The Ride to Patagonia — I woke up cradled in the coffin-like shape of the sunken hostel bunk bed. The Argentine next to me was still snoring after a long night spent on his phone chamuyo-ing (flirting) with his latest female interest. A shower always marks the beginning of a good day. Hot water, a…

The Ride to Patagonia — August 13, 2022 — Peru I hit the road again after a brief hiatus in Lima, Peru where I worked, rested, waited out more of this winter weather down here, and planned the next month of southward travel. This journal entry was jotted down while waiting for my chicken and rice in a man’s home-turned-restaurant…

Ask the hard questions — In the distance, a rare fog was rolling over Santa Monica. A nearly new and yet years old notebook rested on my bulky metal desk. …

Ask the hard questions — Part 1/8 in a series of posts walking down the pathway from wondering if I should even exist to taking control of my life. #1 Ask the Hard Questions Sept. 2017 — Los Angeles, California Sitting in a Starbucks just outside Brentwood, I was shivering. The combo of cranked AC to combat the LA heat…

Hello, everyone - Today I write to you from a somewhat fancier than usual cafe appealing to the local foreign surfer crowd in the tiny town of Montañita, Ecuador. I stopped drinking my iced coffee after a few sips due to a bittersweet taste I don’t normally associate with ice coffee… or anything…

Apparently riding alone from America to Patagonia on a motorcycle wasn’t hard enough. …

Stuck in Medellin… Not 3 days after successfully entering this beautiful country, someone in a small customs office in Cartagena, Colombia decided to prematurely terminate my temporary vehicle permit for my motorcycle. I imagine the terrible act being done with a slight hesitation before an absurdly unrealisticly large stamp was slammed down with…

#1. Hide your cash I got robbed in the mountains of Guatemala by some men with angry, dirty faces. They surrounded my motorcycle and wouldn’t let me leave. Lesson 1: always keep your cash and valuables spread out between different pockets. It was a day just like any other, riding along some road in…

Back on the bike Spending a week in Panama city without the bike, waiting another week in Cartagena Colombia for it to arrive, and then the several-day process of processing the bike and paperwork and port bureaucracy to finally have the bike back between my legs and ever-flattening buttcheeks (not between them, below them…