Fragile X Pedition

My route from Prudhoe Bay to Ushuaia

2009-02-14T09:52:00.004Z

THE END

2009-02-04T14:46:00.003Z

So this is it. The end. Flying over and into a beautiful white blighty was the absolute nail in it all. Im home. did that all happen ? yes it did ! and i will never forget any of it. well actually i have forgotten most of it. there is so much to hold in the memory box. Aside from "what now", my mind keeps firing in the odd flash of what was. mostly comical moments and wonderful faces. Lets hope smells, faces, circumstances, music and more, trigger more hidden memories.................................... A few stats : 22000 miles, 15 countries (regarding Alaska as independent), 4 rear tyres, 5 front tyres, 2 batteries, 2 chains, 2 choke cables, 2 clutch cables, 100 stickers, 2 close ones (1 being my falt), 2 TV interviews, 2 radio interviews, 5 national newspaper interviews, 3 magazines, 2 tearful episodes with head in hands, 1 moment with a wolf, 2 moments with cuddly bears, 1 dead snake, 1 dead bird, 1 moment with bandits, 2 moments with the police, 0 military moments, 0 robberys, 0 arguements with the locals, 1000 chicken and rice meals, 10000 empanadas (if ya know where they sell these little rascals in London, do let me know now please), 1000 new friends, 6 offs (small pain), 0 loss of documents, 0 punctures, 1 pair of lost boots, 2 lost cameras, 3 lost silly hats, wouldnt know where to start guessing at how much gasoline used. well then time to go. no more blogs.. some might be glad to hear.. thank you all those who suffered and stuck with the blog. i apologise for all the spelling , grammer and all mistakes. My just giving page is still open, so if you are considering sponsoring me and donating to the fragile x society, now the job is done, please click the JG widget on the right of this page. We have nearly hit the £6000 mark. £10000 being the target. I am amazed at that amount. I thank you once more !!...photos on the right hand side have been updated. "click for simons pics".... . All countries visited gave me nothing but open arms, help and big smiles. the reputation of some of these places is covered in darkness. i found nothing but light. They offer things i dont find in the UK. Would you offer a bed to a complete stranger, mad eyed, covered in oil and mud, splurting out alien language ?.... i will always think on these places and feel warmth. bye bye !! x

big thank yous !

2009-01-24T18:09:00.010Z

5 days in ushuaia has given me time to look back on , what has been the most incredible 6 months of my life. i remember touching the arctic ocean up in prudhoe bay and looking south wondering what i would be thinking when i am down south looking north. .....its the people that are in my thoughts. the scenery, riding and all else involved on the trip comes a close second. i miss everyone i have met and long to see them all again. i am still amazed by the genuine interest, help and time all have given me. without this i would have had half the trip i did and would no way have been able to get the publicity i was seeking..... i want to say now a huge heart felt thank you to all the following people and organisations that have bent over backwards for me from when it was just an obsessing idea to right now. .................

THE FRAGILE X SOCIETY IN GREAT DUNMOW. AMANDA , WENDY AND ALL TOOK ME IN WHEN I WAS WIDE EYED AND OBVIOUSLY NAIVE WITH THE PLAN. TAKING ME SERIOUSLY AND HELPING ME WITH ALL MY REQUESTS. AON GROUP LIMITED LONDON. SALLY, REUBEN AND MATTHEW. FOR THE GENEROUS DONATION TO THE FRAGILE X SOCIETY AND ALL THE WORLD WIDE PUBLICITY. TRANSWORLD COURIERS FOR THEIR GENEROUS DONATION AND HELP WITH SHIPPING MY GEAR QUICKLY AND SECURELY, LISTENING TO MY MOANS AND WORRIES ALONG THE WAY. NITE WATCHES FOR THEIR IMMPECABLE HELP WITH PUBLICITY AND LETTING ME PUT TO THE TEST ONE OF THEIR TX10 WATCHES, WHICH I HAVE TO ADD HASNT A SCRATCH ON IT EVEN AFTER ALL THE BATTERINGS I HAVE GIVEN IT ALONG ROUTE. IT HASNT MISSED A SECOND. DAVE GURMAN AT THE RIDERS DIGEST FOR HIS 2 PAGES OF INSIGHTFUL HONEST WRITING ON THE FXPEDITION. BIKE ANIMAL.COM AND DIRT BIKE RIDER MAGAZINE FOR THEIR PUBLICATIONS. A HUGE THANKS TO PHIL FREEMAN AND ALL HIS TOP EMPLOYEES UP THERE AT ALASKA RIDER TOURS. A GREAT BUNCH WHO SORTED OUT THE BIKE PERFECTLY TO HANDLE A NOVICE LIKE ME. I HAD A REAL HAPPY FUN TIME IN THEIR COMPANY AND MISS LIKE MAD SITTING AROUND THE OFFICE WITH BEERS AND LAUGHS. ASH AT A AND Z SPORTS IN GRAVESEND FOR THE STUNNING T-SHIRTS AND KEEPING UP AN ORIGINAL SPORTS SHOP, WHEN ALL AROUND ARE DULL CHAIN SHOPS. COLIN PATTERSON-SMITH AT THE FALKLANDS TOURIST BOARD, WHO HELPED NO END WITH INFO AND THE PERFECT FINISH TO THIS ALL. SALVADOR FOR HIS SPANISH LESSONS AND PATIENCE WITH ME. WITHOUT THOSE GENEROUS LESSONS I WOULD NOT HAVE HAD THE FOUNDATION IN THE LANGUAGE THAT QUICKENED MY LEARNING ON ROUTE. MAILSOURCE FOR UNDERSTANDING AND GIVING ME THE TIME NEEDED TO GO DO THIS..DEANO, DAVE, ALLAN, FABS AND ALL IN THE POSTROOM FOR PUTTING UP WITH TALKING OF NOT MUCH ELSE...TERRY, SPARKSY, MARK, BRI, TREV AND ALL, AT WEEKENDS SECURITY FOR THE LAUGHS AND CHANCE OF EXTRA WORK, U U U U U U ! .....KELLY - VANCOUVER FOR THAT FIRST NIGHTS KIP AND SHOW AROUND THAT BEAUTIL CITY ! GABY, GUIDO AND DALE, WAS A REAL PLEASURE IN THOSE EARLY DAYS !...PETE PIEL FOR JOINING ME AND RIDING SOME OF THE ROUTE. WE HAD A FUN TIME. PETE SHOWED ME THE WAY TO STICK MY NECK OUT WHEN IT COMES TO RAISING AWARENESS, JUST WHEN IT WAS NEEDED. AND THANK YOU PETE FOR THE PERFECT STICKERS AND T-SHIRTS. DEBBIE, PETES SISTER FOR LETTING US ROAM AND SLEEP AT HER PLACE IN PHOENIX. KERRY MOORE, THANK YOU LOADS FOR THE CONTACT IN THE STATES AND THE INTEREST MATE - COME ON THE EAGLES !FXMOM FOR ALL HER ENCOURAGING COMMENTS. PETER SOHM AND ALVARO URIBE WHO WORKS AT AON MEDELLIN FOR THE HELP AND WARMTH. MAKING IT EASY FOR ME TO GET THE PUBLICITY DOWN THERE IN DREAMLAND COLOMBIA. PATRICIO RODRIGUEZ AT AON QUITO AND ALL HIS COLLEAGUES FOR THERE HELP AND WARMTH AGAIN IN TRUE LATIN AMERICAN STYLE. TRUST AND UNDERSTANDING ALWAYS PRESENT. JOSE LUIS CONTRERAS AT AON LA PAZ FOR WELCOMING ME ARMS OPEN. ALL AT THE OTHER AON BRANCHES I VISITED. ALL GIVING ME HELP, TIME AND WARMTH. SIGNE, FRED, JOHN, JO, BRIAN , ROGER AND JAY UP THERE IN PHILIPSBURG. THANKS LOADS FOR MY FIRST TASTE OF GENEROUS HOSPITALILTY AFTER I HAD BEEN ALONE FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE AGES. ALFREDO AND HIS WONDERFUL FAMILY IN COLIMA MEXICO THANK YOU. THEY FOUND ME SHOUTING AT A NON GIVING CASHPOINT MACHINE IN THE RAIN AND LOOKED AFTER ME FOR 2 DAYS, NOT LETTING ME PUT MY HAND IN MY POCKET AND SHOWING ME THE LOCAL SIGHTS THAT I WOULD HAVE MISSED. ALSO INTRODUCING ME TO FRANCIS FROM KLIENT FM IN HERMASILLO WHO SORTD OUT THE FIRST RADIO INTERVIEW OF THE TRIP. CHEERS LOADS OMER, MY NEXT RIDING BUDDY WHO KEPT ME LAUGHING FOR A MONTH. ALL AT THE CASA CARMEN. TARIQ, HANNAH, CASSY, PJ, I STILL MISS YA ! .. KAREN AND PATRICK FROM JERSEY, ANOTHER BONKERS COUPLE WHO MADE OUR TIME HILARIOUS- MISS YA LIKE MAD TOO ! CANT FORGET KARINA LA RATTA ASWELL ! TODOS RATTAS !!.. VICTOR AND JOSE HELLO AND THANKS FOR THE ENCOURAGING ENTHUSIASM OUT THERE IN THE WILDS OF THOSE RADIANT COLOMBIAN HILLS. JAIRO AND YORSMAN THANKS FOR ALL THE HELP WITH THE OIL CAP AND GIVING UP YOUR DAY TO SHOW ME SIGHTS I WOULD HAVE MISSED. THE CASA KIWI GANG, IN MEDELLIN. ANOTHER HILARIOUS TIME , I MISS YOU ALL !..TODD, WHO DROVE DOWN THE SAME ROUTE AS ME IN A CAR, WHERE ARE YA ? LOST IN ANTARTICA ? ALDO, ROSA MARIA AND THEIR BEAUTIFUL FAMILY, THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME AND THE BOYS FOR THOSE GREAT DAYS IN TRUJILLO. MARTINA AND DIDI, YOU NUT CASES. THANK YOU FOR KEEPING ME ALIVE AND LAUGHING IN BOLIVIA ! CRISTINA, BARBY, ANDRES AND JOSE . YOU ALL REALLY TOUCHED ME. I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR YOUR PATIENCE, WARMTH AND GENEROSITY TO A STRANGER. THE RADIO INTERVIEW WILL ALWAYS BE ONE THE HIGHLIGHTS OF THE WHOLE TRIP. MAGGIE IN LONDON, CHEERS LOADS MATE FOR ALL THE HELP AND GETTING MY ARSE GOING WHEN I WAS DISORGANISED AND DOZZY. MIRIAM YOU STILL ALIVE ?... THANKS TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO WROTE TO ME AND ENCOURAGED ME.I NEEDED TO HEAR AND READ IT ALL..NEARLY FORGOT TO SAY THANKS AND SEND MY BEST WISHES TO MIKE AND HIS CLASSIC EMPHATIC STATEMENTS, THE BEST BEING WITH SOURFACED GRIMACES AND VERY VOCAL " I DONT WANNA RIDE WITH THAT PERVERT" AND " I DONT WANNA LISTEN TO ANYONE " CLASSIC MOMENTS OF PAINFUL LAUGHTER ! AND DAN "LETS GET SOME COW, POLLO AND FAT SAUSAGES TO COMPLEMENT THE WINE ", THIS BOY CAN COOK ! - WANNA HEAR WHEN FUEGOS OPENS SON !AND JEFF, THE BOY THATS UP FOR IT ALL ,I.E. THE RED NECKS THAT PUT UPWITH ME LONGER THAN WE THOUGHT, RIDING AND RISKING ALL TOGETHER - IT WAS INCREDIBLE CHAPS AND A RIGHT LAUGH THAT WILL KEEP ME GRINNING FOR YEARS !! STAY ALIVE BOYS !!!! GONNA MISS YA !!.... CHEERS MUM , DAD, SUEZ , IAN, TOM, OUR SIAN AND ALL FAMILY ON BOTH SIDES FOR NOT THINKING IM NUTS TO DO THIS...CHEERS ENCOURAGING MUCKERS : VANGUS the "TERRIBLE", MR.STREETER AND ARIEL MRS STREETER (CONGRATULATIONS ON THE WEDDING (sbout time) , JASON...YASMIN CROWTHER FOR WRITING THE SAFFRON KITCHEN. THE BOOK HONESTLY KEPT ME SANE IN CENTRAL AMERICA. A SPECIAL THANK YOU TO ALL THAT SPONSORED ME. THE DONATIONS HAVE BEEN INCREDIBLE. I NEVER EXPECTED TO SEE SUCH GENEROSITY !! THANK YOU ALLLLLLLLL !! LOVE YA AND GONNA MISS YARRRRRRRRR !!!!!!!!!!!!!

the end of the world - Ushuaia - job done

2009-01-21T17:05:00.009Z

That big ridiculous grin above, isnt relief, joy or an outlet of feelings of grand achievement. no, its a ridiculous grin of disbelief with some sort of half acknowledged joy. 10 miles outside my final destination, the end of the road, the end of the trip. the southern most city on earth, ushuaia, my bike completely shut down, with a choking slapping sound of a voice, " NO MORE MILES MAN !". 10 miles left out of 22000 miles. i slowed down to stop for a picture and she just died. its serious im sure. i pushed the bike up a hill surrounded by the incredible tierra del fuego landscape and then hoped to bump start the thing. it worked, i rode out those 10 last miles at 20mph with the engine straining at high revs and making horredous sounds of scraping metal, and the sound of all things inside loose. some might say, im lucky again to have broken down so close, i agree. also an added drama to a story (which i could do without)... the problem now is how to get myself out of argentina, legally with customs stamping the bike out. anyway, enough of all that. southern patagonia is spectacular.

el chalten (above) is a tiny argentine patagonian resort, tucked into the shadows of mount fitzroy. this valley is silent , except for the howling wind and the sound of tapping rain. from here, its south down to the torres del paine, national park on the chilean side of patagonia. this is an area contradicting the rest of northern patagonia. here is where the vast nothing,becomes the rugged jagged mountains , twsiting roads heading higher, turquoise lakes, something. dont get me wrong, i loved riding through nothing , except fields and big skies. but this is where a man can sit in awe for hours,grinning and imagining.

in the shadows of a hidden fitroy. argentina

trees grow at angles everywhere. the relentless wind makes sure of that.

el chalten

the ends of ruta 40. still not a twist in gravel insight. but shapes on the horizon.

entering torres del paine, chile

the famous torres peaks. atmospheric again. waking up to this with no one around is something i can never forget.

patagonian pumas are a ferocious foe. rarely seen by man. this puma i tamed after he knawed on my ear lobe for 10 minutes.

the modern day is everywhere down here, but the old days are also everywhere. it has a 100 year old feel to it inside and out.

gypsy siggs

guanaco adult. big brown eyes and jaws of a camel.

nearing tierra del fuego. the magellan strait became visible. the excitement was gaining on me here. i still cant get over the fact of making it this far. money and time , well with desire also, are all thats needed. anyone can do this. A storm came in as quick as it left on the strait, pulling the clouds into all sorts of original shapes to me. really did seem like the ends of the earth. its cold and the wind gets stronger. on one side of tierra del fuego , to the east - strange rays glowed from the horizon, as clear as day light. at first i thought, "oh it must be the sun", then i dimmly realised the sun was setting on the other side of the world. and the rays were running from thin on the landside to wide on the sky side. ?????

puerto natales, chile

this could be alaska

crossing to tierra del fuego was a small ferry. the whole area hasnt moved in years. small villages just sit there with no inhabitants left. all windows smashed. just the wind left. a lonesome atmosphere. beautiful.

tierra del fuego

ushuaia. its all finished. the only thing left is to find a way home.

ushuaia

tierra del fuego. heading south

ushuaia

deeper south into patagonia - fragile x families & new friends - a radio interview - the road to the ends of the earth

2009-01-13T14:13:00.031Z

Buenos Aires is quiet now. the dakar racers and all the excited koas that the rally brings has gone south. dust trails sucked out of the city into the unknown. the first south american rally. i follow it out. a day later and at a very slower pace. Puerto Madryn is my destination. The famous seaside resort sits on the atlantic coast of patagonia. Cristina, lives there. She contacted me a long time ago, when i was in the early stages of getting my head around the trip. She has 2 children affected by fragile x syndrome. Maggie who has helped me along the way, with ideas and explanation sheets in spanish, back in london is Cristinas niece. Easy getting out of buenos aires. hit the main drag in the centre and fly down that south. half hour and im in the fields. Along Ruta 3. The road is a 100km straight, much like the roads in the north of the country. the wind gets fierce. when the road finaly turns , it turns to the west. a head wind strains the riding down to 4000revs and no more. much like riding at altitude, i cant throttle out anymore speed. concentration is hard here. the horizon doesnt move it stays far off. the fields stay the same. dry vegitation. the sky stays huge and blue. i turn south again, the wind turns to a cross wind. leaning into it becomes the normal riding position, at least a 10 degree drop towards the road surface. until the wind suddenly drops every once in while, dropping the bike to a further angle. all is ok , when you get used to it. 2 nights and a 5 hour tyre change in bahia blanca, to get to puerto madryn. crossing the rio negro i am told is the start of patagonia. patagonia, the land of the people with big feet. Dan is there. we left him to ride his own roads at christmas. its great to see the comical geezer again. he knocks up the best steaks and salads you can imagine. evenings in the hostel gardens, beef sitting over a flame, being watched and tossed by dan , are a perfect end to heavy days wind wrestling riding. I finaly contact Cristina here. i am a month late. originaly i planned to here early december. riding these continents is almost as unpredictable as sailing the seas. Cristina comes to my hostel with Barbara her daughter, who is affected with fragile x syndrome. As soon as we all meet i am filled with warmth and big smiles. we sit there for 2 hours laughing and chatting. my spanish has almost improved , by learning a new word at least once a week. cristinas english i see improve as we speak. barbara picks up the english words very quickly also. I am made so welcome, it couldnt be better.

the next day cristina introduces me to Andres, her son and jose a friend who also has 2 children affected by fragile x syndrome. above in the photo from left to right : cristina, andres, barbara, jose and me. I was taken around the town, to all the best spots. never a dull moment. we are all laughing and joking all day long. the plan is to get a radio interview. cristina has a friend involved in radio. Barbara and andres are brilliant with this stranger from england. Its hard to recognise the FXS affects. I see now that my Sian at home, is so much more affected by this syndrome. My new firends show no signs of autism spectrum disorder that sian does. The more i get to know these lot the more i am warmed. they are all very close and understanding of each other.

Andres is a golf fanatic and judging by all his trophies, a top player.

jose has 2 children also affected by fragile x syndrome. Ignacio who is 15 years old and sabrina who is 25. jose is full of fun. he has me in stiches for the time we meet. he loves his 2 wheels also, dashing and darting about puerto madryn on this nippy machine.

The last nights meal. i much on those perfect argentine steaks. vino tinto and dolce leche. again i dont have to put my hands in my pockets. i miss my new mates.

Irene (in blue) is Cristinas friend. she speaks perfect english. she teaches english and sometimes is a guide down south in patagonia. A radio interview is arranged by Irene. she has a weekly show on this east coast station. the audiance reaches north to Buenos Aires and who knows how far south. Im nervous, as i havent done anything like this since the TV in Trujillo, Peru. Its fine though. the bloke interviewer is full of energy, which rubs off on us all and he quickly understands whats going on with the syndrome. Irene, translates fast and furious, not missing a trick. 15 minutes into the interview, the phone calls start coming in , along with emails. all from listeners interested in FXS. We bring cristina into the interview, to answer the callers questions. A lady caler asks where she can get her kids blood tested for the syndrome. cristina mentions, that Buenos Aires is the only place in argentina that this can be done. The whole thing lasts half hour. a real success. im chuffed, we all are. thank you mr interviewer, irene, for her perfect ability and of course cristina who, deepened the whole expereince. Cristina is travelling to santiago, chile, in weeks to come , because 2 researchers from the USA are talking a conference , regarding recent finds, in medicine, that perhaps will help with altereing affects of the syndrome. apparently adding protein to needy fragile chromosome. fingers crossed !!

