible until we could replace the start relay, which we would have to do when we arrived in Germany.


Riding Back Over The Pass


Paula and I spent the days before sailing from Iceland camped outside of a gas station, behind some bushes in Egilsstaðir. While there, we were surprised by Tam, whom we had met ten days earlier. Tam had recognized out motorcycle parked outside of the gas station and stopped to say hello.


On our last night in Iceland, we were surprised and amazed by the show the northern lights put on for us. The following day, we packed up our belongings and rode to Seyðisfjörður, where we would board the ferry to Denmark.

Denamrk & Germany
 

September 4, 2013 - September 14, 2013

http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg It was a short, beautiful ride, to the small town of Seyðisfjörður, in Eastern Iceland. We had booked a one-way trip on Norröna, a Smyril Line Ferry traveling to Hirtshals, in Denmark. I wasn't looking forward to the voyage. The only thing that excited me was that we would be making a stop at the Faroe Islands.

It takes three nights and four days to reach Denmark from Iceland. Since I am very susceptible to motion sickness, I was terrified. The thought of being trapped on a boat, while traveling through the vast Arctic Ocean, feeling dizzy and nauseous for that long gave me anxiety. I usually make an effort to avoid taking medications, but there was no way that I was about to even consider that option. I took a pill as soon as I was supposed to, and continued doing so every 12 hours. For the next few days I would feel heavily medicated. My ears would feel slightly plugged and I would be very sleepy.

All sorts of vehicles were waiting to get on board. After parking the motorcycle, and securely strapping her in, we grabbed our bags and began to squeeze our way out of the parking area. After going down a few floors, the air felt damp and limited. It also reeked of chlorine. When we found our room, I was glad that we were the first to arrive. Six beds were cramped together in 10ft. x 10ft. area. After some thought, we took dibs on two of the top bunks. They didn't feel as enclosed. I was a bit more relieved once I found out that we were sharing the room with only three others. We would have a bit more air to breathe.


After a short tour around the ferry, I felt exhausted, and my brain welcomed the shut down. Our beds were nothing but a thin plastic mat on a steel shelf. Luckily, we had a blanket with us, as well as our sleeping bag. Otherwise we would have had to share a bed to keep warm. It wasn't what most people would consider comfortable, but I fell into a deep sleep, quickly. A few hours later I awoke to a loud, deep snore. I tossed, turned and struggling to stay asleep. The repetitive snorts and groans tortured me until I envisioned slightly extending my foot to kick the stranger into silence. Instead, I used my energy to find a pair of earplugs, buried deep inside my purse. The ocean must've been rough because I felt us sway back and forth. Luckily, the medication worked its magic and I was rocked back to a deep sleep.

The following day took some effort to adjust. We were given a free meal at lunchtime but I found it difficult to eat as the ferry tilted from side to side. I was surprised that I managed to keep all of my food down. We spent the day wandering around the ferry and watching stuff on the computer. Even though I slept at least 12 hours the night before, I could've slept all day. A coffee would have helped to wake me up a little but a tiny cup was being sold for 16 Danish Krone, which converts to approximately $3.25 Canadian dollars. I shouldn't have been surprised. Everything was expensive on the ferry.

We had another early night, and once again I woke up to loud snoring. I should've known to put my earplugs in earlier, but I'm not accustomed to dealing with that sort of situation. Thank goodness Rocky isn't a snorer! I don't like any noises disrupting my sleep, but snoring doesn't just wake me up, it awakens an insanity inside of me.


The ocean was much calmer that night and continued to be so in the morning. Breakfast was much easier to swallow. It was early afternoon when the ferry came to a stop at the Faroe Islands. We docked in the Capital, Tórshavn, on one of the larger Islands, named Streymoy. Since the ferry wouldn't be departing for five hours, Rocky and I went exploring. We were immediately greeted with a colourful display of architecture. Many of the houses were painted in red, black, blue, yellow, and some of them had turf roofs. The Faroe Islands are known to be one of the cloudiest places on earth, but the sun decided to shine bright that day. We walked the streets past many boutiques and overpriced shops in searched of a coffee shop. It was very disappointing to find out that the coffee was much cheaper on the ferry.

When we got back on the ferry, we found a few friends outside on the deck. We joined them under the overhang, and enjoyed the fresh air. I didn't drink because I was heavily medicated and to scared to puke. But, everyone else passed around a couple of bottles. After a late night, we woke up early in the morning, excited to arrive in mainland Europe. Getting off the Ferry was a nightmare. All of the vehicles were packed together like sardines in a can. It was nearly impossible to squeeze through with our bags. There were times when I had to lift my bags over my head or kick them under hitches. I did the limbo under mirrors and maneuvered around as if I were in a maze. If that wasn't tough enough, a bunch of morons who had already found their vehicles, were waiting inside of them with their motors running. It shocked me that so many people could possibly think it's ok to have their exhaust poisoning the air inside of a tightly confined ferry. By the time we had finally found the motorcycle we were sweaty, tired and lightheaded. We still had to load everything on and change into our gear.

