On March 3rd, 2010 I arrived in Ushuaia, Argentina and ended my journey to the southernmost city in the world.

On July 25th, I left for Prudhoe Bay on the north shore of Alaska to begin a solo bicycle journey 15,000 miles south along the Pan-American Highway to Tierra Del Fuego, the bottom of South America. I traveled through the vast Alaskan wilderness, into Canada and crossed into the forests of northern Washington. From there I followed the coast down, all the way through the deserts of southern Baja, where I took a ferry to the mainland. I continued to follow the coast south through the rainforests of Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama. Then came South America: Colombia, Ecuador, the endless deserts of Peru, Northern Chile and then finally Argentina. I will ended in Ushuaia and the bottom of the Americas.

This ride is a reminder of what can be accomplished through perseverance and a little hard work. It’s a reminder of what we as people are capable of, of what the human mind, body and spirit can achieve. I hope that I can help people realize that while it may take time, and it may be harsh and lonely at times, we can make our lives how we dream them to be. I do not want to be guilty of owning a life devoid of any living. Comfort and convenience are not synonymous with happiness!

For some reason I am under the impression that I will find both myself and God somewhere along this road. Maybe I won’t find either, but I must look! I want to allow the light of introspection a pure and undiluted chance to examine my soul. I have found greater value in thoughts born in solitude than those that spring from the fray of ordinary life. I hope this trip will be the beginning to a life full of experience, beauty and understanding. I don’t ever want to forget the way the world felt when I was a child: magical and huge, full of possibility and hope. I won’t let go of that. I am an artist at heart, and this, I hope, will be my first great work.

I am riding to raise awareness for 'Acirfa,’ a non-profit organization which provides quality bikes to the people of Zambia, giving them the means to help themselves, rather than depend on charity. A bicycle changes the life of a Zambian in ways that are difficult for Americans to imagine, allowing doctors to see more patients, parents to make a living and teachers to get to school.

To clear the air and clear your head, ride a bike once a week!

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Sunday, November 8, 2009

Acapulco briefly

Nov 8, 10:30 pm.
I dont think Acapulco has a heart. There is no principal location. It is a sometimes glitzy sometimes grimy smear
along a spectacular stretch of coast. The miles beyond the city are
choked with buildings like the mold that strings off of a piece of
food left on the ground. The painted wooden shacks and half finished
cinderblock cubes crowned with rebar spires grow and stack and
magically transform into sudden towers whose bases are tended by men
with combed hair and clean white shirts. The highrise buildings shoot
up between dark clubs with jungle decorations and walls of alcohol and
music so loud that it would be illegal in the U.S.
This runs for miles, from the docks where the cruise ships unload,
across the flat sandy beach until where the cliffs begin again on the
southern side of the bay. The air is hot and humid so that your skin
becomes sticky and air conditioning feels surprising. The beach is
covered in patches of plastic chairs and plapas which are dense and
full of people selling jewelry and alcohol. The entire area is blasted
through with heavy club music from a loudspeaker facing the water.
Speedoes abound. The locals selling are aggressive, and all of them
can set you up with a jet ski ride, a dive from the bungee tower
overhead, a drink and a fake watch before you reach the water.
Everyone selling this stuff is also part time pimp and drug dealer.