This is a bay near puerto madryn, that i was lucky enough to be taken to by cristina and her family. Jose being a photographer took some incredible pics of these huge sea beasts. sea lions in english. lobos in castellano. they made a right racket.

the bull. in crontrol of all things seals

Along the atlantic coast, deeper into patagonia is a penguin colony. these little blokes didnt care about humans, romping through their manor.

man looks at penguin. penguin looks at man. Dan and his new found friend.

these red shrines can be seen all over argentina. it a good luck shrine dedicated to gauchito gil. n argentine hero from the 19th century. give him gifts and you might be lucky.

travelling to the west side of argentina. near the chilean frontier. head south down ruta 40. a road that drift down for 5000kms. top to bottom of argentina. i head south on it at 125kms north of perito moreno. its a famous road amongst overlanders. notorious for its harsh winds and dirt.

staright away, 10kms in, the road splits. no signs. just the sun to give a direction. dan and mike discussing which fork to take. as it happens we take the left fork. the right one.

endless straights, along compact gravel, loose rocks and deep ruts left by trucks using the same lines. the sun goes down leaving this vast expanse, light up like fire.

when the gravel heads west in a falling sun, nothing can be seen. the glare is painful. slow down and push your luck. it works. no one falls.

guanaco. they just blend into their surroundings, dashing out at high speed into the road.

met these 6 or 7 argentines. all cycling a large part of the ruta 40 south.

aproaching the end of that days section of ruta 40, we found this german bloke, leo wandering around infront of an ambulance asking what country he was in. he has wrecked his africa twin 750 honda. he couldnt remember what happened. looks like he was fast across a deep dune of gravel which twitched him into a frenzy. the bike must have sumersalted a few 10s of metres, judging by the wreck.the ambulance left him there with us. we got a tow truck to pick his wreck up and we got him to hospital in la calafatte. dan road with the ambualance all the way. 200kms away. he is ok, just a bit in shock and scatter brained for now.

approaching the bizzare and wonderful mount fitzroy in el chalten, patagonia. the wind was double strong along this stretch. seeing the range come up over the horizon is spectacular. fitz roy is named after the captain of the beagle, the ship Mr darwin sailed the local seas down here in, discovering stuff.

fitz roy, the tallest peak. just like a scene from a dark fantasy.

The straight and uneasy road to Buenos Aires

2009-01-02T12:54:00.029Z

The peace of mind lasts 60miles out of Tucuman. Raul Becker in tucuman, and his boys had spent the whole day digging into my bike searching for answers. The spluttering had to be a moody carb. A clean and a refit was all that was needed. the starter problem was all in the cleaning of the wires in the box, on the handlebars. And scratching the white crusty stuff on the battery connectors. 60 miles out im spluttering and buckerooing all over the road again. arghhhhhhhhh !! no more !!!! All i had to do was switch the tank tap to reserve and alls rosy on the spluttering front. the pipe leading from the tap into the tank thats not the reserve pipe must be blocked. i blame bolivian sand myself. The bike starts after a few attempts of pressing the starter button, but its still a worry that it will erode into uselessness, somewhere up high and nowhere near anything. Cordoba is the next nights stop. it being a large city , they should have a mechanic to scratch his brow over the bike there. Cordoba. They say it is the cultural capital of the americas. loads of universities, museums and art , everywhere. to be honest all i noticed was a decent mechanic and a million beautiful , i mean very beautiful women everywhere. A wonderful place to sit drink coffee and just watch the world. I spend 2 nights here. the bike starter problem is understood. the clutch sensor has decided that with all the miles from alaska it is a weakling. 2 pumps of the clutch everytime i go to start the bike , it starts. reliable as regular postroom deliverys at Aon London !! .. did i mention my speedo hasnt worked since the ecuador - peru border ? cant remember... mike has marked down most of the miles, but i am unsure acuratly. i think its around 17 or 18 thousand.... will study a map and get a more acurate guess one day soon. After 100s of cafe side coffees im off to buenos aires..... not even out of cordoba and my bike is all over the place. a savage rattle scaring the life out me comes from below. my rear wheel bearings have been crushed and eaten alive. im not going anywhere. the sun is a melting pot fire. we take the wheel off. half the bearings have disintergrated and the other half , crushed flat. the casing is split into 3 pieces. my sweaty bald head is in my hands and my elbows on my knees as i sit leaning against a shop window, which turns out to be a moto mechanics tienda. mike gets chatting to a local fella who says he will take mike and the wheel down the road to a tyre fitters to see if they have a new bearing, while i stay as i am, a shell of a man with his head still in his hands. they dissapear for 3 hours. the sun moves around baking my brains even more. i dont care. im visited by, elvio, luis and frank. followed by gregg and his brother ignacio. 10 mins later im laughing about and chatting all things bikes, babes, basketball and general man stuff. i speak terrible mockney spanish, they dont speak english except gregg and ignacio. i understand most of what we say. all great once again. these people just want me to be happy and they incourage me that the bearing is no problem. they seem very sure and convince me. mike turns up with the first chap we met, who drove the wheel away . carlos and his kid son. the bearings new and fitted.... we all exchange details and say hard goodbyes then we are off. into a falling day and loads of miles, or so i think !...... from cordoba its around 700 ks. . this part of argentina, is very flat. the roads are endless straights. A strong wind seems to always be head on. the views either side are green oceans of corn fields and just fields. towns turn up. all the shops are large agricutural machine selling warehouse type shops. A salar shows up. mike decides to have a look . about half mile off the road. he falls off the bike again when the sand around the salar reminds him of bolivia. 100 miles out of cordoba, "bang !!!" oil everywhere ! mikes ktm is spitting out the dark fluid like i have never seen before. im relieved it isnt my bike. i imagine a football size hole in the belly of the bike. its his ususal oil sensor problem thats been irritating him for weeks now. lucky once more though, we are stopped at an asado restuaurant, with a kawasaki dealer next to it. looks like goodfellas are all sitting outside the asado place. i approach them tentatively. they all smile and get me to join them munching the big famous beef, pig, brains, tongue, pollo asado that argentina is so famous for. incredible food. i cant resist. brains are har dto get used to as the fellas all laugh at my struggle swallowing the grey matter. could you resist if you were here ?! it would turn any veggie back into a carnivore , im sure . the wine is just as good as the munch. corrrrrrr. we stay a night . buenos aires seemingly moving further away from us. mikes bike is in great hands. jose and the boys deal with the stroppy sensor easy. creating a new gasket for it out of nothing. Theres a firework display on that night at midnight. its new years eves, eve. we ride the bikes down there. we are crowded out by loads of people. i am actually asked for my autograph. i can only think they thought i am a dakar racer. i felt fake. i didnt try and be anything else apart from a foreigner riding his bike into town. i thanked them more than they thanked me, for doing it. im sure the next morning they must have confused expressions saying, "who the hell was that baldylocks ?" and "what actually is fragile x syndrome ?" ..... we get going the next morning, hard goodbyes again. mikes oil starts weeping out again. its not too harsh coz we can sort it in buenos aires. he just keeps topping it up every so and so miles.... its new years eve now. we full throttle for the city , with dreams of a special night out in a romantic lively city. night falls too quick. we end up staying in a small town 70 miles out of buenos aires. our hotel is a back street homage to the days of art deco. a dusty smell in the air, a ticking clock, and mumbling men, who become our companions for the celibrations. the owner is maria, a right laugh. she takes the mick out of all of us, even though i cant understand a word she says , im still belly laughing. we find an asado shop with a circular grill the size of a large car. dead animals stretched all around it. we buy cow and chicken. i stuff my face with the butter like meat, smiling and not missing the dreams of the big city night out i was dreaming about. 12 oclock comes. me, mike, maria and an old boy toast the ano nuevo with gorgeous sweet champagne. bed by 1, sober and glad. Sunshine new years day and off to buenos aires. im excited. all that has conjured up in mind over the years about this city and now im just gonna ride into it. Not many cars about . all must still have their heads in their pillows and why not. the suburbs come past miles out of where the signs say the city is. this place must be huge. 13 million im told. a mad alien space ship car comes roaring past us on 5 lane highway. Im reminded, this is where the dakar rally is this year. gone from africa. some say coz of terrorist threats , some say coz of the amount of racers that get killed every year. who knows. im just excited that its here, where i am. we roll into the city getting lost straight away. i run out of petrol on a very busy road. i have my spare jerry can topped. Another space ship flys past. we chase it into a garage, right next to the river plate stadium. im grinning like never before. im next to this amazing famous stadium. who remembers argentina 78 ? mario kempes, those 2 ugly dutch twins ? and archy gemmils goal ? .. we chat to the team in the mad car. russians. very friendly and insightful about the nut case rally. people crowd us as much as they crowd the car. i feel like a kareoke rock star again. this is buenos aires. the streets are wide the buildings high. each one a different character. the people are all dressed immaculate. no litter anywhere. the buzz of the dakar is all over. a ridiculous truck burns down a street, its a back up vehicle for a racer. built to drive vertical up the andes and over the atacama desert. the bikes are lined up down a closed street. everywhere we stop, people come flying over to say hello. i manage to get a radio interview straight away. it is polish radio station, covering the rally. they want to know why i have ridden from alaska to here and what i think of those mental racers, who i admire more than any other racing genre racers. that evening KTM are having a conference. mike needs a new sensor desperate now. he has a ktm shirt. we must blag our way in and meet the stars and get his sensor. can i leave this city ?

Cordoba. they say the Americas cultural capital ?

Cordoba traffic. Not as nut case as other cities.

Cordoba

cordoba

Carlos, his son , Luis and his son frank. All incredible people, who spent an afternoon helping and cheering up a total alien stranger. I would still be there now , leaning on that yellow shop head in hands, if it wasnt for them.

Ignacio, Luis, Mike, Frank and Elvio. All mates withing a matter of minutes. Elvio coaches a local basketball side. top luck to him ! Luis and frank run a car fixer and sprayers shop. All immaculate work. Ignacio a top translator. Gregg his brother is out of picture , coz he ran down a few blocks to get myself and mike a gift. Cordobans ! thank you !!

In the town of Villa Maria, where mikes bike was leaking oil. Jose at GAF MOTOS was no end of help and laughs. These boys no how to get the job done and laugh. the next day full of concerns and questons. not just letting yet another punter just go away.

Villa Maria, adado restuarant. this food is tasty incredible. more meat on that grill than the field next door ! sizzling and smoking all day long.

nearing Buenos Aires

New Years eve munch ! more and more meattttttt !!

New years eve celebrations. Quiet and funny. welcome 2009

A glimpse at the River Plate stadium. Buenos Aires

The russian NART TIME rally raid team. look out for them in the rally. number 356. racers : K . Zhiltsov and Y . Solouyev. friendly blokes who gave us time in a petrol stop.

Its an american designed engine that screams like a banshee exiting the fires of hell !

buttons, leavers and more buttons. how do you decide what button to press at 150 miles an hour in deep sand and altitude ? for hours on end

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr !!!!

Senor Zhiltsov. driver of the NART TIME. squeezing time in his busy schedule to chat about the fragile x pedition. good luck chaps !

The Dakar bikes. ready to roll . all tuned and built for some real brutality. "they aint riding those bolivian roads i did though !" to scared i recon !

Dakar 2009. Argentina - Chile

What i would do for an hour on this beast

The KTM riders in conference.

Mike can be scene here pushing his luck. he managed to get the KTM team to not only take the needed oil sensor off one of their show bikes, they are fitting it for him also.

BIG THANKS TO : Raul Becker at Becker motos, Tucuman, Argentina

David Edgardo Paredes at Paredes motos, Cordoba, Argentina

Jose L.Saul at Gaf motos, Villa Maria, Argentina

Argentina - the final country

2008-12-26T23:48:00.007Z

A few days waiting on an ATM machine to be fed in san pedro de atacama, which didnt happen, then out. back up the hills past the bolvian border again but onto Argentina. It felt strange to know this was the last country i am visiting. Not feelings of sadness though. Basically im suprised i even made it passed canada. Its not the last time i cross a border thouh. down south i have to cross into chile a couple of times, to see the wonders that are down there. Patagonia is split between Argentina and chile. Knowing xmas was just around the corner i wanted to try and get to a large town to try and celebrate in somesort of way that seemed to be what i know. i imagined maybe catching the blues , without being in the company of family and friends. Didnt get the blues at all. its full on summer down here and i had no sense of xmas what so ever. Anyway. i crossed the border straight away riding into a greener landscape and higher octane fuel. After seeing yellow and orange landscapes for ages, it was lovely to see green again. Purmamarca was the town night caught us. A high pass with strong cross winds brought us into this gorgeous town. winding roads splattered across the mountains. hairpins that completely double back and more.

purmamarca is very layed back. boca juniors, argentinas man utd, are fighting for the championship. all wear their shirt. just like man utd in the UK. the town isnt layed back for 90 minutes.

the surrounding hills and mountains are all filled with extreme coloured sand. the whole place changes as the sun moves over the sky.

incredible riding here.

heading south now to salta. salta is a large town. 3 nights and some sorting stuff out and we are off. i look at the map, it seems like i havent got anywhere. argentina is humunguss. everywhere is layed back. salta was packed with people, but everything is slowed down. even a day before xmas, the pace is calm. cafayatte turns up. a beautiful wine producing village. vineyards roll around on the surrounding hill sides. small trees line the avenues. the plaza is empty , except for the locals siestas in the cafes. this is my xmas town for 2 days, spent in a hostel with 4 germans, mike and dan and dans huge steak dinners. a top munch.

boxing day riding out of cafayatte, the bikes starts spluttering down. im not at altitude now so im concerned. keep the revs down and all seems alright. the starter button doesnt work constantly. somethings not right all over with the bike. mikes ktm is gaining problems by the day now also. tucuman is the town with a ktm dealer. im here now. both bikes are being taken care of by an ex argentine enduro champion. raul becker. now a mechanic. spent today overseeing and getting in the way in his work shop. the bikes will be sparkling reliable tomorrow im sure. towards buenos aires. who knows how many days . argentina is huge. style is everywhere.

Bolivia - An unearthly playground - an encounter with a Devil

2008-12-18T22:24:00.030Z

Some days the towns just seem to roll into the same town. The suprise sometimes isnt there. Potosi, Bolivia wiped that slate clean. Dan, mike and myself rolled into the town after dark, after face stinging hail had rained down on us as we climbed to just over 4000 metres again to reach potosi. We had past vast plains where the horizon held small , what looked liked floating islands, with rounded bases. Bolivia offers illusions constantly, especialy after hours in the seat transfixing on vanishing points. This was the day i had my first argument with the bike. The black hail clouds were gaining on me in my rear view mirror. i was getting anxious and cold. the usual engine choke came with the altitude , which slowed me down , letting those clouds catch up. at 4000rpm, the bike was spluttering violently, more than usual. long straight roads came . i felt like i was riding backwards, rocking, as the engine splutters chucked me forwards, back. That was it ! after 3 hours of this i jumped off and used very harsh language, with my knees bent and my face an inch from the carburator. All seemed rational and fair enough at the time. with the flat of my foot i hoofed the bikes tank 3 times. mike turns round and comes back to see why this idiot is loosing his voice with his head up an engine. I calm down after he laughs at me and says " just ring its neck". that works i keep the throttle wide open. the road starts to twist, slowing me down , not needing to go over 4000rpm. the ride becomes pleasant as the hail comes and goes. Potosi is a scene from pirates of the caribbean. rich in pastels, iron works and colonial masterpieces. i love it and want a house just like their houses here..... potosi is on the map because of Cerro Rico. The rich mountain. as day comes you see this mound overlooking the town. Its a shell of of mountain now. they have scraped its sides thin and dug catacoombs through its belly. silver from this sad spectacle has kept the world, especialy europe rich for nearly 500 years. They say an Incan found the place. he then mentioned it to the spanish around 1545. they walked over mile after mile to eventually see this gleaming , sparkling mountain, shimmerimg silver in the sunlight. So since then, the plundering hasnt stopped. In spanish there is still a saying, valer un potosí, "to be worth a potosí" (that is, "a fortune"). Today the mines are still open. i had to go see. This was the most moved i have ever been at the life of others . i didnt really know what to expect. maybe a cart would take us around the inner tracks, all being safe. maybe the workers would all be smiling and enjoying there passtime. Maybe mining is all advanced and machines do all the work as the boys oversee and chat. Myself and the tour group are all laughing at our ridiculous outfits we have to wear. The smiles drop as we enter. no cart to guide us. a man named jaime is our guide. we crawl and walk , crawl and walk . i bang my head loads. one of the girls on the tour is struggling. we chomp on coca leaves. it helps. . . this place is brutal. it is hell on earth for these workers. they dont live long. everything toxic is down there at 40 degrees celcius. holes a cat would struggle to get through are their doorways. The young, middle teens do all the hard labour like pushing the rock filled carts up and down tiny tunnels for 15 hours a day. the older you get the lighter the labour. i get thrown into pushing a cart, with a worker. i push for 2 minutes not uphill or down, but level surface. With the altitude stilll giving me short breath anyway and the pushing i collapse . impossible. They say zinc is mostly found now here, silver is scarse. Profits from zinc have now colapsed. these boys spend there life in this gateway to hell, finding small amounts of something thats not worth anything. They greet us respecfully. we give them coca leaves and coca cola. I leave there in silence, until jaime , our guide lights a stick of dynomite. runs down the hill side like a chubby charlie chaplin and disapears in a sonic boom and burst of smoke.

entering the mine. about 5 feet high.

crawling into somewhere else in the mine. i had to tell myself its ok, when the sensation of confined space and heat kicked in.

meet the devil. The miners feed him coca leaves , booze and smokes to please him so he keeps them safe.

we feed him leaves and smokes to keep us safe.

this grafter entered the mine at 3 in the morning. it was noon when we met him. he is tapping away , creating holes for the dynomite. no electric tools for him. this area was very very tight and confined in the heart of the hill. all sides of this place lay at strange angles. He had smiles and jokes for us. when his face turned from us i saw it drop. this place got to me. i hope from my heart he finds whats needed to get him out of there.

more uncomplaining grafting.

all the particles get in your body after 10 minutes here.

jaime and the dynomite. a very loud boom. the valley echo for ages and the shake stops after a while. Jaime is around 50 years old i guess. he worked the mines for years then became a guide. hes a lucky one. he is very passionate about the boys welfare in the mine. we spoke of the uk mines and mrs thatcher.