Getting off of that ferry was a complete relief. I was worried that we would still have to cross some sort of customs, but borders are invisible between European countries. I had arranged for us to stay with a guy named Bo, from Couchsurfing. He lived with a woman named Tove, her husband Jens, their niece Rebecca, and Bessie, a sweet black Labrador. Unfortunately, we didn't get to meet Jens, he was traveling for work at the moment.

When we arrived at the beautiful countryside home, in the town of Selling, near Århus, Tove welcomed us inside. We weren't the only foreigners visiting. Mayuko was a girl who had traveled in from Japan. She was hilariously adorable. We arrived in perfect timing. Bo had hot tea and baked treats prepared, the moment we arrived. Everybody was really nice and very welcoming. After we were given a tour of the property, we rode down the street to pick up some vegetables from the local farm. Bo and Tove prepared a huge delicious meal and we were introduced to Rebecca and her friend Frederikke. A Danish dish named Frikadeller, accompanied by a few different vegetables, was made for us. It was fried ground meat in the shape of a thick hamburger patty, but it tastes a bit different. Dinner was delicious.

After eating, Rebecca and Frederikke invited us to a street party, in the city of Århus. We gladly accepted the invitation. Tove dropped us off in the city and our first mission was finding a convenience store. Rebecca and Frederikke wanted to pick up a bottle of rum and pop. They said that we could drink as we wander. Really?! In Canada, it is only legal to purchase liquor or beer in stores that only sell liquor or beer. And, drinking it outside in public without the confines of some sort of barrier isn't legal either. I was really enjoying the freedom of walking through the crowd, enjoying a stiff drink, and checking out the sites.


Århus is a very pretty city, built around a wide river that was once a port. We found ourselves a place to sit, along cemented steps that faced the water. The area was lined with bars and cafés. There were people everywhere, either sitting in a patio, or by the river. They even had big, clear, plastic bubbles that float in the water. People would pay to go inside the bubbles to roll, jump around in, or try to crash into each other with. It looked like a lot of fun. The entire area was a fun place to be, and I imagine it would be a great place to spend an evening even if there was no street festival.

The following day was nice and sunny. Rocky and I walked with Bessie around the property. The country home was located on a great piece of land, beside a stream. We followed the water until we reached an open field with horses. These three gorgeous creatures were massive. I don't believe I have ever seen horses that tall in my life. Bessie got frightened and ran back home while Rocky and I attempted to feed them some grass. I have to admit, I was a bit intimidated. I felt like I was a small insect as they surrounded me.

Before evening, Rocky and I picked up some groceries and prepared a meal to share with our Danish friends. We spent our last evening in Denmark, indoors, sharing stories, photos, and chunks of chocolate. Staying with Bo, Tove and Rebecca was a perfect introduction to the hospitality in mainland Europe. We all exchanged our goodbyes that night, because we wouldn't get the chance to see anybody in the morning. After a comfortable night sleep, Rocky and I packed up motorcycle and rode out in the rain.

Our next destination was in northwestern Germany! We were on our way to a town called Hude, in the state of Lower Saxony. Since it was a far ride, it was a perfect excuse to use the A1 Autobahn.

Germany's Autobahns are more than 12,000 km's of road that are famously known in the world for having no speed limits. Cars were flying past us at speeds exceeding 180 kmh. At one point during our ride, a car drove past us so fast that the wind pressure it created against my body gave me a good shake and quickly woke me up. Yup, I must've fallen asleep on the back of the bike. I don't understand how it is possible, but it wasn't the first time that I caught myself sleeping while riding. What the heck?! That's so dangerous.


We finally showed up in Hude, a peaceful town of gorgeous farmland. I had arranged for us to stay with a man named Paul and he greeted us at his door with the best introduction ever! Paul wasn't sure at an exact time we'd be arriving. He had just applied a thick mask of clay on his face just before we rang his doorbell. I was confused at first glance and wasn't sure what I was seeing. I didn't want to rudely stare at what I thought might have been a skin condition. My curiosity was finally satisfied when he giggled with embarrassment and told me he had just applied the mud to his face.

