Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry – Jack Kerouac. Disclaimer: I will use the term Americas referring to the whole continent. Americas to me is the whole of North America, Central America and South America. Where I come from in school you learn there are five continents like the Olympic Rings, one is America or Americas. It’s been almost a month since I arrived in Ushuaia, the world’s southmost city in, in Patagonia and the point of arrival of my crossing of the American continent from tip to
Foreword: I usually never write about my routes because I find VERY boring blog posts that say: I got up at X hour, pedalled for X Km, stopped for lunch here, water supply there. However, I’m gonna write about a route that might offer an alternative way out (or in) from Villa O’Higgins other than the $50 boat ride. The data on this route is scarce and there is lot of misleading information out there. Boat owners in Villa O’Higgins prefer to scare people away from Paso Mayer for obvious
Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting: Holy shit…what a ride! – Hunter S. Thompson What a crazy story. A year has passed already since 13 August 2015 when in the early afternoon of a normal rainy day I left Prudhoe Bay/Deadhorse on the Arctic Ocean to enter kilometre zero of the Dalton Highway, a spot considered to mark the beginning of the Panamerican Highway. It’s easy to indulge fully in a
If you’re not facing fear every day, you’re getting weaker, not stronger. – Tony Robbins A few days ago I was on a truck surrounded by Indians of La Guajira, on a strip of desert in the northern most tip of South America – a land divided between Colombia and Venezuela. I was on the truck, instead of on my bike. I was stunned, with one hand and neck that were burning, and stinging bumps in my head. With a smile on my face, I drank a sort of native
They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and
Leaving New York, never easy (it’s pulling me apart). I saw the light fading out. – R.E.M “Leaving New York” 22/12/2015 Hmm…heavy. Too heavy. Overloaded. Impossible to continue the journey in this way. My legs are hard. I can’t get more speed. There are not enough hours of daylight to make mileage. It’s colder than expected. Probably I wont be able to divert through the Monument Valley. These are just some of the thoughts that plagued my mind as I left San Francisco. I’m not the only one who has
When I arrived in Fairbanks at Ben’s place, who had agreed to host me through warmshowers.org (but Ben is also very active on Couchsurfing) there was a package waiting for me that Cyndie, Skyroam’s marketing manager, had sent me. Skyroam makes a hotspot device with a virtual SIM. The benefit of this device is being able to travel with a little box that creates a personal hotspot which provides a connection via Wi-Fi for up to 5 devices: mobile phones, laptops, tablets, e-readers (Kindle and similar) and whatever else you
A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles. – Tim Cahill I cycled for two months alone, for most of time in the wilderness, days were punctuated by the elements. Hellenic culture listed four: fire, earth, air and water. According to Aristotle in these he added a fifth, ether or quintessence. He considered the essence of the celestial world opposed to the four terrestrial and believed that the ether was eternal, immutable, weightless and transparent. Alchemists even believed that the ether was the compound of the philosopher’s stone.
There aren’t adverse weather conditions. There are only yielding men. – Aldo “Rock” Calandro Tuesday, 8 September 2015 I’ve been on the road for almost a month. By now, I’m wishing I had already written about how I made it through the Dalton Highway, my departure from Deadhorse (Prudhoe Bay), my face-to-face with a grizzly bear, my hypothermic hands. I’m wishing I had already had the time to write about the days of incessant rain, the snow, the pain of pitching and dismantling the tent in the cold and