2 nights in potosi we leave. its slashing down. the roads turn to my dreaded mud slide. As we ride out following a locals directions , up the hill. A bike with hard panniers turns up. 2 germans, a couple. martina and didi from bavaria. martina has been on the road 7 years, with her Suzuki DR650. Didi is her boyfriend visiting from germany for 2 months. They are heading to Uyuni in southernish Bolivia also. We chat and realise we are heading wrong. we turn and slide down the hill side together. the road to uyuni is gravel. bolivia only has 25 percent paved roads. its a great days ride. we decend into sunshine. the road isnt that hard for limited off road experience. a few shocks as the sand tries to bite. we stop after a small time. this yellow truck pulls up. 2 more germans driving around this magical continent. they have to be in there 6ts this couple in the van. Uyuni gets close as the day disapears. famous for the salar de uyuni. the largest salt desert on earth. 25 times bigger than bonneville. famous for more illusions. famous for loosing people and messing up motorcycles. martina has ridden it before. the town of uyuni is there on a vast plateau . a dusty yellow town of wide sand streets . hostels everywhere. 4 x 4 tours of the salt tiendas everywhere. 2 nights here, and a day checking the salar is ok to ride. rumours have been flying around that the the salt has 10 inchs of water covering it. not a good idea to ride it then. turns out to be rubbish. there is a few puddles on the outer rimm, but inside its fine. infact its the best surface i have ridden on since the states. the plan is to head west on the salt, then at the middle head south . there are so many tour cars racing this expanse of white that they leave vague tracks to follow. its not as hard as i had belivied. there are mountains around the edges so there is always a land mark to sort of recognise where ya are. the sensation of not moving but the landscape moving under me keeps shocking me into slowing right down. we get lost. wheres the middle ? the sun helps. its falling westwards. we find one of the bizzare islands that are scattered around this desert of white. An hour before, just a tiny blob on a shimmering horizon. large cactus fill these dark dusty islands. we camp. it gets below freezing at night. the moon is the closest it has been to earth in a long time. the night is silver under the moon. even the tent is lit up inside all night. we munch on tuna spaghetti. martina names our island isle de atun. next day we find our way. the salar is hard to ride off, as we have been spoiled with the flat unpotholed surface. straight into deep sand and loose gravel. This the route that most motorcyclist dread apparently. i have been hearing this way to the chilean frontier is unpassable by bike. i was always told not to take it. we took it. they were right. the next 5 days were the hardest riding and tolorence of weather, camping, low food and water, that i have ever known. the road went upto close of 5000 metres. the first day we didnt see even one car. sometimes an adobe house would appear. 2 people would come out looking suprised and direct us to the next sand pit rock filled landscape they call a road. these are not roads. they are the mountains. some vague tracks are sometimes there, just like the salar , but the majority of the way was sand fields, deep. impossible to get any speed up. the sand takes the font wheel sliding either left or right, never in the direction you need. like skating on one foot as a bigginer. corrugated, washboard tracks go on relentlessly for hours. if you dont know what thats like, go find some road works, ask the cango drill worker to lend you his drill for 6 hours. place the drill in a dustbin thats set in stone. sit on the drill and turn it on. dont fall off and get someone to vary the speed on the drill. lashing cross winds, pushing you off line into deeper stuff. i crashed 6 times in 5 days. dan 7, mike 4. martina and didi amazingly didnt drop once. 2 up on a loaded dr. i am still going on at them about how they didnt go gumbs down in the dirt. turns out didi is an ex motocross rider. hes ridden over the blooming sahara. his advice kept me a little sane. eyes forward, knees strong on the tank and throttle hard. i cant throttle hard in deep sand, i just fall off. but the beauty of bailing in the sand is that its rare that it hurts. sand just gets everywhere. at nights we would rush to find solace from the wind and stick the tents up. more spaghetti de atun and fried cheese. water getting scarse. a sip every fall off basicaly. for some reason when i loose control of the bike in the sand i do a cat like scarper off the bike. seems like a good idea though coz i havent been trapped under the thing ever. mikes swearing he will never go off road again. i agree, after the last scare. one day bad the next resonable, with some sort of confidence. i used to hate riding large loose rocks. now i dont mind. they are a relief after so much sand. i realised i have to shout "come on siggs" in my lid, throttle the life out of the bike and just smack over anything in my way. it works, i make the brow of the hill. after 2 days it all seems unreal. the constant hardship. i wonder why anyone would find pleasure from this. the pleasure i know now, comes in the evening when all are around the baby camp stove starving, filthy and knackered, laughing and feeling some sort of good inside. well, and relief from surviving. Also, if you dont go this way you dont go to the top of the world and see this incredible place that bolvia is. this place is above the plateau. it is all colours. lime green glowing lakes. pink lakes, how can a lake be bright pink ? those caramel volcanoes are never ending. smokes weeps from hill sides. i realise im riding in the mouth of a huge volcanoe. the sunset is indescribable. there is no sound when the wind drops in the evenings. the silence almost hurts the brain. llamas, vicuna are everywhere. sometimes a 4 x 4 passes with happy travellers snapping photos of us suffering idiots. i cant believe we didnt end up fighting each other at some points. the stress went way up in the clouds. as i have mentioned., bolivia is not of this world. the sun drops at 7, blinding the eyes . you cant see where you are going, you are riding on deep stuff again. edges on either side taking you to an end im sure . the wind is freezing. 10 miles in 4 hours somedays. its only 600kms to the border and somesort of civilisation. 5 days. all wonderful hell and hard work. that was the hardest things i have ever experienced. we land in san pedro de atacama. 2000metres down. the bike has all power back. im sweating in this desert star wars type town. its perfect after all that. layed back. resturants with fires in the middle, ambiance on the stereos, colourfull fabric shops curb the sand streets, where the tourist all smile and feel great. expensive, baking hot . no cash point that feeds a visa card. im trapped here till the cashpoint machine has been fed more pesos. oh well !

bolivia altiplano. i watched this old lady carry the load for miles. then look at me then dump it and walk off into the hills.

train cemetery, uyuni. i love bolivian tourist atractions. there is never a suited man grabbing money for tickets and it all seems so unofficial. the sun dropped through these strong old rusty engines. a magic place.

home for a night on the salar. these islands are soft dirt and cactus. they jump out from horizons after sensations of not going anywhere when i knew i was doing at least 50mph. very strange.

salar de uyuni

tent up on the salar. a chance to wear the new scarf

riding the salar was incredible. like no other ride before.

this kid turns up as im sweating and breathing like a dying pig after trying to get to grips with deep sand. he just blasted across any terrain on an old 125cc chinese, with his dog that wasnt even strapped to the bike.

the deep stuff

camping again , where i dont know.

no people. no cars. nothing

gumbs down in the sand mike.

sand fields . the hardest of all to ride for me

looking for and begging for tarmac and sanity.

stumbled onto this tiny deserted village up and away from the world. atmospheric and weird

the edge of the salar

deep sand strikes again. dan

getting ready to ride the loose rocks uphill.

i lost it half way up the rock hill. didnt let the bike drop. i was in a rage and the adrenaline helped keep the bike up.

"come on siggs" !!! rawwwwwwwwwwwwwwww ! like a lion to the top. it does help to get stupid up here !

vicuna

the camp is always better in the mornings. the wind has gone and the smell of fryed cheese gets the smiles up and the balls for the days ride going.

weeping volcano

more rock riding.

flamingos

dont know what these birds are called. they gave a real show of liking each other.

martina has just knocked up a tasty breakfast

more jaw dropping gorgeous lakes in the sky

coming out of yet another sand field. relieved at keeping the tyres down

epic riding in the altiplano

dont know what she is either. the size of a cat. something to do with squirrells and rabbits i recon. she stayed staring at us for ages, then bounced of double fast up vertical rocks.

a day draws top an end

the middle of nowhere. strange rocks that look like they where part of something long ago to me.

more weird rock

a tussle of 3 species

touching higher in the sky

riding in the mouth of a volcano. it took me a while to realise

leaving bolivia high in the altiplano. chile is my 2nd to last country to visit. dont let this end

barriers up, bye bye magic bolivia !

click to ride the salar de uyuni

cusco - lago titicaca - into bolivia via panic mechanics & AON La Paz

2008-12-08T21:31:00.029Z

This was my 2nd time riding into cusco (plaza de armas above). Still as excited as before. Knowing this was the hubb, the capital city for the Incan empire. All that colourful, brutal, intelligent culture radiated from here. Everywhere you walk you are reminded of what was. Stones of all sizes, still stand tall holding up what the spanish brought to build on top of them. Colonial days touch the older than that days in harmony. not forgeting what our generations have slapped on and around all that beauty. Its easy and absorbing to get lost here. A quick stroll down to the water seller can take you to the other side of the valley, as each tiny alley way leads you down uniquely cobbled walk ways, shadowed by bulky square, seemingly throbbing rock,as mentioned. left from the incas. Mysteriously found from the ground, brought there without the use of the wheel and impeccably sqeezed together with other stones of those various sizes, with no gaps at all. Shops selling clothes, art, jewellrey, silver valuable graetly in europe, tasty grub, electrical goods. i bought my 3rd camera of the trip..... dont ask !!....... Norton Rats bar. Great burgers. Fun nights. Jeff the manager, a giant help in information to riders. he has been down there 20 years. after leaving the states. he has ridden all over. even down to Ushuaia on an old norton. Hes owned loads of nortons. his face lights up when someone mentions a norton, or the wind , or a scratch of a chair on the floor in the bar seems to say norton. a passionate man, full of valuable info. for me. 4 days here sorting things, and thats enough. no machu picchu this time. The day i leave, mike leaves also. his camera is broken so i sit around the plaza de armas, waiting, hounded by the street hawkers, its all to much , so im fast as i can out of the city when he gets his broken camera back, still broken. Its a 2 day ride at least to the frontier with Bolivia. I feel like have been in peru to long. i am not sure. Peru is a special place. it has it all. i have seen that this time round. Puno is our next stop if all goes well. .........................

We make great going. the road is still high and winding through the usual spectacular terrain. i could never take this for granted. mind you. i was feeling a tad complacent i think around the lima , cusco time. Even being treated like spacemen in the villages and bombarded by the wonderful kids and inquisitive old boys was starting to seem like the norm at this point. It took mikes clutch braking down completely to shake me out of the complacency. we were half way to puno. through the mountains , high, 4500metres up, the air is very thin. the villages getting scarce now. we pull over in this immaculate setting (photo below). stand there in silence for at least 5 minutes. turning full circle, watching the shocking place. An odd truck roaring past. mikes says , his clutch has gone all limp. i think to myself, alls ok, we`ll just sort it out in puno. He gets on his bike and the ktm hydrolic clutch is completely not working . Oh, this will be time for us to really get know eeach other well. i have a one man tent, thats like a coffin, mike has no tent and its very cold up here, even at full blue sky sun, let alone night time star saturated. Concerned looks all round. He gives the bike a try. Great ! the bike lets him move and doesnt stall. he flies off up the road. i chase him. we are both screaming at each other through the wind, "what do i do now !!?", " i dont know !!" , for the next 100 miles. a game of dont stop mike. stay at 45mph. just run down any llama or pig that wants to dart infront of ya.... my bike is still choking stropppy, at this altitude, like myself, it dont wanna go over 4000rpms. so i try my hardest to get infront and see if the next village has anything to offer. like a mechanic, a truck for hire or anything these ingenious people could offer, with a match stiock and a pic pen, so he can stop... this goes on as day starts to exhaust away. MIkes almost frantic. im starting to get properly worried now...this is still altiplano nothingness. He was given a lucky incan charm off this dodgy oxford type gent in cusco, with a donation to a childrens home for the "lucky incan charm". lucky, yeah !! donation for the children, yeah !!.. i see that charm go flying into a nearby field as the ride gets worse. It is getting dark now. non of my lights are working. the next town comes just in time. i am very relieved. Pucara is the town. i stand there, while the locals offer all sorts of help that i dont understand. i think it was help. seemed friendly as always. Is he gonna show up. hed better coz i cant go back and look for him with no lights. mikes rolls in and stops. his bike isnt going anywhere. A night in this cold small, andean village. everyone is interested. i hand out stickers as always and sheets of FXS explanations... rice and chicken again. washed down with that coke i have come to know so well. The stars are all out tonight. stunning. imagination doing overtime again. I find the orion constallation after ages.

The next day Dan, also on a klr like mine... a mate who mike rode with in belize shows up. masterfully, he knows whats going on with the clutch. It needs more, special mineral fluid for the hydrolics. The only mineral fluid we can get is baby bum cleaning johnsons oil. can you believe it ?! it works. until the next city. juliaca. a hideous place. even to a hardy worldy, lental loving traveller. too many people , too many cars, taxis, tuktuks, dogs, donkeys, buses, coaches, tin cans, thin sreets, all trying to get down the same gap at the same time ruthlessly. His clutch brakes again. a leak in the resevoir. Dan and mike sort it out in this kaos.

Puno is a relief. We find a hostel with a garage. the next day can be mechanic day. my bike needs some tlc also. The chaps sort the clutch out. a new seal is whats needed and some new fluid. the baby bum stuff was good for temporary service. still got some bottles left over though. might come in handy for something. I clean my air filter for the first time. get a new spark plug for the first time and re connect the electric connector stuff infront of the front lights, that has rattled loose. alls rosy with both bikes now. ....... sitting on the garage floor, beer in hands. all 3 of us full of self service mechanic satisafction, laugh and chat feeling good . very happy. 3 USA girls turn up , backpacks on backs. they ask for hostel info. our place is good. we all go for a drink that night. Great girls, searching peru for themselves. Lauren, vanessa & katherine, from new york city. We are all sitting round a table in a dark atmospheric puno bar, pearl jam on the speakers when i start rambling on why i am riding. turns out vanessa has 2 cousins with fragile x syndrome. At Last i have met someone who not only has heard of the syndrome but has relatives affected. Alex, a boy whos 9 years old and julie whos 12. Alex has the full mutation and has to be supervised constantly more or less. just like my Sian back home. Julie is less affected , but still needs alot of help. She can speak words. They live in Ohio, USA. Vanessa cant get to see them as much as she would like. I send my best wishes to Alex and Julie and their family. We had some fun with the 3 girls, including lording it up in the wigs they brought with them on their trip. It was satisfying for me especialy to have hair again, its been years since i have gone to scratch my head and got my fingers wrapped up in that wonderful stringy mess. even better was to feel a mullett slapping around my neck. i havent had a mullett since 1984 !... we said out goodbyes, i know i wasnt the only one wishing i could dump my luggage and take the girls pillion away to ushuaia !

from left to right : lauren, vanessa, moi, katherine. we sit round the hostel garden talking fragile x syndrome. a real constructive pleasure with laughs !

at last i have hair !! i didnt wanna give the syrup back ! was already wondering how the blond locks would look in the wind along the road, under my lid. .. any suggestions for look a likes ? cant help seeing a stressed brian may in mike (middle bloke) and ricky jervais, post head banging concert in dan (far right bloke). i miss mullets !

Out of Puno, it didnt take long to reach the border with bolivia. i was excited. what do you know of bolivia ? i only know what i hear and that isnt alot. they say it is south americas poorest country. some say civil wars looms. an indigenious president. that can not be a bad thing for the majority of its residents surely, can it ?.. the highest capital city on earth. a salt desert, surrounded by multi coloured luna landscapes. thats about it for what i have heard. riding along side lake titicaca, i see a vast mountain range on the other side from this peruvian side, looking more fierce and white than any other i have seen. my excitement grows into me laughing like a baboon inside my private life of a crash helmet. lake titcaca the highest navigable lake on earth is shared by peru and bolivia. we have to cross where the countries almost join with a pennisular coming from either side. copacobana is the town just on the bolvian side. the crossing is easy for me, but not that great for dan and mike , coz they are from the states. bolivia has set a $130 charge for states people to enter. joined with heavy forms to fill. im left sitting on the steps of the aduana, wonderng what this place will bring whilst the chaps boil their blood trying to cross. Its all down to mr bush not being happy with evo morales, the bolvian president. i wont go into that though. The faces have changed this side. a more mongolian eastern asian look appears to me. the ladies hats are even more extreme here. the dress, still as colourful as peru and the other andian countries. i am still working on the history of the boler and other hats here. i have asked but get blank stares of distress.

sitting on the bolvian frontier aduana steps, watching like a baby the new syles , faces and wonders.

bienviendos a bolvia

As soon as we hit copocabana, a small beach resort on the edges of bolivian titcaca i found what i have been looking for since the dalton highway. a seat cover ! i have no rear end now. the 16000ish miles have given me a flat back side. the standard kawasaki seat is no way good for a long haul. this llama hide (above) is a gift from the universe to me ! ahhhhhhhh, mmmmmmm, blissssssssss. now the miles go on with no arghhhhhhhhhhhhssss every 50 miles.

copocabana market day

the big high blue of lago titcaca

my first sight of bolivia from the peruvian side of the lake. " how am i gonna ride this ? " crosses my excited mind.

crossin the 2 pennisulas was a nut case boat ride on these boats (above) the hulls are just wrotten loose planks. the waves came and went, rocking us into screams of "amigo pleaseeeeee help me im going down " non of us did drop luckily though. the boys on the boats know exactly what they are doing. from then on its a small climb up into the andian plateau, which is bolvia. a desert comes again , so i must be on this plateau. la paz is 2 hours away. we need gas. no stations have any. we see a bunch of motorcycle police in a small town, we stop and ask for gas . there is some in a sweet shop. the lady stiches mike right up in charging him a tenner for half a gallon. lapaz comes. the usual wave of koas, i still dont know if i love or hate this wave. i am left exilerated after though, everytime and that afterwards beer is always the best beer. we turn a corner. my pannier falls off again. i stick it back on and look up to see la paz. i have honestly never seen anything like it. nothing. this sight is up there with seeing my first grizzzly close up in alaska. with my first wolf in the grass, watching me in canada. finding thomas cavendishs plundering bay, in mexico. my first smile off a latin lady. having the brooks range to myself. incredible. 3500 metres in the sky. if you live at sea level, go outside now and look up 2 and half miles. thats where la paz is. the city is neatly spread like summer butter on morning fat toast, around the bottom of a steep canyon ringed by more snow capped jagged peaks. again the photos go nowhere to capturing this shocking place. Im here to meet Aon. i am still carrying a disapointment with not meeting aon lima. it was a mixture of a busy aon, who where still very responsive to me, and a knackered me that led to that disapointment. I deeply appologise to Jorge at AON lima. Time not helping either. so i am determined not to feel that disapointment again. I email senor Jose Luis Contreras at AON La Paz. Straight away i get a response of please do come see us and let us help..........................

Bolivian biker police. Smiles , well wishes and loads of sarcasm and then they are away. dust everywhere like a heard of cowboys in days of old. i wouldnt wanna be on a bike and on the run from this lot. would stand a chance.

La Paz at first view. shocking, breath taking, taking the small breath i have left at this altitude........... i didnt move for ages staring at this sight. the clouds leave dark shadows as they are always so close.

The ride from the peru - bolvia border is through a high plateau , the altiplano... its a straight line at 4500 metres up . on the right , nothing, just a vast orange marshan landscape touching the horizon. on the left, those fierce mountains. ... you ride into the cities suburbs, taxis, vehicle repair shops everywhere. dust, llamas on leads. half built buildings. and half kaos, knowing the real madness of the wave is to come...... turn a corner and then this (above 2 photos). this deep canyon, where the spanish built a city hiding from the high winds of the plateau. la paz is magnificant. i wasnt expecting this. i will stop bleeting on about it now. even though it deserves it.............. we find a hotel. a grand place, in a grand place. a great price for an englishman on a dodgy budget.......

I get a taxi to AON La Paz. Its a long away from where i am sleeping. Above is Torre Ketal, the building Aon are at. Im greated by senor Contreras, in that brilliant latin american way. Big smiles and hand shakes. we sit in his grand office surrounded by beautiful works of art he has collected. i bleet on again for an hour. Jose is very interested and perseptive, regarding Fragile X Syndrome. He knows an editor of a large bolivian newspaper. we are in the motions of arranging some publicity as i type. fingers crossed.... I am given free roaming of the office again. Jose names names of Aon london employees he deals with . i know the names, from handing out envelopes. He names other Latin American employees, who i have met on the journey, that puts a big grin on my face and feelings of missing new friends..... Aon la paz is growng fast. they are ARS, the new Benfields (didnt know that happened) and consulting. 2001 it started to grow. they are the only international broker in Bolivia. they have 2 offices. one in la paz and one in santa cruz. 19 people work in la paz. another great bunch of friendly hospitable people. thank you again AON !

View from floor 4. aons floor in the Torre Ketal building. La Paz. red mountains that glow in the direct sunlight.

Myself and Senor Jose Luis Contreras. A real pleasure to meet him. All welcoming, with smiles, friendliness and interest. Thank you !

The Aon bunch, La Paz. all great fun and welcoming, again. i go in there like an alien disrupting the day, they dont mind whatsoever.