Paul was a very interesting character. His home was filled with fragrant scents and much laughter. He was silly, kind and very laid back. We spent the following morning with him, picking up some groceries. The cost of food is incredibly cheap in Germany. Later that afternoon, Rocky and I drove out to a KTM dealership, located in Bremen city. Paul offered us his car so that we didn't have to ride in the rain. Rocky had ordered a couple of parts for the bike, to try and fix the problem we had been facing throughout Iceland. We needed a start relay and we were also picking up a clamp for the right side mirror. We had gone without a mirror since it broke off when we were in Canada.

When we arrived back at Paul's house, he prepared us an authentic German dish. I have always thought Schnitzel was delicious, but it seemed to taste better in Germany. A piece of boneless meat is thinned with a meat tenderizer, coated with flour, salt, pepper, beaten eggs and bread crumbs, it is then fried. If you've never tried it, I suggest you do. It is a quick, simple but tasty way to prepare a meat dish.

We had planned on leaving the next morning but the weather was cloudy and rainy. Paul invited us to stay another night. Rocky and I fixed the motorcycle and once we were done, Paul drove us to the grocery store for another good meal at a great price. Staying with Paul was great. We spent our last night hanging out in his living room, listening to music and taking turns playing different instruments.

Early the next morning, the weather was perfect, and we prepared to leave Hude. We rode through the flat German land, past many dairy farms and fields of sunflowers. We eventually stopped at the edge of a huge parking lot and decided it was a good spot to sleep for the night. We rode past many small towns the next morning, and we took a ferry to cross the Elbe River. The Rathen Ferry is a small passenger/vehicle cable ferry. It was a very short ride but we both found it interesting to ride on a ferry that is propelled by the current of the water. The ferry is attached to a floating cable, which is anchored firmly in the riverbed upstream. The ferry is then positioned into the current, causing the force of the current to swing the ferry across the river on the cable.

It was a very pretty drive towards Dresden, Germany. When we arrived in the city, we searched for free WiFi but failed miserably. We spent the entire day riding through heavy traffic, unable to park near any place that may offer an Internet connection. We eventually discovered that because of certain laws in Germany, it is nearly impossible to find an open connection. German law holds the operator of a public hotspot liable for everything its users do online. Even once we found a McDonalds, free internet is given only if you have a serviced telephone. You must provide your phone number in order to receive a text message that contains a code. My service was disconnected after leaving Canada. We rely heavily on the Internet, as most travelers do. It is used to keep us in contact with friends/family, we use it to post/write the blog, and we send out Couchsurfing requests and or respond to messages. It was a huge inconvenience that made Germany an annoying country to travel through.


Too late to do any site seeing, we rode out of the city of Dresden. We bought dinner at a grocery store and noticed that the outskirts of the parking lot offered a beautiful view. We decide to camp at the far corner of the lot, where we could stare past a cornfield and see the city in the distance. Later in the night, we discovered it was a popular place to hang out, as many locals parked nearby.

We were about to cross into Czech Republic and I felt like we were rushing. Had the Internet been accessible, I think we would have stayed in Germany much longer. There were many things I liked about the country. It seemed to be very well structured, organized, engineered and controlled. I couldn't help but notice a resemblance between Germany and Rocky. I think that Germans might even love adventure as much as him. People (men) were very enthusiastic about our travels. We were constantly given the thumbs up by other motorists. Every time we stopped at a grocery store, Rocky would go inside and I would keep an eye on the motorcycle. The attention that it received was constant. Most men would start examining the bike from afar. They'd check out its heavy load, and then peek at the license plate. By the time they got around to noticing me standing near by, every one of them looked intensely confused. Most used different sounds or gestures to question my ability to handle such a large bike and heavy load. I tried my best to let them know I wasn't alone. It always made me chuckle.

In the morning we packed up and parked out front of the grocery store. A few patio tables were set up beside a BBQ truck and we decided to grab a bite before getting on the road. I approached the man behind the counter and after discovering he didn't speak English, I used gestures to ask for permission to see what was under the container lids. Since I didn't know what the German names signified, I figured it was easier to visually see what was being offered, and point to my choice of options. That didn't work out to well. He responded by rudely raising his voice while reading the menu list at me. The German language already sounds harsh, but to be yelled at in German, is super scary. Instead, we opted to eat grocery food that morning. Although I really liked Germany, I was glad to be leaving the country that day.



http://notallthosewhowanderarelost.c...tar1-36x36.jpg

Leaving Iceland

Docked At The Faroe Islands

Arriving In The Faroe Islands

Tórshavn

The Faroe Islands

Lighthouse

Paula In The Faroe Islands

Dinner With Friends

Street Party In Denmark

Danish Horse

Rebecca, Tove, Paula & Bo

Grocery Shopping With Paul

Paula & Paul In Hude

Camped In Dresden

Hi
When will you be in Spain?