Reception. Aon. La Paz. Bolivia

the road out of la paz has taken me to a once sparkling silver mountain that created an empire, taking millions of lives. now a raped shell of a mound, sparkling nothing. Potosi and a euro beast. this landscape should be more at home beyond pluto ! Bolivia the strange !! bolvia a shocking original to this unseasoned me ! fantastic !

into the hills - peru

2008-11-30T19:46:00.006Z

1 Four nights in Lima and out. Jeffs on the missing list again. Matters of the heart this time. Eros uses a lot of arrows down here. missing me at the moment though. A good thing, coz of my time schedule. Mikes hungrey to get going. We all decided to ride together till The ends of Bolivia. We have different agendas from there. Lima is huge. A long city of different shades. I stayed in the miraflores light part. Walked miles around the darker centro. old colonial buildings again. mostly grey and peeling. smells of beef heart skewers in the smokey air. People all over. weathered smiles or cracked stares. Its all a lot to take in. Riding out took an hour or so. Follow the coast and ya cant go wrong. Back into the desert. The day is long and we do good miles. An hour before the notorious dark gets us, my clutch cable snaps in 2. Oh ! mike and i try all sorts of naive bodge jobs. nothing works. Ica, a historic town is only 5 or so miles away. A man and his mate pull up and mike asks them if they wouldnt mind sticking my bike in the back of their truck and take us to a mechanico in Ica. They agree, with a payment of 20 dollars. im happy with that. its that or i dont know what. After cramp in all limbs from staying stiff trying to hold the bike on the truck we get to a tiny mechanics whole in the wall, with a self painted honda sign above. a new cable and im away, in the dark to sleep at a parratt infested oasis named huacachina. sand dunes like sky scrapers circle this lagoon, where dune buggys fill peoples days with nut case driving and rolling, along with sand boarding and discos forever. Nasca isnt far now. we get there deciding not to fly over the lines, coz of the steep cost and after being told by loads that you cant get a decent view anyway. turns out thats a matter of opinion. I climbed a viewing tower and saw some sort of pattern in the surface . it dosnt matter what people think of them. this is a vast plain of dust with mysterious carvings covering that dust. Let the theories rain forever. mind you, Why would Aliens need a landing strip. surely if they managed to navigate here from 15000000000000 light years away, they could find away to actually land ! At Nazca im chuffed to see the road to cusco turns east up up and away again. the road is deserted. it carves its way around the yellow dunes soon to become yellow and brown rocks. vegitation shows up again, in stark cactus. straining for life. We roll high now, looking back at the pacific in the dusty distance. in the forground those dunes darkening by the falling sun. the direction we go is straight up. i know im above 4000 metres these days coz my moodyness shows up and i struggle to even get off the bike at a stand still. Im well low on gas now. a village turns up with the 5 local inhabitants all sitting on their steps. Gas comes from a shed in a lemonade bottle. its 84 octane but im pleased as a fat fish to see it, in all its dark brown wrongness. 10 miles up, the bike chokes to a stop. sheeeeet ! im stuffed now. we are very high. its freezing. breathing is very hard. But as luck would have it again. this isnt quite exactly the middle of nowhere. 3 buildings 100 yrds on the left . one large official delapidated building 100yards to the right. I cant believe that in one of these buildings is an old lady on her own and she has 1 gallon of 90 octane for me to buy. the universe works for me again ! one of the other buildings is ruined , no one home and the other has a charming mum and daughter outfit that sell everything a man needs in this raw place and likes to laugh at this soppy englishbloke, without a clue. I wish i could remember their names. mum is hard as rock, but can laugh like a banshee. daughter is only 6 i guess but isnt sshy and has had to grow up fast up here alone with just mum. She lights a parafin lamp after climbing chairs to reach it. These grubby cheeked kids i meet, have got right to me. lovable laughing interested little humans, who all grew up to quick. its too late now to move from here. this andian plain gets very impossible dark and even colder in the evenings. After coca teas we land at the official looking place opposite. it is a hostel of sorts. mike and me end up in this dark room, that resembles pure horror film. bats included. we screamed once and shivered the night away with almost sleep. What a sunrise. the land is all golden glowing felds. the sky is so so big blue and white. Alpacas blend in with the terrain and scare ya , sticking their necks into the roads, followed by a charge , just when a motorbike is on them. The road rises higher over the clouds then back down into the valleys. All climates today. ending up a night in abancay. a large town spread around a mountains curves. Cuzco tomorrow and machu picchu awaits. This road is one of the best riding i have ever ridden.

I met this bird right !

Huacachina parrat

.mum and daughter help me be a laughing stock up here very high altittude, syphoning dodgy 84 octane out. The bike has a real struggle above 4000 metres with teh lack of air. so when ya put low grade petrolin the poor beast hasnt a chance. i got lucky again up here to find the 90 i needed. was a pleasure spending a night with these 2 and this atmospheric land

next morning coffee and goodbyes.

Puquio - peru

the high plains . dont blink though coz this vast nothing can become a jagged high something in a flash of flame

looking down on the weather. not beng part of it yet.

desolate high andes

lalalalallammas, could be alpacas. im not sure yet.

Peruvian andes

the villages are all over and at any altitude

cusco suburbs

Fragile X Pedition article in the ecuador newspaper El Comercio

2008-11-25T11:40:00.004Z

Click link for the nationwide article :

http://www.elcomercio.com/noticiaEC.asp?id_noticia=238001&id_seccion=23&id_seccion_padre=241

Into Peru

2008-11-20T14:16:00.012Z

The northern deserts of peru. Hot isolated and ancient.

A brief lesson in how to go very slow in a desert. best stick to the road simon !

Huanchaca beach. north of trujillo.

Through Aldo and Jeff we managed this TV interview in Trujillo. Jeff kindly translator again.

trujillo at just before dusk. a stunning colonial city.

trujillo colourful

me, mike, jeff, aldo, rosa maria & rosa maria jnr. A wonderful generous family. we had laughs and great food. i wish them all the best for future ventures

into the dirt east of of the pan american. these gents help us on our way in a right direction

rascal tarantula

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

the road up and up to pamparomas

leaving the hospidaje in pamporamas

pamporama

pamporamas from above reaching into the 44oo metre zone

jeff of the andes

the road up. the villages and people change to the days of old

starting to strain for breath and control the strop`s

at the highest point and very slobbery knackered

its hard to get better than this.

oops. got cocky on the dirt. the back locked up in a corner. i danced with a ditch. alls ok apart from a split stomach from laughing

heading higher. the gravel is calmer here

up and up

cordillera blancas from huaraz

huaraz. the town were out on the streets.

Huaraz festivities

colourful and fun huaraz

These dogs are a common sight down here. apparently a favorite pet to the incas. no fur apart from a mohawk

blancas. high

coming down into the pacific once more

outside lima. they have made a road splitting the dunes

as above

the lima suburbs

Jeff has disapeared, his KTM taking him over the horizon into thin air. He had his own agenda for crossing the border. Mike and myself reached the border town of Huaquillas as dusk was setting in. The town was glowing with neons and live bands. People everywhere. the dust and sand of those pacific desert regions constantly dancing in circles, mini tornados. always in ya eyes and gumbs. No way was a crossing a good idea at that time. find a hotel till sun up. The hotel was in a dark part of town. we are told to get cabs if we are leaving the huge iron gates of the hotel. As it turns out the place was a pay by the hour lurvvvvve motel again. noisy all night, but i have got used to drifting in and out of sleep all and everynight. I met a friendly chap in the town that night, Santiago. A man very interested in the trip and in understanding fragile x syndrome. i chatted to him for hours, sittting on a curb side...... Sun up, weºre out and across a very busy border. no trouble what so ever. im used to borders now. no almost in tears stress. the peruvian aduana bloke was a laugh, we almost became mates. got ripped off with a moody 50 soles note. learnt that lesson early. the street cambio people are the rascals. The road south into northern peru is just a yellow orange, with a touch of hazy brown green vegitation here and there, kind of visual. roads that touch the horizon and seem to touch the skies limit. From the border to a city named Piura we rode, head down. angled into the strong cross winds and drifts. A new experience but one that lost its novelty quite quickly. Mancora came and went in its, surfers heaven way. wonderful hostels and hotels lining the pacific coast. A night in Piura, perus oldest city, then south again, through an even vaster desert. nothing here. yellow bleakness at its best. an odd house to the right or left, with an old car. men and women standing in the sand sometimes apparently nowhere near anything. they smile and wave. The only sound when stopping for a water sip, is the wind. teh heat is at its most and the haze covers all the horizon in wobbly waterishness.. Jeff is still nowhere to be seen. maybe he got a bad result at the border and couldnt leave ecuador. The bones of a cow lay by the road side. turkey buzzards watching for the next meal. Yellow villages line the way at 30 mile-ish intervals. houses , one square with 2 windows and a door. the kids run about laughing and terrorising the local dogs. A night passes in chiclayo, then off to trujillo, some say perus second city. Jeff shows up grinning red faced, eagerly telling mike and me that he is staying in a freind of a friends place and we are welcome to also. Aldo shakes my hand and insists i stay at his families home just down the road in trujillos old town. What a stroke of luck and generosity. The families home is a 3 story casa, with spiraling staircase up the centre. Green plants potted and hanging off everywhere. its outside inside. Aldo introduces me to his gorgeous family. wife, rosa maria, and 4 kids, jose, ricardo, the sweetheart rosa maria jnr and the new born tania sofia. We stay for 4 days. jeffs bike is a bit of a mess, so he sorts that out. As it turns out i hit the jackpot again. Aldos mate works for the peruvian TV station Canal 15. he has organised a TV interview. My first one of the trip outside the UK. We go eat with the families relatives in a new trujillo shopping centre. i cop out again and eat a big mac. we visit chan chan. A pre colombian ruin. a desert city, mile after mile. spread along the pacific coast. a ruin thats being preserved. built in 850 A.D. before the incan empire. Sacked and taken over by the incas in the late 1400s. A stunning place for an active imagination as the sun drops into the sea, throughing shadows over the ruins. After hard and thank you so much goodbyes, we left the stunning colourful old town of trujillo and aldos family to head south and bend eastwards into the andes and away from teh desert pacific. A few hours we chuck a left, off of the pan american straight lines. The map says its 114kms to the cordillera blancas, up and over teh cordillera negras. the blancas hold alot of perus highest peaks, snow capped and grand. the dirt and sand roads come quick. my heart is in my gumbs again, but after an hour my confidence builds. We pass up from arrid into damp lushness. the road gets steep and thin as it switchbacks its way high, where the airs thin and my strops get bigger. The altitude gives me a short fuse always. but i would rather that than a full on brain boldge pushing my eyes into golf balls. I meet my first tarantula in the wild . the little nutter was trying to hide scarpering across my path. the size of a box of matches, but im told highly poisonous. The views from these hills i cant begin to write about. i dont know how. the photos dont capture them either. the atmosphere is the same. I can say that i feel as contented as possible. Villages are splattered across the valleys. small villages filled with the andian people of colourful dress and tall refined hats that seem out of place. A history of these hats must be there, i have to find out how they came to be here. Farm fields are ploughed at impossible angles. Nights getting near. the dusk is daunting at this hight and the skinny roads, but all is ok and we land at 3000 metres in the andian village of pamporomas. a hospidaje is awaiting with fired pollo and chips. a whole pollo. the whole village comes to greet us. im stuffed, i go to sleep with ease. Next day its off higher up the road through the clouds and spirral back again. jeffs gps reads 4400 metres. i am exhausted getting off the bike and resting on a rock. we see more than one or two vallies below. thats where we are heading. in all it took 12 hours to do around 150 kms. Huaraz is that evenings sleep place. a lively town surrounded by the blancas and negras. A climbers fantasy town. Lima awaits though so we blast out of huaraz, after meeting ryan the cyclist, whos cycling from canada to ushuaia then boating across to africa and cycling up that continent ! nut case ! a great bloke, inspiring. Back down from the heights and into more air, my strops disapear, luckily for me, coz one argument with a track driver was enough, especialy as we both didnt understand each others harsh language. Huaraz to lima via a night in fishy Barranca, with hair dressers all desiring to cut and play with jeffs blond locks. Might dye my hair blond, well whats left of it that is. Lima is huge. it starts from a sand duned shouldered pacific race track tarmac and finishes i dont know where yet. as i write this i look out onto a grand garden , unlike the usual plazas i have seen. APEC are conferencing here right now. Mr Bush is in town. the city is humming, art is everywhere. a band are banging out hypnotic, sombre horns. I smell bacon from another part of the hostel.

up the peaks into the jungle & back again - Ecuador

2008-11-14T13:45:00.007Z

very pleased after 3 great publications in quito thanks to Patricio and Aon.

Mike. a great rider on his ktm 950. great fun with large adventurous tendancies. http://www.mahridingsouth.blogspot.com/

Jeff who i met in quito and his alien queen resembling KTM 650. He helped loads as a translator with the el comercio interview in quito. http://web.mac.com/jeffsherren/iWeb/MY%20WORLD%20ON%20A%20KTM/Welcome.html

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Riding out of quito was easy. I couldnt help feeling quite satisfied with the way the publicity rolled. I have to be honest though, i couldnt have got the attention of the big newspapers without patricios help. I wont ever be able to say thanks enough in a lifetime to Him and the Aon office. The same with Peter, Alvaro and the medellin Aon office. Still riding with minnesota mike , we caught another rider leaving quito. Jeff, from alberta canada on another KTM, but the slightly smaller 650 version. still a proper, tough adventure machine. how am i sposed to keep up with these 2 ?,,,,,,, we left the city getting lost and riding north. after finding our way again we headed south easterly. the map showed a secondary route, skimming the amazon jungles rim. Quito is relatively not that high a city, but riding the road we chose, sank down into the sweltering heat of the jungle. the secondary rode became a dry stream of loose rocks and boulders, that throw the front end of the bike into sharp aggresive directions. my arms ached and my heart raced everytime i picked up the pace only to be shocked into an almost stand still by the bike suddenly charging for directions i didnt want. The road was littered with shadows of giant leaves and strange trees of many a shape and size. all kinds of shades of green. dappled sunlight and the dramatic sounds of insects and gawd knows what. Villages of bamboo came and went. Faces of the residents smiling at us. At any stop the kids come charging over shouting and excited. great kids, not shy at all. The road was bad for half a day, then it suddenly became smooth black stuff once more. i wanted to get down on my knees and kiss the stuff, with relief. Mike and jeff thrive on the dirt. i couldnt keep up. For me super dirt riding is painful in my learning, but on looking back i wouldnt have the road any other way. one day i will master it and do what they advise, in, when in doubt throttle out, skimming the surface in a straight line , instead of screaming in my helmet and sliding into ditches. with mates cracking up at my wetness. Night came. a town with a beautiful rapid river view. hardly any cost to the room. the rain fell all night , making me doubious of the next days ride in slush and slpperyness. it wasnt that way though. the road had dryed and we blasted out of the jungle rim and back up into the clouds heading for cuenca city. That ride was one of the best yet. the tarmac wasnt bad. the again sinuous cliff side racing up into the familiar mist. the clouds running along side at the same speed. pina con leches at all stops. ecuador is amazing. a hidden gem, as is all south america. one hour in the jungle, one hour in the andes. and back again in a day. I still couldnt keep up. those KTMs are fast. My KLR isnt, but i still love her. shes still going strong after 13000 miles. only 2 parts have dropped off. parts i dont need. Cuenca. another gorgeous colonial town. balconies of all colours again. huge wooden carved to perfection door ways on all edificios, big or small. we have to park our bikes in the hotel restuarant. no one minds. From cuenca its a few hours ride to the border with peru. the mountains are growing. now there is 3 rows back of going darker peaks, instead of just one in view. We must be nearing peru i think. My right side panniers decides to fall off. No problem. no bolts or fittings have broken. phewww, i am lucky ! ..... I cant believe my nite watch either ! its the only watch i have ever had that takes a right old battering and doesnt even have one hairline scratch on the face. it really does do what it says on the box ! it really is a tough adventurous watch. We loose jeff. oh well, im sure he will show up along the way.

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up out of the amazonian jungle into the andes once more
ecuadorian andian town high up in through the mists

oops. on the rim of the amazonian jungle

the jungle. hot and beautiful. the riding was getting hard. roads of rocks that send the bike dancing in steps i found hard to dance with.

kids from a jungle town. full af laughter and inquisitive inteligence. they spoke in broken spanish and kechua.

jungle town kids

the riding get interesting heading up into the clouds

slippery roads get the heart racing and the knuckles a shade of white

ecuador andes

splash. the waterf falls into the mountain roads. ecuador

in one day. the mountains down into the jungle then back up into the mountains. incredible shocking vistas along the way.

ecuador . enjoying the tarmac while it lasts

the KLR can be fast. honest

splash again.............................. NEXT INTO THE NORTHERN DESERTS OF MYSTERIOUS PERU !

From the middle of the world

2008-11-06T21:08:00.007Z

Banos, ecuador. the village sits at the foot of tungurahua , a volcano, thats quiet right now, but always up for some red hot spewing. gonna find a way up it today. 2 years ago vacuation.
Aon Quito. Thnak you. i wish i could remember everyones names.
All fun and helpful at Aon Quito
I was welcomed with open arms and big smiles. Aon quito

{above photo at the equator}......... I rode out of Medellin, Colombia heading south with mike and willy. Mike from minnesota on a gorgeous ktm 950 and willy on his saucy bmw gs1200, all gadgets inclusive. Paul owner of the casa kiwi lead us out of town, which i am grateful for, that saved the habitual getting lost , sweaty and a tad stroppy. as soon as we were out of town the mountain roads took us , winding higher and higher. Passing through villages, built on the peaks. Sometimes above the clouds with the buzzards to keep us company and always a symbol of to be careful. i dont wanna be their grub. As night was near i managed to loose the boys and take the wrong road. I stayed in Anserma. a small town once again built on the edge of a mountain, beautiful and friendly. Realising the boys would be in santa rosa i managed to catch up with them blasting down to popayan. a colonial town celebrating haloween in gorey style. This is a part of the world that they say is a hotspot, due to guerilla activity. I saw nothing threatening or cold. just more freindly faces and good wishes. pasto is the town we needed as a last stop before the border with ecuador. 3000 metres up in the mist. willy had blasted off, leaving mike and myself to cut through the damp mountain mist into the early night. it was dificult. cold and vision was almost zero. we had to wait and just follow a cars rear lights. when that car disapeared , we`d have to wait and catch the next car. mike got disorientated at one point , stopped and didnt know whether he was unside down or not, which infected to me and we both dropped the bikes at a stand still. laughing our heads off laying on the wet tarmac. That night in pasto, scoffing chicken and rice mike had the horrendous realisation, with his head in his hands, that he had left all his papers, back at the previous nights hotel in popayan, under his matress. 150 miles back along a beautiful, difficult ride. All his legal in colombia papers everything. Alongside getting the bike nicked this is the worse thing that can happen. Alls rosy now though, we took a taxi back the next day, which took all day. Victor was our nutcase driver, who without fibbing, nearly got us meeting our maker more than 20 times, including just narrowly missing a donkey, who was wistfully standing around a corner in the middle of the night time road. i still cant guess how he managed to avoid that one. he just laughed all the close shaves off, in that , oh well, what will be will be way. I am a lucky man ! i dont take that for granted though !....... crossing the border was a breeze. 40 minutes. all the windows and offices needed all colse to each other. the only problem was trying to get these tequila supping nutters off of the bikes to let us out of colombia. all good fun. The clouds are down so far in ecuador. until today that is. the bluest of blue skies and visible volcanoes at last. The faces have changed now. the people smaller. indeginous ways, clothes , smells and foods. incredibly interesting just to sit and people watch. weathered faces telling so much. giggling kids , waving from the road shoulders. After a few stop overs in more beautiful towns and crossing the equator into the southern hemisphere and summer, i`ve landed in Quito. ecuadors heaving capital city. the easiest to navigate city i have visited so far. clean and stunning this place. many many euro tourists. all waiting to go off into their own adventures, mountain climbind, white water rafting, horse riding. all sorts. this is a hubb. Volcanos majestic overlooking the city. The last eruption, around 5 years ago. I have been spoiled by the Aon office here, as i was in medellin. Olvaro put me intouch with patricio rodriguez at the quito office. i visited them to day, to have a newspaper photographer waiting for me and an interview already set up the national paper named, Hoy. I was also warmly recieved by gustavo proano tola, alberto davalos b, alejandra garzan and all that work there. They all took time from their busy days to listen to my story and heartfeltly wished me sucess. My good luck hasnt changed yet. gustavos daughter diana. just so happens to work as a journalist, for the Hoy newspaper. She interviewed me over an hour, asking great questions. understanding fragile x syndrome. again no one has heard of FXS, but now they have. The article is released next wednesday. check it out at the website http://www.hoy.com.ec/ .. El comercio the national paper of ecuador interviewed me with high passion also. their article on the FXP will be released in their sunday supplement called Famlilia, 2 months from now. so keep an eye open for that one. also while doing that interview, a young lady from an organisation that helps families in need also interviewd me, so theres another article out there....... patricio is a motorcycle fantatic aswell. he has invited me to ride out on saturday with his friends, to ride some great roads and see more vistas, that i wouldnt have seen otherwise. Like in medellin i will never forget these peoples generosity, understanding and huge help. I have definatly fallen in love with south america ! i am pushed for time now. must get my skates on.....

border. colombia into ecuador

buzzard

mike and me. my klr and his ktm. a beast.

guillermo and family. Otavalo, ecuador

otavalo residents

market town otavalo

quito from the Aon office

warm latin american welcomes again !

Quito. a heavy mass of wonderfulness

Gustavo and patricio. Aon Quito. Top blokes. no end of help to the FXP.

Aon quito

Diana and patricio interviewing me, from the Aon office

Aon employees hard at it.

the aon building

Colombia - It really is dream land

2008-11-01T13:22:00.009Z

Arauca

Risaralda

risaralda

Santa Barbara - Colombia.

Santa Barbara - Colombia

Paul and his Casa Kiwi Gang. Medellin Colombia. The perfect Hostel. Bikers get discount and paul is no end of help.

Santa Barabara. The town is built on top of a razor sharp mountain.

nanas

Coffee bush

Post landslide

This great family i had the pleasure to meet and ride with . 3 up and fast.

oops again

Jose. More pleasures riding with new mates. Supia Colombia

Met this bunch of kids in santa rosa near pereira. intelligent and fun. they were all ears about FXS

Pinapples definatly taste better here !

Popayan

With the fantastic help of Peter Sohm, Alvaro Uribe and the Aon Office in Medellin, we had an interview and publication in th eColombia newspaper, EL COLOMBIANO. Click to read the online article. I could never thank these amazing people enough !http://www.elcolombiano.com/BancoConocimiento/D/de_alaska_a_tierra_del_fuego_ruge_la_moto_de_simon/de_alaska_a_tierra_del_fuego_ruge_la_moto_de_simon.asp?CodSeccion=9

medellin

2008-10-28T14:40:00.014Z

Kind of cow head piggy face teddy bear flower. colombia

After a great feed along side the truckers the night before i wasnt desiring grub on this cool almost cold 8am morning. the mist was still clinging to the hills, the sun light hazy visible in that way that reasures she will be at full glow later in the day. As i am loading the bike a bloke with a 250 crossers is doing the same. a man with a hard face. i dont stare to much. he comes over with that hard face and bleets on about my bike and his bike, that im sure of. then jumps on his and flys off spinning the rear end 180 degrees , throwing up dirt and stones all over me. oh well, i smile thinking ill shatter his ego later down some long straight, my 650 will eat him up. not that theres anything great about roasting someone on a straight, maybe around some mountain hairpin has more skills showing offness... with all that nonsense forgotten after 5 miles my bike starts smoking from all over. the engine is coughing up , even the right hand hand guard looks like its smoking. my right leg is covered in oil, then i notice everything is covered in oil, arghhhhhhh. i stop and see that i have lost the engine oil cap. the only morning i didnt check its tightness since alaska ! all coz some prat got jealous and distracted me. Lucky for me though i had stopped by one of those small tiendas that sell crisps and water that you find every few miles with not much else around for ages. Im covered in oil and my only idea is to maybe stick an old t-shirt where the cap should be. I ask the pretty girl serving the tienda if she has tissues for me. she has and she has 2 brothers with a motorcyle as it happens. Jairo and yorsman. they look like they are in their early 20s. Yorsman jumps on his bike without a word and disapears in the direction i have just came from. Jairo speaks better english than my spanish. he says that yorsman is off looking for the cap along the road side following my trail of lost oil. Jairo stares at the bike saying there is a town a few miles off rural zone silence with the odd mnnnnnmmaaaaaa from a cow. half hour later yorsman is back with no smile. didnt find the cap. he rides off again to the near town. Jairo tells me hes off to medellin also today and that i can ride with him. an hour later yorsman returns without a smile again . im not smiling much at this point either. just groaning... the boys disapear into their tienda and return 10 mins later with a tube of solid wood, carved. they measure the diameter of the wood to the hole where the cap should be in the engine. im thinking nah, chips will get mangled in the engine and thats the trip spent. it works. the wood is screwed into the engine and its solid ! perfection, genius ! the wood doesnt budge. and to top off the kindness and time these 2 boys have given up what they was doing for me they rode around showing me the back rural parts of the region. Antioquia a queen of hearts part of the world. towns and hills i would never have seen. serenity everywhere. After another 4 hours we are riding around the mountain roads, dodging on coming trucks and trying not to slide off the edge. these boys are fast, even twoz up on a 125. they jsut miss an oncoming truck , ooooooooooohhhh that was very close. we all laugh about it in that phew you got away with that one mate this time, kind of motorcyclists way. Medellin sits in the belly of a vast valley. buildings crawl up the westside and east side of the valley. down the middle is the main centro sections. i have never seen a city like it. Its rush hour madness.the boys lead me to a bike shop they know. anothe rcolombian calle filled with just bike shops. colombia loves her motocecletas. Im given a free cap, its probably not worth more than 5 quid , but isnt the point !. its the correct kawasaki klr cap, what a relief. im gonna keep that piece of wood for ever though. the shop is named auteco. cra 50 no.37 -15,,,, email:dismedellin@une.net.co.... if you are in town and need bike help, go see these generous knowledgable people... we say goodbye. i will never forget these 2. jairo and yorsman. thank you so much !! I eventually found my medellin hostel, after one of the mechanics from auteco showed me through the rush hour darkness where it was, more unconditional kindness. the casa kiwi. owned by paul from the states. a rider who rode through colombia 6 years ago and decided to stay. the casa is perfect. full of great new friends. pauls gives a discount to motorcyclists. another gaff thats gonna be hard to leave.... im starting to understand why some people travel through this country and end up staying....... Medellin has an Aon office. A few months before i left the UK i had been put in contact with a chap named peter who is colombian but worked for Aon in London for 2 years. After one emial to him , peter was well up for helping me in anyway once i got here. I call pete, he wants to meet. we meet. he takes me in his car up the winding east side of the city valley to a beautiful spot overlooking the great city. a restuaurant.he orders some classic colombian grub and agua ardeiente, fire water.... a large plater comes out topped with chorizo, morsilla ( black pudding mixed with rice), chicharon ( large crispy pork), arepa ( soft tasty corn bread). empanadas. mincey stuff in crispy corn pastry ( pastyish). i am in love with empanadas. a salad, avacados , tomatos, coconut all chopped and sliced, topped in lime and salt, peter generously pays for all.... he tells me he has talked to the Aon medellin people and they are looking forward to meeting me. they are even trying to get contact with the cities medias. Wow , again all this genuine colombian unconditional help. peter is great company. hes a handglider. he jumps off mountains with only a small triangular frame, a canvas above and alot of skill and braveness. can handgliding be topped with any other activity ? he tells me of life in past colombia. it doesnt seem possible that people could have lived in that way. pablo escobar used to run the town with his narco tactics and fear mungering. pretending to be robin hood. You really couldnt walk around at night. bombs relentless, fathers desapearing in the night. guns everywhere. those days are gone. colombia is safe now. it will grow into a global treasure of a tourist spot. i only hope it doesnt spoil. peter has given the Aon people my hostel number. I get a call from Alvaro. he has great english and we meet . again i am treated generously to the meal. stake in a cherry type delicious sausce, chips, salad and pomegranate drinks. mmmmmmmm ! Alvaro is a very perceptive guy. he has lived in europe for a few years, but decided to settle in his home town. who can ever blame him ! after the meal he takes me to the office, a short stroll through a medellin park filled with unusual trees and plants. Alvaro tells me of medellin history and its people. Again stuff i wouldnt have known on my own. At the office i am greated with smiles and much interest .there are 50 employees here. Aon medellin deal with health and damages. personal and nusiness health which is law. damages in construction paublic liability and transport over land and seas. Alvaro has brilliantly sorted out a meeting with a medellin newspaper in the morning and he has kindly written an article about the Fragile X pedition, to all aon employees in colombia. they have offices is bogota, cali, cartagena and bucarramanga. fantastic ! .. i have to mention this fruitcake i met here in the casa kiwi. Tod from kentucky. he is driving a car from prudhoe bay down to ushuaia. A toyota 4 runner. right now he is in guayaquil, ecuador waiting for its release, after shipping the car from panama city, with more stress and worries than ever imagined i recon. todd is top man and has some great stories. to find him check out : http://www.thegetupproject.org/ Thanks also to gillian from ireland, she has been my PR person since we met, and she taught me how to dance like jim carrey. the casa kiwi another perfect place full of interesting fun people from all over. all with magic stories and adventurous addictions.

the wooden work of genius. an oil change later and a new cap. alls rosy.

jairo and yorsman. top colombian geezers !

the boys at Auteco bike shop medellin. a right laugh and they no what they are doing.

peter from medellin who worked at aon london in recent years. superb company and very generous in all ways. a fearless flyer of handgliders.

colombian tapas style lunch

Aon Medellin. Alvaro handing out Fragile x Syndrome info

Aon employees

Alvaro and mary the receptionist. aon medellin

the 1st floor gang. aon medellin

medellin

medellin won 2-0. my first latin america footy experience. a fiesta. a very passionate crowd

medellin fc

medellin residential

looking west medellin

looking east medellin

2008-10-25T00:07:00.002+01:00

I left Cartagena snapping my finger nails clinging to the times had. almost destroying the hotel holidays reception area, with my fat panniers and mild incoherance. Bounced down the Getsmani curb and wisked away south by the relatively mellow traffic. Half mile out finding the calle el mundo de motocicletas. A road seemingly miles long, every shop a motorcycle shop with bikes rasping in and out like an ants nest. Dust and deisel everywhere. Buses arguing with their horns and passangers hanging out of the door ways arms swinging in gestures. Here i found my high viz jacket with number plate glued on the back. number plate on helmet also. apparently not that necessary for tourists but better no hassle safe than sorry. Another half mile the road stops. traffics mayhem and the road works have no suggestion of an alternative direction. Stuff this i say and lay up at a sweet shop drinking water and chatting football to the man utd supporting shop keeper. he has heard of the mighty eagles. im chuffed to bits and wanna give him my palace top, but decide to not to. how else will i educate latin america on real football !! . thoughts of another night back in colourful cartagena, but i would be a laughing stock. ... im off, 10mins later im lost again. not even out of the suburbs. A bloke on a C90 riding one handed. his left hand carrying his work brief case, the laundry , what might be his grand children and the dog , leads me to the alley way i need to get to the southern hills. medellin, medellin i shout at him. his balance on the step through is incredible in the traffic...its not long and im slicing through farmland with perfume aromas, not the typical farmland stench. small villages made up of tiny square houses with one door and windows either side, palm roofs. colourful paintwork always. Flowers, all colours and sizes perfectly taken care of surround these casas. The landscape is vast. tight steep hills blending into each other with no fences. very green. all shades of green under the sun and moving clouds. coes with baggy necks and huge big ears stand tall on the steepness. The rains bring an unneeded solace. im probably the most content i have ever been. this goes on for 4 hours. twighlight comes in purple. I only get as far as Sincelejo 189kms, where i find a cheap flash hotel with a hamburger and the skinniest cerveza bottle ever. Aircon and loads of "MMMMMMMMM" and "AAAAHHHHHHHS" as i sink into a huge soft pillow.....Up and out early . 8a.m. im excited to ride again after scrambled eggs, flat corn and flat arepa. i meet Adrianna the artist. The toy town vastness rolls into the first peaks i have seen since middle mexico. more than just hills. is this the start of the andes ? Colombia has 3 cordilleras running north south. i have found the westerly spine. the breeze through my helmet is cool at last. The road turns into small straights , hairpins and perfect tarmac. 4th gear doesnt get a chance. it gets steep and thin. trucks stand still in the corners, then after the drivers have debated they crawl around the corners. The locals intelligently stroll through the corner traffic standstills selling melon, juices, water, empanadas and im not sure what . I want melon, but as soon as my lid comes off the traffic moves along. no melon for me. The steep dropoffs the side of the road are filled with those tiny houses again. made at low cost i guess. its ironic, the most uncostly housing built, on premier land overlooking grand, huge, incredible words cant find descriptions, vast vallies. probably some of the best scenery on earth. i cant help feeling happy for these people. they must know stuff i will never know. Apparently these lands are owned by officials in offices, but the locals just grab a plot and make a life there. Fantastic !....... its a climb for hours. it drops some then climbs again into the clouds. mysterious mist, where shapes just appear from the white. The road turns nastyish, gravel, potholes large and ramps cambering off the precipises, sliding you in that direction. Up and over the peaks. im down in a small town built into the sides of cliffs, some very steep. all buildings red brick. i gas up and meet victor from medellin. he has a honda 400 crosser that he blast up and over everywhere on. hes facinated with FXS and curious.Purple twilight again hanging over the far off peaks. i cant make medellin tonight. a hospedaje appears at a truck stop. all dusk, dust and deisel . men in wellies. no camo wear and wellies though, thank the universe !. pollo fritas y arroz started with beans big and sauce along side weary stained faced truckers, then im asleep. medellin tomorrow no doubt. its only 80ish kms away. what can go wrong ? i dont wanna ride at night here. JUST because i dont wanna miss anything in and around this landscape. colombia what a suprise it all is !

stepping back into the spainish main

2008-10-21T15:07:00.004+01:00

Cartagena is gorgeous. Its been a week now and i must leave. if i dont today i will never leave. so its a case of type this, breakfast , bank then finding the traffic flow that will wisk me out and south , starting the climb into the Andes. Its incredibly hot and humid here. at night it doesnt change. i need the cool air of the mountains. More heart felt friendships and goodbyes. its becoming a habit now. all dont want leave each others companies, but do and go into the future friendships of the next towns , with the hopes of bumping into each other by chance. Above is a pic of our last night . buddies from the san blas boat. patrick and karen. rolling around the planet unconventionaly, they are an inspiration for doing it ya own way. karina the colombian rascal, who has unwittingly taught me more spanish with our continuous banter than i have learned anywhere. and omer the adventurous israely, with his new shaved head and chin. we havent left each others side for a month, now we must. hes waiting for his girlfriend to arrive then riding south together..... Cartagena, the hubb of the old spanish main. A city that seems like parts of it havent moved along in 400 years. the old fortresses and cannon batteries are everywhere, still guarding the city. buildings, with ornate balconies painted all the colours possible. people of all mixes live together. relentless street hawkers, selling wooden spoons, panamain hats, moody oaklies and ray bans. men with flasks of coffee wander the streets, for 500 peses you get a shot of tasty sugary strong coffee on every pavement. beggers with a limb missing. colombia still has many many land mines all over the fields and hills. police and military all over, cant even count the amount of differences in uniforms. after a week i finaly am legal to ride off now. Insurance is law here. we managed to get some yesterday. all i need is a high vis jacket. in colombia there has been so many motorcycle drive by assasinations that bikers have to have their registrations written on their helmets and on a high viz over jacket. The nights are fun and lively loud. cuban bands blast out the bongos till the early hours. people salsa instead of walk to the next bar. oh well, the next palce, medellin has a top reputation also so maybe its not that hard to leave here. Im glad that i didint realise i went way to quick through central america and blasted through. i have more time down here. this is the continent that will send me into a vast wonder and wandering. bigger everything. more surreal for an englishman than anywhere could be.

the gang - cartagena fortress. overlooking the caribbean seas
getsemani. old, ruined and wonderful. the forgotten zone of cartagena
getsemani cartagena
old town cartagena
cartagena

cartagena
developing sides of cartagena
as above, with the old town tucked to the left
cartagena 400 years ago
sitting, ready for plundering enemies

paradise and warming up to ride the gaunlet

2008-10-16T16:09:00.009+01:00

I seem to be starting posts by saying "it was hard to leave". It was hard to leave Panama city. Not physicaly this time, but emotionaly..... Moving from the snoring Hotel Marbella to the casa de carmen was definatly the best thing i could have done. I hardly left the hostel carmen, for 4 days. Omer was staying there and it was alot cheaper than the hotels around. It became a home away from home.people came and went, generaly after a night, but i managed to meet the most wonderful people here, making a great unit of mates to sit up all night with eating pizza and sucking on the local ale. Taric and Hanna, an adventurous english couple , who have been moving around south america for months on end, in the living life to the full fast lane. cassy, an ozzy on her own . on her way to buenos aires to be part of an adventure show, aired over the world. melanie, a german working and living in panama. tzvie another israelie chap who had just sneeked across the border from colombia in a very unconventional way. . PJ the hilarious belgian, in love with latin america, who had us all cracking up all night long !. gayatu the anthropologist studying the northern panamanian indians. Eric the geezer from the baltimore hood, who educated me in the life they lead over there in the shadows of the rich . We all spent the days together sharing experiences and laughing till sun up. I truely miss these people and hope more than most stuff to meet them all again. With everyone gone, omer and i prized our way from panama city to head north to catch the boat to colombia. The panama isthmus is about 60 miles across. It seems pathetic that these 2 massive continents , north and south america , are held together by this small weak seeming piece of land. ..4 hours later, along the most roadworks i have ever seen along one stretch, we were in portabello. Famous over the years, as the place where all the gold and silver the spanish unpolitely took form the incas in peru , bolivia etc, after donkeys and slaves had dragged it all over from the pacific side, was met by fleets from spain to carry it all back to europe. Inevitably a place where other euro rascals thought they would get their share of the riches, by nicking it off the spanish. There are a few moss soaked fortresses still sitting on the hill tops and by the bays around here. Francis drake still layss out there in his lead coffin some way out to sea at portabello. Wrecks are apparently all over the place. Gold is still down there, buryed in time, tin cans and sand. The road turns along the caribbean east towards puerto lindo, the place of boats to colombia. This is an unspoiled road weaving, dipping rollercoasting along side the sea. Villages come and go, filled with african descendents of the first slaves. The road almost falls into the sea at sea level, with palm trees erraticaly, naturaly lining the way. Puerto lindo arrives. no big hotels, fancy doormen, all ammenaties here. Just raw bamboo and brick huts. The Hostel Wunderbar is our new home. Silvia and Guidos place. The place to sort out the right boat east. Our dorm is designed and built by the Kuna Indians of the San Blas islands. Bamboo walls with a dry palm leaves roof, that manages to keep all drops of rain out. This is raw tropics. Its very humid and it rains heavy alot, bringing black clouds and thunder from the loudest drum the universe has. Silvia tells us our captain for the 5 day sail is Leonardo. He has a 47 foot boat called the Zao, that can handle 2 bikes easy on deck. After a bit of research into ways of crossing this region by but, you get to remember captains names. there isnt a whole army of them, only a few handfuls. Leonardo hasnt a good reputation. why, i dont know. Oh well, we say, lets just get on with it, its only 5 days after all. The boat gets delayed another day, coz 2 more passengers havent arrived yet. I dont mind. Eating octopus in a secret sauce by a calm bay in the bright moonlight, earwigging conversations of smuggling, piracy, womanising and all the other naughtyness here, isnt a bad way to exists i recon. Soooooo, here we are, the boats ready. 2 more people have arrived to sail with us. that makes 6 of us and 2 bikes. Deborah and john. karen and patrick. Me and Omer. captain leonardo and his friend and helper Karina, from cartagena. We load the bikes one at a time onto small wooden rowing boats at the bay side to get the bikes to the sail boat , fifty metres off shore. Im nervous. visions of a sea soaked seaweed dripping bike have been haunting me for ages. No need to worry though. the villagers have it all in hand. its been done a hundreed times. We lift the bike into the rowing boat and get over to the sail boat. Leonardo charismaticly instructs the helpers. The bike is roped up around front and back wheels, then winched up onto the sail boat with ease. im relieved large ! Omers bike is next, no problems again. We set sail out of puerto lindo around 10ish a.m....... past a tiny island with posh housing spiralling around it. it turns out julio iglesias used to own this island. he then sold it to a drug lord who ended up getting nicked. its an idealic scene. we sail a mile i think from the coast line heading for 3 days in the san blas island, reputed to be the most paradise like on earth. Leonardo briefs us on behaviour and stuff onboard. its all common sense really. He doesnt seem to be the monster i have read about so far. A man with a natural dry humourous way. Obviously intelligent. We all chat and get on like we have known each other for ages. Im well happy. its an extention of the casa de carmen. more wonderful interesting comical people. Will it last though. we have 5 days on this boat. im sure the quirks in all of us will brake free before cartagena. The sea is calm. the wind is slight. Leonardo turns the motor on. we arrive in the islands. WOW ! this cant be real. small islands of various small sizes are scattered all over the sea. A black storm sits on one of the horizons, no change in darkness from the sky to the sea. The girls bravely dive in. I dive in. we all dive in. The water is like a warm bath. Clear blueness right to the bottom, where coral sits. A small fish tickles my leg, inspiring thoughts of hungrey hammer heads, that no one has mentioned or considered. I keep quite about that. We eat meat in a sauce. drink a few beers and watch the moon beam across the vastness. I keep the ship awake with my rhino snoring. oops ! Omer didnt get a wink coz of it. i had better kip on deck next night. the next 3 days were lazily spent, sailing to another island anchor, with an island which is just a resturant. the sign nailed to a palm tree. Storms came and went generaly around noon. its humid but the ocean soothes that. We are all laughing happy together stil .by this time i know leonardo is a top bloke and the bad comments must have been from uncompromising bad people. He gave up the life of a physicist at CERN in geneva, to raise his daughter on the seas and sand of this part of the world. Karina the colombian helper is a scream, we have verbal battles in broken spanish and english, she calls me a ratta i call her a ratta ! she can drink like no other ! must be the colombian way i think. Patrick buys the rum. how can ya come to these islands and not drink rum, he says ! i agree............ we eat fish......... the last 2 days are spent in open sea until cartegena. its ok. i dont get sick, suprisingly. it all passes very quickly and interestingly lazy. a storms catches us but we pass from one side , through the silent eye, to the other side and out without much grief or panic. Doplins breach in the distance then arrive by our side, showing off and amazing us. Cartagena arrives on the nightime horizon, lighting it all up. Im here at last. Colombia. what does that name bring to your mind ??? 3 days and we have almost sorted out getting the bike stamped in legally. My camera is ruined by the dingy nearly sinking on a row to an islands shore. Stories of the road from cali to popayan being blockaded by angrey indigenious are floating around cartagena. bombs going off. Im told that soldiers in leather boots are fine , but soldiers in wellys are not, get the hell out quick if i manage to find them. Colombia drew with brazil last night in a world cup qualifier in brazil. a great result and great game. patricks birfthday last night. a top night wandering around the old colonial city, to to beautiful. i will say all in the post before riding the gaunlet south.

Koaliman - san blas
as above pic
patrick and belly flops dolphin friends
Kaoliman - san blas

another looming storm in the open seas

desires to be stranded
voodoo live in the san blas
panama city san blas starfish
food time on board the Zao
san blas

Portabello fortress. Francis drakes final resting place.
loading the bikes Puerto lindo - panama
its all to lazy !

Leonardo and mirra the pup

a stowaway

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-1492847911073114711&hl=en&fs=true (click to see short footage of the bikes being loaded on and off the sail boat)

Settled at home while Simon sails the Caribbean

2008-10-10T03:01:00.004+01:00

Two different images then you have been looking at. I arrived back in Leadville 2 weeks ago to see fall has taken hold and winter is knocking at the door. It has been 3 weeks since Si went right and i went left in Tepic, as I have been reading Si's post I have been jonesen for a Latin American fix, but happy to be back.

I basically followed the same route back with my first stop in San Blas and a visit to La Contaduia Fort and a great view from the walls of the fort. I then continued north to Mazatlan, entering the city from the south along the beach road. Thanks to Ignacio, a kind gentalman i meet at the gas station finding my way was easy as i followed him to Auga Verde, were he was going to buy shrimp. When we arrived in Auga Verde Ignacio introduced me to a couple of his friends and i explained what Fragile X Pedition was about and we parted ways. great people in Mexico. I continued on to Mazatlan were I spent a couple of nights to kick back and enjoy the beach and great weather, no rain. The first night I was there as I was walking home I saw turtles on the beach which were laying eggs. Way cool.

From Mazaatlan I made my way north to Los Mochis and the tiny port town of Topolobampo were I spent the night of Mexican Independence day. I first went out to Topolobampo, only to be told there would be no rooms until 5. I went back to Los Mochis and looked around for a room. However, due to the Fiesta about to happen all were booked, so after 2 hours of looking and being told no vacancy, I returned to as fate would have it and found a great room at the Hotel Marina. Then that night i was treated to a great performance by the town's people celebrating there Independence from the Spaniards. It was a great 4 hour performance in the square of children adults and seniors. What a great experience.

From there to Hermosillo and back to the states at Nogalas. I spent a few more days at Debbie''s house in Phoenix, thanks Deb. I then was elated to get a call from John my good friend and fellow KLR rider that he would ride down and ride back with me. So I got going again and meet John in Toas, New Mexico and we camped a few nights and rode back to Colorado. I made it a little more then 5000 miles with nothing more then a rear flat just 300 miles from home. Not a problem, tire off old tube out new tube in except, I decide to leave the pump behind since Simon had one. Thanks to John i was able to put a a couple of his CO2 cartridges in and we were back on the rode in about a hour. Not bad for a couple of amateurs.

It was a great adventure and with any luck now a few more people are aware of Fragile X and with any luck they will open the ever shrinking wallets when they decide to give a little this year. Well enough for now, I will add some more pictures and along with the rest of you wait to hear from Simon. Thanks for reading and Si thanks for letting me tag along.

not quite in colombia yet, but almost !

2008-10-02T20:10:00.003+01:00

Just a few days away from sailing around coastal curves and islands to get to cartagena, colombia. Its nuts that theres only about 100 miles from the last section of road in panama to the border with colombia. Its possible to cross, only for the really fruitcake adventurous. The darien gap. i have mentioned it before. jungle, cartels, right wing and left wing guerillas, natives and mozzies carrying all the famous flesh, bone and brain rotting bacterea. Its a case of dragging the bike through gator rivers by your teeth. SOOOO my options are a boat or a plane. a plane cost too much ! so its the boat. I have met another rider. Omer, seen above sorting his KLR out. A new front tyre. Omer is from israel. he is riding down to ushuaia also. we are sort of scheduled to sail the sail boat, with captain Guido and his merrymen (well, i think he isnt alone)... from the paradise port of puerto lindo, atlantic panama. the trip takes 5 days, stopping off on the various san blas islands, to meet the native kuna tribes. The boat is a yacht as far as i know. A chunder bucket with me on board i am guessing....... I have a new back tyre, after searching at least 7 bike shops here in panama city. it isnt the needed dual sport knobby needed, but more like an R6 road gripper. i dont care as long as it gets me to at least cali, colombia, where i will sort out a knarley knobby to tackle the dirt of the andes. The last shop i found "Panama ATV STORE" were incredible in helping me find that elusive 17inch 5.10 tyre. what a nightmare we had. They rang around everywhere for 2 hours only to find that sticky rubber that fit. Luis the ATV manager actually drove to where ever and fetched the tyre. I have to say a million thanks to pete and luis and oriel for that help. A new battery was needed as the bike was coughing up an exhausting cry for help in starting. so a quick sighting of a huge battery shop helped there. Panama city is fast paced as they all are. a million cabs all leaning on their horns at the same time. brightly painted grafitti buses, driven by devils, screach in to every stop. ladies of the night smile and follow me everywhere. water ways on the road shoulder deep as a small man, to take away the downpours. humidity like never before- The lap tops are not, that, cheap here. the local larger , atlas, is 50 pence a bottle. pork in a thick tasty gravy with mixed rice. a boring hotel with miserable staff, sent me rushing to an atmospheric jamaican based hostel full of freindly israelies. states peeps and panamanians. free internet and smiles at the reception. A friendly ambitious chap named richard from elephant and castle. jimmy the cheeky cabbie trying to sell me the ladies in his life. All in all a great city with some sort of canal. think i crossed over that, via the bridge of the americas, overwelmed of the fact that man did that ! . Visited Aon panama aswell. THe 27th floor of a tall building named the generali tower. Situated in the heart of the busy financial district. I was welcomed and all listened to tails of the FXPedition. I am guessing at saying 50 staff ??.. top news from london ! the FXP has been mentioned in the business insurance europe magazine ! ... the awareness continues !! thank you amelia and alan. Also thank you so much Reuben ! at Aon dev sq. for keeping me posted and helping out !
financial area panama city
2 venezuelan adventurers - on their way home from alaska
the generali tower - floor 27 for aon - panama city
Meeting the aon panama employees.

entering phase 3

2008-09-28T14:20:00.004+01:00

Guatemala city was hard to leave. Not because i had grown emotionaly attached to the city., but because it was physically hard to leave. A massive city. The roads are in easy block formations on the inside, but as the city has grown outwards, different formations have evolved around it, making it confusing to the innocent. Also they had decided to throw sporadic street parties, which looked fun, with kids laughing and families smiling, but i wanted out quick again. I am developing a phobia to these magnifcant cities. The roads being closed all over, had actually speeded up the traffic. people wanted to get their destinations quicker and madder than usual, im sure. Being interupted out of their usual ways of going...... I was definatly feeling vulnerable. witnessing to tragaties the day before coming into the city had left me a bit soft. A kind of shock was hanging around. The city doesnt care. It seemed to take moons to get back into the greenhills, moisture and mist , so familiar in central america. A complete contrast to the great city. 150 miles north easterly on caraterra CA9 to stay in the border town chuquimula. it didnt take long to feel myself again and shake off the shock. riding through the scenery, new faces smiling, car horns sounding with thumbs up and wonder, always fills out a dented spirit with quick ease. rolling into chuquimula my steering went stiff and didnt flow from side to side. "oh me gawd, is this a blown head baring ?". as it happens a macdonalds turns up and after a big mac meal had sucked me in and thoughts of what now, i found the radiator cover had somehow bent out, sticking out forwards catching the high front mudguard. nothing a few cable ties couldnt sort out. with relief i rolled into chuquimula to more street festivities. people all over the roads and pavements. cars at a standstill. multicoloured , small doors to the pavement terraced buildings. simple wooden window shutters all open. i cant help being nosy. Im lost riding around the town for an hour. forgetting i need a room. loving the atmosphere of this colourful town. A kind man finds me, in typical gutemala style and leads me to a hotel. no vancancies. so i find one i had just seen. Hotel posada don adan. a room, a shower, air con, and a locked gate to stash the bike behind. all for 5 pounds equivilant. If you are ever heading across that border at el florido - copan ruinas, you must stay at the place. near the main plaza. ask someone. the town is perfect as the sun goes down behind the local hills.

sitting here now in panama after a few more border crossings, i have almost got used to them. now its getting comical. the same process, but all unique. guat to honduras was easy, no need for help. a stamp for me and the bike, to leave then the same to enter. immagracion then aduana , customs..... honduras was a sinuous perfection of no pot holes roads. through the mountains. all seems reserved though. gone have the car horns and thumbs up. just inquisitive eyes. alls calm. into nicaragua, where the horns and thumbs are back. people bending over backwards to help out even when ya dont need any help. ride past lake managua "de donde va" everyone shouts at me and i shout something back in my shattered mockney spanish. we all smile and laugh. another kind chap finds me lost and leads me out of managua onto the CA1. I get lost again. i find 3 people with a mini bike. i stay with them an hour. they are facinated and facinating. San marcos is their town. more beautiful peeling paintwork in pastal multi colours. Next stop a costa rica beach. most speak english. it easier explaining why im there and what im doing. a man places a link on his global web site to the fxp. Costa rica is very much the paradise you see in films. bizare sounds through the night. heavy rains for an hour. sunsets amazing.mind you there is always a limit to a mans listening to reggae. So then. im in panama. just met TJ and his wife precila. they live here and like what i am doing. their daughter works with autistic kids. we shall contact each other. i need a new back tyre. this ones finally left after 10500 miles. a boat or plane to colombia also. im not sure of the best option yet. next stop south america.
volcan, nicaragua

guatemala
guatemala
nicaragua
nicaraguan mates
the beach costa rica

border crossings - a joy to the insane !

2008-09-21T16:54:00.003+01:00

The above photo is of a small bay at bahias de huatulco, mexico. It is a bay surrounded in history and folklore. In 1587 the english explorer, adventurer, pirate, whatever you want to call him, sailed into this bay, to raid , plunder and generaly cause as much pain to the local spanish settlers as possible. There was a cross built on the beach, which is surrounded in its own mystical history as apparently an apostle of jesus arrived with timber on his shoulders , from the sea. this was 2000 years before mr cavendish audatiously arrived, sword in hand. The apostle, said be saint thomas apostle erected the huge cross on his own and deemed it very holy. Mr cavendish then arrives in 1587 with his small ship and merry english men, plunders the town and trys his hardest to destroy the catholic symbol on the beach, him being of newly found protestant faith. Axes and swords were used to destroy the cross, that didnt do the job. He tied a rope from the cross to his ship, that didnt work. after all that effort he tried to burn the timber to ashes. No joy there either. Apparently the Oaxaca catherdral, some miles north of the bay has a chair made from that very undestroyed timber, still sitting there, rairly noticed by worshipers and tourists alike. This is a beautiful part of the mexican pacific coastline. Another place i felt like putting my feet up at. A posh resort for the money merchants. I didnt stay for to long. Off along the coast line to salina cruz for the night . A large shipping city, industrial smoke, constant clatter of iron, dust dancing in the air, and some incredible views of the surrounding bays from the hill sides. I managed to sample some pasta there, which i savoured. As the border was nearing the traffic became less dense. Fewer trucks rumbling past inches away, tugging at the stickers on my panniers. the hills to the north became jagged green mountains. the wind became relentless and hard. a cross wind that had me leaning into it riding at 45 degrees. More military check points appeared. Each one asking me poilitly if i was carrying guns. Looking into my panniers and wondering why im out there. All soldiers interested in what fragile x syndrome is. All of them taking my flyers and taking time to read them. walking away with a sticker also. The rains came again in the afternoon. flooded towns and skinny soaked dogs sat by the road, uncaring. I pulled into a gas stop in the rain to meet 3 riders. the first since canada. all mexicans from the town of tapachula, close to the border. I rode with them, which was a bit of luck due to the lack of visibility in the misty rain. they had bright hazard lights which i just followed. After chats on the syndrome and why im there we grasped hands with that bonding rock stlye hand shake and they splashed away into my history. I had a few hours daylight left so i though i would get as close to the border as possible and kip the night. The borders have many people just hanging around . not chatting just waiting. they all waved to me. i waved back only to see them all come running over to me, pushing each other aside and barking aggresive spanish at each other. these people i found out to be "tramistadors" helpers to naive people wanting to cross the border. they can either cut crossing time down or i spose run off with all your papers. I managed to keep them at bay and find a room for the night. the tramistadors were also staying there. Next day, off the border early. 8pm. stamped my passport out for me then i looked for the stamping out for the bike office. nowhere to be seen. After stressful conversations with more helpers, it turns out i had to ride 30 miles back to the nearest city to find the aduana office to get my bike exit stamp. soooooo 2 hours later im back nearing the border, racing ahead of the legions pf tramistadors chasing me on smaller bikes, likely for me. i had the edge ! a 20mph edge !! passed the mexican exit again, over the no mans land bridge and into guatemala territory. The immagracion office is right there. the first place to go. a man comes upto me all offical like and asks for my passport, i hand it to him he scarpers ! i drop the bike on its right side again and chase him. hes just around the corner in a line. the linbe i should be in with my own passport. he ignores my pleas of "give me back my passport". im charged 1 USA dollar to enter guatamala at this window. Thats it its to late im a victim of the tramistador, after all the previous nights avoiding and that morings rracing away from them. i ask him how much this cost me. he ignores me. then another bloke appears, hes there to keep my attention off the helper, who by now has all my neccessary papers. the bike registration, international drivers licence etc. All in all it was a very quick service, using these bods. they ripped me off with the price of entry, by $40. but i was out o fthere and into guatemala in an hour. I wished i had done it all myself, finding th eright buildings and offices, but alas. i have learned a few lessons. Honduras border tomorrow, so lets see me get strong and stay calm. Guatemala. the continuation of the mexican green mountains. the roads have deteriarated and got much much faster. there are less dead animals by the road side. i think the skill it takes to dodge pottholes the size of cows has helped keep the animal population of guatemala alive. Its a short ride to guatemala city. a notorious city. which lives upto its reputation, believe me. Night fell , i found a hotel in a safe part of town ,they say. It has been safe. all the guatemalans i have met so far, on chocolate stops on route and here in the city have been very friendly and inquisitive. My front caliper fell off , coincidently outside a moto repair shop. the chap comes out no words and just fixes it for me. i gave him money for his wonderfulness. Opened the curtains this morning to see the city quiet. all still asleeep . the horizon holding 3 volcanos. all breathing a gentle stream of thin smoke heading in the same direction. they to are still asleep. I found the Aisfa building in guatemala city. easier on a sunday morning. It looks like the company there is not called Aon. They are called AISFA. they are listed in the aon directory as an aon office. No one was in, but i took some pics of the building.
mexcian pacific outside salina cruz
guatemala city on a sunday morning
the aisfa building - a sister company to aon - guatemala city
as above

photos realating to below post

2008-09-17T18:54:00.003+01:00

Ivonne, Francis, Isobel, me and Alfredo at lunch in the village of Suchitlan
Tortillas, tacos, pig skin cooked in vinegar, beer with tobasco and great conversation, with independence celebrations as a back drop
Volcan de Colimas - well the tip anyway. imagine that clear horizon. no other peak near except a small sister peak nearby.
el pacifico

New friends. a better understanding of mexico and a radio interview

2008-09-17T17:42:00.003+01:00

Solo once more. Petes gone north and im heading south still. nothing could stop me now. We rode well together. Never hard compromising, always swapping the lead easily, spending the evenings in honest chats and loads of laughter. Battling our way through the language barrier (pete doing much better than i). So after hugs and well wishes we split directions out of the town of Tepic. I head for Guadalajara and another Aon office. The sky is white with cloud and im hoping pete takes the raining season back north with him. my hopes seem true to Guadalajara. Half a days ride under a dry sky. The rain is predictable. the mornings are generaly dry but overcast. the late afternoon tends to get wet into the evening. Guadalajara welcomes me with the fast paced manic overwhelming driving i have come to love. I decide, head for the heart and see what happens. 5 hours later im lost in an overcrowded stand still traffic jam, city wide. I have spent the last few hours locating avenida mariano otero, the road the office is off, but there is no col.rinconada del bosque road leading off it anywhere. i ask numerous people " donde este dirreccion" while showing the address on paper, some understand and send me east , some understand and send me west. I know im braking the road laws coz of hoots and shouts from pedestrians, car drivers and the police . The sun is falling, the haze is getting yellow and full of atmospheric glare and i have a long way top go after Guadalajara, so after more broken laws i fly off, out of the city in an unknown direction. That was to much, i was going nowhere. No Aon today. the street system was impossible. the traffic was beyond the amount that makes things hard and im now an outlaw. Luckily im heading in the right direction. Colima is the town i want to get to before night falls and the donkeys come out and sleep in the road standing up, generaly around blind corners. I make Colima at dusk. 50 miles out of town the warm rain strikes, cooling me down no end, both physically and mentally. I need cash , so the first bank i see is the scotiabank. one i havent used before. the cashpoint says , NO! i try again. NO ! im fuming again. i leave to find a couple next to my bike. i assume they are riders on long travels, stopped for the night in this peaceful town. As it turns out Alfredo and Isobel are local. Alfredo has intentions of scarpering off on his 250 honda. So he and Isobel, his daughter, invite me to their family restaurant up the street for a coffee and a chat. i ride off to find a successful cash machine and return. We sit there at the table for 6 hours. i drink some mexican beer. we chat about mexico and motorcycles, while the rest of the family joins us. Ivonne and Gaia lucia, the youngest of Alfredo and Ivonnes 2. Lucky again for me they all speak great inteligent english. I learn about how tequila gets from the plant to the throat. i try 2 local brews, both go down easy and make the brain cells smile. How the local indians march into the desert to find Poyote to find wisdom and manhood. What mexican politics has been like since independence and a revolution. It just so happens that weekend is aniversary time of both the revolution and independence. Alfredo invites me to stay at his apartment , no charge. i stay for 2 nights. On the next day im introduced to Isobels friend, Francis, weho just so happens to manage the family radio station in the neighbouring port of manzanillo. Wonderful for the Fragile X Pedition cause, because he offers me an interview live on air for the next day. We all drive to the local volvano, Volcan de Colima, in franciss cars. A friend to greet every morning for all the locals. This beast of a cone sits alone on a flat horizon, standing over 4000 metres tall. the last eruption was 5 years ago. i missed it riding into Colima coz of clouds. The clouds are still there. we drive to the feet of the cone. a strange atmosphere lerks there. green all around, dry rivers where lava and land have spilt down the hill side over the years. its quiet. there are villages near by, where they have a traffic light system regarding the volcano. green is good, go about your daily business, orange means keep an eye on th emountain, red means get out quick ! shes gonna blow ! I only managed to see the cone from the balcony at Alfredo place early in the morning. incredible sight.. After the drive we have lunch in an old indian village named Suchitlan, where the local language isnt spanish, but Nahuatl, unforgotten Aztec. We eat tortillas, with goat meat in a thin sauce, birria barcacoa. drink chocalate drinks mixed with water. a tradition in mexico because chocolate is older than milk here, so in the old days water was used. I learn more about mexican tradition and feel alot closer to the country than before. i was just skimming the edge. I know now the mexican people are strong, resiliant, refined in their pleasures and always willing to talk openly and welcome strangers into their homes. It was hard leaving A lfredo and his wonderful family, and i thank them with all my heart. i have an interview to do on live radio. Thanks very much to francis. This is my first major break through as far as i know regarding the spread of awareness for fragile x syndrome. I arrive in manzanillo 2 hours late, but it doesnt matter. Im greeted by the freindly receptionist and another gentleman, who i forget the name of, please forgive me. Roberto my translator arrives and we immediatly hit the airwaves, via the DJ. he asks me questions about myself, the trip , my sister, my niece Sian and the syndrome. Roberto brilliantly translates. I use the leaflets that Maggie sent me to make life easier for them all to understand. it works. airplay 10 minutes, reaching a wide mexican base of people ! im chuffed to bits and am told it all went very well...Thanks all at K-lieT Radio. 93.7 FM...

Time to get my skates on again. its a shame coz now i have had contact and been eduacated about mexico i would love to ride the whole country, but that would take 3 months. i have to get going . i need to be in panama waiting for the boat to cartagena by end of september. next time !!Out of Manzanillo is the coast road running parrell with the Pacific to more or less the Guatemala frontier. The rains are here again for the next few hours till i hit the rural parts of the coast. i pass places called La Ticla, Manzanillere andbarra de nexpa. All amazing unspoiled surf playas. A few spars buildings made from coconut tree leaves dried and places on timber beams for roofing. Afew Surfers relax and greet me with peace signs and smiles. All so relaxing i could stay for a year. the surf keeps rolling in gently crashing on the sand. Night is coming fast again and im inbewteen villages. a lesson i have learned is to stop at the first available motel before at dusk. Night riding is full of suprises. 25mph for hours to the next motel. donkeys as i mentioned earlier, cattle, large lizards and very fast lane hogging trucks appear out of the darkness to test ya reactions. Anyway, i have just left Acapulco. a city splattered over numerous cliff faces. face paced, packed out and loud. potholes on all roads. a safe motel for me last night that ya pay by the hour for. people, moving around cagy all night. The sun is out and i know there is more to write but i cant, gotta get me skates on again ! The gautemala border in 2 days ! a new country ! full of a suffering history of repression. Mayan ruins and jungles ! hopefully will post from there !

Pete´s thoughts from Mexico.

2008-09-13T03:05:00.004+01:00

That is the sunset from outside the Internet office tonight. We spent the day buying a new front tire for Simon and getting it mounted. We were able to fine teh tire aftergoing back to the Suzuki shop and being sent to SoloMoto, where they had a rather good selection of knobbies but not so much I the dual sport variety. We sid find a nlup that will make him a few more miles quite possibly therest of the way. The hard part was mounting it. Much like when I changed mine at home we needed to pinch atube befre we got it done right. After not being able to get any air init with the foot pump, we wondered down to the tire shopp, just 2 blocks away to find out it would not hold air. They we ind enough to have use retun after 4 to have it done properly. So just rememer that from 2 to 4 in most mexican towns thewre is not much you can have done and if you are not in the toolies have the professionals do it. We did meet a group af realy nice people and two of the fellow spoke or should I say tried to speak to use for a hour about our bikes and our ride. Very nice. I just wih I could remember there names.

Here is a distant view of what we have seen in the past few days. Here we are looking at it from afar, but let me tell you we have ridden through alot of it . The paper today talked about a state of disaster that has been declared due to the worst rain since 1979. ¿ho would have thought it would be raining in Mexico and Central America in hurricaine season? Has made it interesting though.

The other news that may be a suprise or,maybe not I am heading back north in teh morning and will be leaving Simon to travel alone again. It has been a great almost two weeks but I have realize this is much bigger than I have expected and am going to go back home. I have realized this last week that I have not prepared as I should have and am going to head back to the states. I feel as if I am leaving Simon short, but he is much stronger than any of you may have ever thought. He is determined to finish this ride and I don´t want to slow him down. So tomorrow we will pack up possible go seee teh coast at San Blas tgeather and part ways. Si sout and me to the north. I will continue to spread teh word and offer my support, just not in peron. So Simon and the rest of you. YOU HVE NOT HEARD THE LAST FROM ME. Onward Frigile X-Pedition. I am sorry for the spelling, those of you who know will unedstand. The spell check just would not work. Pete

MEXICO - culture shocks & the warm solace of rain

2008-09-12T18:03:00.005+01:00

I was contemplating whether to buy fluffy bunny , or just plain leathery slippers last week in Phoenix, Arizona. With Debbies wonderful, kind hospitality , the bako boily heat & just plain getting way to relaxed in her lovely home i was ready to stick it out there for 10 years, without a care. Lucky for Debbie, pete and i managed to get our wheels rolling again , with the excitement that the mexican border was just 200 miles away. A 3 hourish ride through the desert, 100f heat again and through, terracotta Tuscon. Arizona suprised me more than most places so far. I was expecting pure desert all the way. Arrid heat haze vistas. Spiders the size of babies and the sound of moracas in the night time grass. It was all that and more. Sodona, i think the town was. A red forest in a hidden valley, not far off the main highway, but hidden enough to seem like another planet. Lush foothills, tall trees, only highered by vertical red cascades, such as monument valley. the buildings all terreacotta, matt finished grand designes, only for those bohemian hearts, that flock there in search of apparent mystical qualities. We just rode through. me in amazment, pete used to it, but still head moving from side to side as he rode. A man with a stick , poking a curled up rattle snake as we ride passed. i only hope the beast had died curled up and wasnt faking it.... ................ We hit the mexico border at Nogales. A crossing i and pete had been recommended. Thanks you lot from pilipsburg ! you was right. We first went straight across, through a green light , where the states meet mexico. A guard stops me, i say im heading for argentina. he looked the bike up and down then into my bloodshot sweat ridden eyes and just smiled. PAHHHHH ! I THOUGHT ! WHAT DO YOU KNOW !... that wasnt it. 21 kilos away is the immigracion and banjercito. You are aloud into mexico a certain distance without sorting papers out. we want to go further so we find the immigracion building get us as people into the country , via a stroppy officer, in his 50s who hated me as soon as i said "hola". i tried at least to say hello in espanol and not english. he wouldnt talk to me, only pete. he handed pete the papers to give to me to sign instead of just handing them to me. I was shamed at the time. He couldnt smile if he tried . his wringles set in stone, unable to crack even the slightest. He is the only one so far after 6 days in mexico that was rude. Anyway enough of that. after we are in, the bikes have to get legally tempory importation papers. The banjercito office right next to the immigracion office. A delightful young lady sorts me out in english. making me shamed again, but relieved. Pete just deals with it brilliantly in spanish. An hour, thats all it took. Nerves calmed we off into MEXICOOOOOO ! at last ! this is where i always knew the adventure would deepen. 200miles south down the autopista, a toll road. a straight line. No desert on each side. well it is a desert but its mostly green. hardy shrubs and little trees. growling at the bako sun. surviving always. A town comes and goes , with its rammed out packed streets of multi couloured paint pealing tiendas, taco stalls, shoeless kids smiling and waving. whistling adults, all smiling and waving or just staring with asking eye, asking what we are doing type eyes not begging asking eyes. Road kill is rife. A rigor mortised rottweiller face up by the curb. another dog then another. The dogs lie in wait in the long grass along the autopista ready to jump out in suicide. The smells move from what i think is lavender to the smell of dead animals. perfumes unrecognised by me fill the gaps. Always something to smell. There are mountains to the east. covered in forest. no snow caps yet. We reach hermisillo late afternoon. The traffic is fast and carefree. we get into the flow. you must. surfing a large speeding tube with a thousand other surfers. carefull , gracefull and fast, all over every lane , back and forth. we see the hostel we read in the sjoerd bakker guide. a photocpoy guide from a top man on the horizons unlimited site. The pima inn. $25 for the 2 of us. 6 poundsish each. reminds me of a chenobul documentary i saw once... next day we turn off the red roads and onto the sketchy thin red roads on the map. the map hasnt a clue. all wrong, leading us gawd knows where. small towns with 15 houses and 2 tiendas. very friendly people who help me with my awful spanish. a few attempts at miming and bad words and i get the chocolate bar i need. adios and we are off again following that near usless map. we need gas. a town has turned up on a hill side. small square buildings all pealing white, irraticaly splattered over the hills. the hills all green. the road has become a potholed maze. all fun to ride as they curl relentlessly around the hills and trees. its hot but there is a calming cooling breeze when riding, not like arizona where even the riding face breeze is very very hot. The gas comes from a ladies shed in her front yard . an excited 10 year old helps here get the light purple gas from a drum, into a jug, then the jug pours into an old litre bottle of lemonade. we pour the ex-lemonade into my tank . 4 times me then 4 times pete. we off again after smiles , laughter and missing them alreadys. the map lies again. the road we want isnt even here where it says it should be. the surface is good tarmac now, then bad again, then the road has disapeared over the hill side. must have been a big storm that night ! lucky we are riding slow enough not to start the new sport of base jumping bikers with no parachutes. After back and forth we find the road we want. nowhere near where the map says it is. we end up in the rural village of rosario for the night. The real mexico i see. im scared. my confidence has gone. the rains hammering it down , the sky is that heart braking black. we eat tacos de carne after the friendly server only chats to pete. im lost. i feel like my bag of a thousand marbles has split and im chasing all of them everywhere at the same time, whilst the town is laughing me ! that night whilst the rain bombs the corrigated irons roofs & the wind shakes the windows i try and understand what i am doing here, out of my depth. north america was easy. this is latino america now. a totaly different place. no one understands my terrible accented spanish. i could die here by the road and just get walked over, then nibbled to nothing by stray cats and dogs. What nonsense !!!!!! in the morning after eventually falling asleep, i have find my marbles and we are off. im grinning from there to there. im loving the rich stench. the thick mist. the green elephant type grass and the nutcase truck driver trying to pass me on the curves. oops is that a snake i just squashed, hope not. culture shock ! NUTS TO THAT ! i can handle this ! we are back on the autopista, but have realised there is generaly a road running parrallel to th etoll road. a more scenic ruta, which is faster than the real rural roads where miles are hard to do and we need to pick up the pace a bit, still having the curvascious riding smiles. We bang out the miles today. a huge storm hits the pacific coast and we are riding with it. the rain means sorrow on a bike for hours, but this time the rain is warm. its hard and warm. after 2 hours and 100 miles we stop , laughing with the locals at our warm wetness. im so far away from the shock of the night before. the main road life is as interesting now as the rural life of the mexicans. the way they rely on the road. each town is beautiful. never the same even though it has all the same as the last one. more friendly people everywhere. the rain has flooded everywhere. we stop for the night in culiacan. the town dips are 3 foot deep in water. next day off to mazatlan. more floods. a famous port, used by the spainsh in the golden days, raided by the english and the french. rusted batteries still surving. A now resort. mexican holiday makers and a great rock band in an open bar. the guitarist cracks me up with his massive grimace and eccentic brilliant playing. next day mazatlan to tepic in the terrential again. in and out of it. seems like its linked to the sierra madres to the east. A new tyre today. a front tyre. the last one an avon distanzia has done 7000 miles. mainly pavement. im happy with that. the rear is still going strong. i have done over 7000 miles now and i recon the rear will live till panama. guadalajara today and the first latin aon office. full of colonial beauty i hear. I will make the border with guatemala this coming monday when the mexican insurance runs out. now the shock has gone. im just pure excited. well maybe some fear still lingering, but not getting the better of me... Mexico is wonderful. cheaper all round than the states. full of friendly people, great munch and forever interesting and beautiful at every head move. even the so called notorious police have been great, trying to wheely past me grinning.
oops the roads gone . lucky no peg scratching coming into that bend
rural sonora - northern mexico
front yard gasolina - helpful and fun locals

photos relating to the below post

2008-09-05T01:06:00.004+01:00

says it all
along the old route. Its all but disapeared now they say. with many tears from the harley boys
Aon Phoenix
The view from Aons floor in the Viad tower. The southern mountains as a backdrop. Phoenix has the best road system i have ever ridden in. Its hard to get lost, aye pete ?
The Viad tower

Moument valley. strange and wonderful. where the mind wonders & wanders
modern gypsies - arizona
the grand canyon from the south rim

dirt devil pete. valley of the gods
valley of the gods

pete and the sky at mexican hat
riding into the monument valley

ride with us through the last leg of monument valley.

2008-09-05T00:15:00.003+01:00

Out of Colorado, Pete's land. Through, up and over the southernish neck of the rocky mountains. The mountains that have kept me company all the way from the Yukon Territory, Canada.... Colorado is up there with Alaska, for shire beauty and hugeness. Up there in sky, where just stepping down a few steps from a house is a chore for the lungs. We rode south leaving the mountains and altitude. entering the plains and the vertical red rock mountains that glow at sunset. One night in Norwood, (a tad lovelyer than norwood se25). stayed with john and berry at the back narrows inn. an inn built in the wild days of 1880. The wood structure still the same as it was then. A huge beautifully engraved, ornate stove greets you on entry, built in those golden days. We had nowhere to stay before then. all was closed or no vacancy. A small town , one street big. John says to me, "speak english and we'll see what we can" , i knew we'd be mates after that. Their guest hadn't shown up for a banquet, so lucky pete and i scoffed the lot. steaks, trout seasoned perfectly, shrimp kebabs, melon and strong subtle tasting beer. A night of laughs and stories then south once more the next day. Colorado turned into Utah. the mountains became bigger red and bare of pine and spruce. Utah became desert , which meant Arizona couldn't be far off. Through the Valley of the gods, an aptly named desert dirt road through huge monoliths, acting like bringers of doom or gods caring for the world around them or just strangely shaped mountains, like in the shape of hands and upside down boots, that water and wind have designed over millions of years. The best dirt road so far. skinny and hilly. loose gravel, sliding the bikes from one road shoulder to the next. steep ups and downs close together, that any experienced motocross rider would be air born out of. corners that slide the rear then the front end, scaring the rider into doing what he shouldn't. Pete realised there is a problem with the front end on his bike, named number 5 , by the way.. mines named number 8. He was thinking it might be the back load of luggage that's making the front end light and insecure. A problem he overcame and road the road flying up dirt and dust in his wake. off and out of the valley of the gods into monument valley , via the weirder that all the rest Mexican hat, into monument valley. no descriptions needed for this place. just think back on those 50s and 60s even earlier westerns we all grew up with. A night in the Indian reservation town of kayente, no beer aloud, prices of accommodation and food all raised and a few nice meetings with inquicitive people. The ride the next day was the ride taking us into phoenix, arizona, where Debbie, petes sister, kindly invited us both to stay at her house. It was a bigger than usual ride, 400 miles needed instead of the 300 regular days. I have done a couple of big for miles days this trip and it sucks the life out of me leaving a wild talking , endorphined person. superb, but not all the time. We made it. 3 hours in total darkness. me with no back light, where pete came to the rescue, riding behind me with his back light, so as speeding rascals in trucks and cars didnt squash me without noticing. he was there like a rock, reliable and consistent. top rider ! it was a spell binding riding in the dark following the centre lines in the dark, where my speedo decided to stop also. a fleshy computer game. 12 hours in the seat, flat bums and big smiles sweating like never before in the 9pm 90f heat of phoenix. Debbies house is beautiful. close to all that we need , like the bike shops, newspaper offices and the next AON office to visit. We visited Aon Phoenix. An office 30 floors i recon high. Aon have 20 people working there. we were welcomed by Karen Mildenhall after meeting the friendly , helpfull receptionist, ( i wish i remembered her name). Karen spoke with us, showed us the magnificent views from their office windows and wished us good fortune in our ride. A nother great stop in the Aon chain. All are interested after we invade their day with strange requests. Visited the Arizona republic newspaper, where they couldnt see us coz of deadlines. another email there then. Pete has sorted out his front end problems. he has helped me with my brake problems in the 106f heat. and we are almost ready to hit the Mexican border. Thats a place that we both have premature worries about. The reputation, language barrier, all that comes with mexico. A place we are looking forward to, the real challenge starts here i think. Mind you its not as dark thoughts provoking than bombs going off the other day in Cali, Colombia. HEHEHEHE ! Lets hope if there are any new born revolutions, we are on a cozy balcony looking down with cameras in hand rather than at a road side cafe beers in hand. Its all gotten better, if that was possible, now pete is along side. he has a perfect knack of making situations easier. and has the best ideas !

A couple of pictures

2008-09-04T23:53:00.005+01:00

" Can you belive what we have gotten into." Simon ponder where we go from here.

Grand Canyon

Valley of the God's

Thanks for the BBQ and backyard camping boys.

Have you lubed it?

2008-08-31T15:39:00.002+01:00

Simon arrived on thursday and it has been a flurry of activity finishing everything to finally get out the door. One of the harder activities of the last few days was mounting the new tires on my bike. I was so excited to finish with the rear wheel and put it all back together and go for a ride around town to rerun some tools that we had borrowed. When i started down the road the bike shook like it was going to fall apart. We went back home to sort it out thinking maybe I made the rear wheel out of true when i was trying to break the bead to remove the old tire. Thankfully it was much simpler the bead of the new tire was not seated properly. After 2 hours of inflation and deflation a little help form gerry and Simon we were completely frustrated and still not done. So I went up to the tire shop in town and he said " Have you lubed it up good?". I went home put some dish soap around the bead and amazingly it was done.

It is the simple things I often forget. I am sure there will be plenty more of those from here on out, so let the adventure begin. A little packing and off we go.

thin air and Aons mile high office

2008-08-31T14:41:00.005+01:00

Aon Denver employees. A top bunch of friendly people. A pleasure to meet.
Pete and simon outside Aon Denver
Denver is Colorado`s state capital city. Aon has an office there. 4100 e.mississippi ave. Its an address i have been seeing and wondering about for years. Working in the postroom at Dev sq, i have sent many a courier via transworld couriers over to that office. The place i imagined, to be a large office, due to the fact that i have mentioned about sending a lot of items over there. I wasn`t suprised to see a tall dark , glassy building and a large sign along side, showing Aon inside. The office isn`t situated in the downtown Denver area, where the main clump of denvers financial towers are. The Aon building is sat in the lovely named cherry creek area. The sun was shining as myself and Pete found the office. Pete knew where Misssissippi avenue was , but hadn`t heard of a company called Aon before, until i mentioned i work for them. Aon has 4 floors in the building and around 150 employees. We were greeted warmly and curiously as we asked to meet a marketing person. All where unavailable, So i was very happily suprised to finally be greeted by the executive vice president, Terri Brown. She took us under her wing and introduced us to a number of Aon staff, who all asked questions about our trip and Fragile X Syndrome. We took some photos and chatted, laughed for some time, till eventually saying goodbye and good luck. A great bunch of people, very friendly and unskeptical. mmmmmm, not like the london lot aye !!!!! (only kidding)...... lets hope that on this quest , the Aon peeps we find are as warm and helpful........... next stop Aon pheonix.

I got to Leadville a couple of days ago now. Pete has been great. The perfect host, with freshly cooked cookies made by his mate , Amy, a tasty delight indeed, large as ya like choco lumps ! I expected to see pete, twitching the curtains anxiously itching to get on the road, after a year of talk. He is ready and red hot to go ! he`s done mods to his bike. Changed the tyres, to those well reported dual sport tyres, Avon Distanzias. Reputed to take on any kind of unforgiving dirt track and carry on doing that for 10000 miles. Changed his oil and filters. Set the bike up for the haul. I am chuffed to bits to see and hear that he is on th eroad for longer than i thought. 2 months hes out there for. I`ll have to see if myself and the adventure can seduce him into rolling as far south as possible. Looks like he might be able to make it into Colombia and maybe Ecuador. I have been carrying a new chain and front sprocket, that i got from AKRIDERS in anchorage,. and it was time to change them. i didnt have a front sprocket, but pete had found one for me. This was gonna be a test for me. A part of me was hoping pete and his house mate jerry would kick me aside and say "leave it out, we`ll fit the stuff for ya", but most of me wanted to sort this out, coz i have to get my hands filthy with mechanical experience, coz as the trip goes on i will need to utillise at least some sort experience as the bike start to go into demensure. Got the old chain off easy, to find the clip that holds the master link together, not letting the chain come apart, was missing. I am definatly a lucky man. I have been carrying a stone from the Arctic coast. A black stone with a thin white line on. A stone the Inuits say brings long life and luck ! .. the clipless chain could`ve totaly destroyed the bikes motor and maybe my left calf muscle. Followed the manuals instructions, but after meeting Jay at Signe & jeffs gaff in philipsburg earlier in the trip i ended up using the feeling and knowing approach, that he showed me. It works. I always do it by the book if im new to it. Jay showed me how to feel ya way around it. In this case the chain. After all its all a case of this joins that, that makes this do that etc. It went well. the new chain and sprockets are on. the oil changed. A new filter and we are ready to rock as they say over here. The past 2 nights have been spent following pete around saying TaTa to his friends. A top lot. We had steaks in town with Randy. jd, marny and terri. A great night of laughs a stuffed bellies. Last night was spent with John, Joyce and there daughter Emily, jerry & alyssa. sat out in the pines at 10000feet up, 2 miles high, by turqiouse lake. A great night of bbq`d munch and stories to laugh to until the night came in, the milky way came out in total view from south horizon to north horizon, making realise how earth sits amongst it all. We could see the spiral of the Milky Way. So thats it phase 2 begins today.
Bizzare views from the top of the world Leadville, Colorado. A fierce cloud comes from behind the rockies

more mountains and lakes

2008-08-29T00:30:00.007+01:00

wyoming
wyoming
red cliff bridge - colorado
john and joanne - philipsburg montana
virginia city - montana
virginia city - montana
montana opens up. rockies
red wyoming
jasper national park
lake louise, banff. named after one of queen victorias daughters
lake - montana
signe on one of her wonderful machines
signe sorting us all out some breakfast. that crispy bacon was the best. the oven is a gorgeous renovated 1903 oven.
alberta mist
alberta
jasper
scooped out peaks - jasper
jasper

Phase 1 finished

2008-08-28T23:25:00.003+01:00

I made it. I`m in Leadville Colorado. Petes home town. 5300 miles. It feels like the trip is in 3 stages. Stage 1, Alaska to petes. Stage 2, petes to panama. Then stage 3, Colombia to Ushuaia. Its the first time i have managed to stick all my clothes into a washer. I feel great. Satisfied with the riding and experiences, as in meeting some interesting people, making heart felt new friendships and seeing the most incredible places and animals. Not quite so feeling great about the publicity aspect so far though. Its been dificult to get the media interested. The only way is to send emails, because i havent been able , with the time i have to ride around the towns looking for media outlets, so emails have been the way. It mainly comes in a letter to the editor form, which i hope will be published. Now that we have 2 minds on the trip , it will be better for ideas and time. I was in a rush , banging out 300-400 miles a day. We are sitting put in Leadville for a couple of days now. Get the bikes sorted out, like new tyres, chains, sprockets. A good clean etc. We are visiting petes local newspaper in person tomorrow, so that should get things rolling. A local lad and an englishbloke riding this ride should take their interest. We are also going into Denver, to visit the Aon office there. Denver 100 miles from leadville is currently holding the nations democratic convention, so the city is buzzing from all that right now. Its great to be here in one piece. The bike, considering its past (a rental) has been in perfect shape, no problems. I only had to tighten the chain and air the tyres along the way. Shes heating up faster at the moment, but after a good clean taking off all that muddy insulation, the coolness should be back. Those 5000 miles have taken me from the top of the world, down the spine of the jagged, dark, stark rocky mountains. Through the road hugging clouds of british columbia. 3 days of cloud and mist. wet and internal moaning. It wasnt till i pulled up in a gas station in dawson creek, the end of the alcan, that i finally snapped out of the wet misery, when a strange woman came upto me laughing hysterically and saying "your wet" that i cracked up laughing along with her, realising that all of this is part of it, not just the sunshine times. Was all good after that. Held up in grand praire, alberta for the night, before riding into the sunshine and jasper and banff national parks. Jaw dropping natural beauty. the parks are stunning. turquiose lakes, from the glacier juice, scouped out mountain ranges. zillions of spruce, aspen and pine trees. Animals safely roaming around , free from the hunters weapons. Ater riding through and camping in the parks i raosted away out of canada and into montana, usa. Thought a wolf crossed my path. a silvery grey dog type beast, smaller than i imagined, so as it turned out it was probably a coyote. (edit : it was a wolf. saw a coyote at grand canyon. definwhat i saw was much bigger and not fox like - like a coyote)) A cheeky rascal that thought hed escaped me but i stopped to watch him bobbing his head up and down in the long grass, willing me away. i tried howling to get him going, but he just sneared and slinked off into the trees. Montana, turned brown. A light brown, beige. Rolling hills of beige, sweet smelling purfumes i couldnt make out. Sometimes wiffs of burning entered my helmet. Forrest fires are rife up here. I stayed the night in Kalispell. I had been contacted by a lady , named sylvia, who had heard of the trip and wanted to meet, but alas my timing was rubbish again. Sylvia is heading out there soon. hope to meet her oneday on the road. Off through the beige once more, with the rockies never to far from view. raising in altutude to upto 6000 feet, into mid montana. A gorgeous old town, done out wild western 19th century days. Philipsburg. The buildings looked authentic and not plastically made to show the days of old. I couldnt resist this place. after meeting mike smith, a freindly chap , with london ancestry, another fine friendly geezer comes in and offers me a place to kip for the night. John from Kalispell. married to Joanne. It turns out to be a house owned by signe and jeff. 2 very much bmw motorcyle fanatics. their garage is full of old and wonderfull machines. Theres others staying there. all looking out for each other, having a laugh and loving bmws. My KLR looked right at home though amongst these demons of miles and history. John and joanne are on and in an old bmw sidecar outfit. Brian, jay and roger all on their own big big beamers, riding all over the mountains and far away. A friendly warm comunity, that was a real pleasure and suprise to be part of. After good byes i head off into wyoming and yellowstone national park. Wyoming seems like a brother to montana, but with sparser savings. A land of what looked like sunshine tundra and not arctic tundra, covering everything. A huge flatter landscape than what i had been used to. Indian reservations, with small box houses. towns of 3 buildings and 1 gas pump. I loved Wyoming. Hardly any people. long long straight roads with this not tundra. the rockies showing up sometimes to show me im on the right road. yellowstone was missed really, i hit it to late. the sun was falling. i had an hour to get through there along a 2 hour road. It got dark. it was pitch black. I spent the time , doing 30mph and no more. watching the roads shoulders for suicidal beasts. I caught up another unfortunate on a bike. a harley davidson, not suprisingly. we rode out the dark , silent partners. Got out in one piece. the lakes , somehow looked very silver in the darkness. a silver i have never seen before in the natural world. Mysterious mists sat in the trees bellies. All very hammer house of wonderful horror. Just needed the bone chilling howls of the local wolves to make it right right. A sound i have waited all my life to hear, but alas again. Was out of wyoming like the wind. mainly leaning into a strong crosswind, pushing hard again the opposite bar grip. Colorado, can be compared to Alaska, in my opinion. The roads curl and bank made of silky tarmac sucking on the bikes tyres, inducing confidence in the rider to make the most of throughing the bike left right left, flying out of the corners into the next unbarriered mountain curve. Whilst loving all this, you raise to 10000 feet through stunning green forests and the barren jagged rockies are back in constant companionship. Im here. at petes. typing this pale ale on the floor. petes sorting his tyres and brakes out in the sunshine. We are both going to use the blog. posting when the times right. I have so much more to say and so many more people to mention, but cant fit it all in. Hopefully i will when i can. Fingers crossed the groove comes for the publications. that should be tomorrow ! we leave for southerly sun on sunday.

Out of Alaska into Canada and the endless mist

2008-08-21T22:33:00.008+01:00

It is always hard leaving Alaska. This time wasnt different. The sun was kind to me while i was up there. Only a couple of days wet. Tok is the last town before the Canadian border. I met Teddy there, whilst waiting for a moose to get out of the road. She stood there for 5 minutes staring at me, until i got my camera out to shoot her, then she sloped off, not before i managed to get a pic of her. Teddy pulled up as i was waiting there. A gold prospecter, probably one of the last of his kind. Even had the dangly white beared hiding 2 black teeth. A manic laugh and a wacko excitement in everything. Had to leave him that night though, coz he wanted me to join him sleeping under the freezing stars, with vacum wrapped salmon half eaten laying next to us all night. He said "the bears wont bother us", but i scared out of that gamble. Had a top nights send off with my Alaskan mates, in Girdwood. A glorious meal in great company and a viewing of the town dogs chasing a black bear and her cubs up a tree. She just sat there, legs dangling from a branch, like a human kid for ages till the dogs got bored. It was a breeze crossing the border, no waiting time. At Beaver creek, the first Canadian town i met up with a swiss couple that i had met in Anchorage. Guido and Gaby. They have been on the road for 2 years riding north from Argentina on their BMW 1200`s, which they curse after endless problems. Rode with them for 3 days covering around 900 miles. We camped all the time, which is the best option for saving money. B & B`S are very expensive up here. My first Aon call came in Whitehorse along the yukon river. I got there on a sunday, but thought thats ok coz i will just go and say hello on the monday, but alas, it was a yukon provincial days holiday on the monday. A celebration of the first gold to be found in the area, back in 1896. Not to mind though, i took a few snaps of the Aon office. A small place with 3 reserved car bays for the employees. A real contrast in size to devonshire sq. At the moment i am in Grande Praire, Alberta. It hasnt stopped raining for 3 days now. My visor is almost ruined and its to cold to make more miles today. Almost 4000 miles to now. Will be more specific with all details soon. Waiting on responses from publications along the way also, fingers crossed !!

Aon office- Whitehorse - Yukon Canada

Gabby & Guido - 2 years on the road

MORE ALASKA PHOTOS

2008-08-15T01:18:00.011+01:00

DEADHORSE

ALASKAN FIREWEED

TUNDRA

NEW FRIEND, PIG DOG, IN FAIRBANKS

RAINBOWS OVER ANCHORAGE

MOUNT MCKINLEY - STATES HIGHEST

BROOKS RANGE

BROOKS RANGE TRANQUILITY

DALTON HIGHWAY DESOLATION 20MILES SOUTH OF DEADHORSE

ARCTIC OCEAN

Sawman of the North

2008-08-14T06:32:00.010+01:00

After all the flapping about having to get upto deadhorse by the friday, riding sort of ilegally i managed to change the booking at the caribou inn to saturday night. In doing so, i didnt have to strain the life out of the bike and test my riding skills to a death defying limit. Left Anchorage, thursday after riding around town getting the needed things for a trip like this, like a tyre repair kit, tyre irons, lots of oil, chain lube and snickers bars. The plan was to get north to Fairbanks that night, so as to give me an easier low mileage day to get used to the dirt of the notorious james dalton highway, the day after. Didn`t make it ! Left Anchorage and after 50 miles it slashed down. Slashed until i could not take anymore. I pushed and pushed, until i couldnt see or feel anything anymore. 80 miles short of fairbanks, passed Talkeetna and Denali park, a Lodge, slightly hidden from the road by being distant from the road, but in a green clearing inbetween thick dark forests of the tallest spruce. It didnt matter how much it cost, i couldnt physicaly ride anymore. 315 miles north of the AKrider office in Anchorage. No one was staying there. An old boy named Jim answered the door and encouraged me in out of the rain. $69, which isnt bad for Alaska. I sat there with jim , drying off and listening to his tales of old Alaska. His hunting days of fierce battles up in the arctic hunting polar bears. Wrestling a black bear that had fallen through the window of his cabin. Tracking down the Largest of wolves. All seemed a bit tall for me really, but then he showed me the death room. A room dedicated to his hunting days. The wolf really was the largest of beasts. His skin stretched all over one wall. I couldnt believe that a wolf could grow to that size. Its head like a Lion. Turns out the place is haunted by the spirit of the owner, who had a brain hemorage 15 years ago, in a back room. Jim told me not to worry though, coz the spirit only slams doors some nights, he doesnt pace up and down the wooden corridors or anything like that. That was it, the light was left on all night and i managed to get at least 2 hours kip in ! some adventurer i am ! . Left there around 9am with a mouth full of a second danish pastry, with apple and other stuff in. Rode through Fairbanks, still raining and cold, but i was better prepared and dressed this time. Filled up the bike with gas at a small town called Fox, 70ish miles short of the start of the dalton highway. No more gas till Coldfoot, 250 miles north. filled the jerry can up also, just incase. It turns out i was wrong in thinking that. Another fill up station at the Yukon river crossing, 60 miles north of the start of the dalton.

The Dalton highway. A road of all roads to any overland rider. So famous i`m sure the stories can`t be true. A road that sorts the men out from the boys & generaly chews`em up for its main course, without spitting them out to be found. It was really exciting for me to be there at last but I stood there, at the sign for at least half hour, thinking i had definatly made one the biggest mistakes of my life. The rain had stopped. After 2 close and very loud gun shots, away to my left somewhere, i was on the bike and not worrying about the biggest mistake of my life. I didnt even notice the bike snaking all over the road, due to the loose gravel and ruts. When i did notice, i was already some way to be relaxed with road taking the bike where i didnt want it to go. "squeeze the tank with ya knees and lightly hold the handle bars", Jeff had wisely told me. It works. The only way to relax my hands on the bars when tensed up is by squeezing the tank with my knees, so all the tension goes to the knees holding the tank. The bike then somehow ends up going in a better straight line , on the right side of the road than before. Soon i started to notice fewer vehicles around. The ones that did come by facing me, had waving , wide eyed drivers. That gave the hint i was heading for places, where people seldom go. No one waves at people coming the other way if they are constantly seeing people coming the way. Sort of like hikers up a mountain somewhere. I was starting to feel like i was getting into the real wilds of Alaska. The fear sneaked off and i was settling into the road, like old slippers. Pavement / tarmac came and went in half mile & mile fits. Some places, that had been sprayed with chemicals for road conservation left the road wet and thick with mud. A shock to the complacent rider. I cant reach more than 30mph on this stuff. mostly sliding through at 10mph. Nearly dropping the bike twice. Stopped at the Yukon, a huge wide river, shouldered by eager fishermen. Leaving the Yukon stop a BMW rider came flying past, didnt even notice me. He was very fast for that kind of gravel. An hour on i found him and 5 other riders parked up chatting. A nice bunch. All americans except a Kiwi girl, that lives in London. Annette is riding the same route as me , to raise awareness for a Latin American childrens charity. Past gobblers Knob (a hill) through hills that become mountains. Everything covered in green and brown. Pine trees so dense. A lake , where archeologists working on the pipeline, have found native stuff dating back 2000 years. The pipeline follows you around the hills, running parrallel, then tangenting off underground or off up a rise and appearing somewhere unexpected. Playing a chasing game, keeping me company.

The pipeline. A completly man made intrusion into this wild place. A simple design that feeds the lower places with its black gold. I love it. I believe it works with the wilderness. Someways complementing it. Mans way of saying "i can take what i want from you". It cheekily keeps ya company. The arctic circle marker came and went. The furthest north i have ever been. The sun got larger as i neared Coldfoot. The nights place to sleep. It didnt go down till 11pm.

"i know that accent" i heard as i was sorting a room out in coldfoot. Helen and gary from devizes in wiltshire. A great couple of characters. A pleasure to meet. New friends. They have been away for 3 months exploring the states and canada by hired car. They are masters in the hotel blag of getting the price down. We had a great laugh that night, with a few bottles of beer and a meeting with a nut case floridian, Daniel, who once walked for 9 months across the mountain tops of eastern USA. 340 miles that day. I felt good. Happy that the road hadn`t been to hungry and that the sun was on my side. Stories were coming in that the next section , to the top was getting ,more challenging by the hour. Snow had been falling up in the Brooks range. Fog was everywhere and temperatures were dropping fast. When chatting to people the first question was "which direction you come from ?" . I was feeling in awe of the south bounders that came from the top. Mostly intreptid car drivers. Some with family and some solitary. Mostly hunters. All with a wry smile and eyes saying "you dont know what ya in for ". SO next morning im up and away after all north bounders. Helen and gary have already left in the car. No bikers anywhere and the coach full of older peeps left half hour ago. 248 miles to Deadhorse. The sun was out again, bit of luck. Means the road is dry and faster and fun. Caught the coach up, passed it with hoots of hello`s. Up into th eAtigun pass and the fabled brooks range. A place i have wanted to be at for a few years now. Straight up into the clouds. Couldnt see a thing for 3 hours until riding back down the other side. Its was freezing. I was that cold i had to stop and try and warm up. Hands had frozen into the grip position, which i couldnt straighten for 5 minutes. I managed to get off the wrong side of the bike and kick the beast down flat. Took me another half hour top get the strength to strain it upright again. The clouds rose as i rode down altitude. The hills became smaller, covered in small damp shrubs and hunters in camo gear, with bows and arrows, Laying on the road shoulders wainting for their caribou to show. The hills flattened complety into the Arctic Tundra. This place seemed to me where the rest of the world had not bothered to go. All stops at the Brooks range. Silence reigns. 100 miles left and im freezing again. a place called Happy Valley turns up. One building and a few sort of buildings scatterd around by a beautiful blue river. I turned in hoping to buy coffee and warmth. A man steps out of nowhere. Ed, a friendly understanding man, who in winter lives on an Arctic island named Katovik and in summer heads south to 80 miles south of deadhorse. Hardly Hawaii ! He took me into his house, fed me coffee and great complements on the ride for FXS. It was hard to leave his warmth. 80 miles left, a warm torso, toes and neck, i ripped up the rest of the way as the sky seemed lower and greyer than ever. Landed in deadhorse to find the riders from the previous day, one of them riding a huge honda goldwing (how he made it up there on that i will never understand) and he got a ticket for speeding. The fastest i could make that day was 60mph. He must get some sort of reward for that ride ! $179 for a night up there in the Arctic caribu Inn. Nice enough room. Bears apparently everywhere, so we are told to watch out when leaving the building. Deadhorse i found out is part of the whole area of prudhoe bay. It lays a 10 minute slow drive by bus from the Arctic ocean. I took the bus the next morning along with an Argentine geezer who had just driven up from Buenos Aires after 7 months on his own. His car was just an ordinary rear wheel driven saloon car. A few dents here and there and a solar panel on the boot. We wern`t aloud to have a full dip in th esea, due to a polar bear being in the area. I didnt see it , but we were told it doesnt matter if we can see it or not, its there. It could be 30 miles away and sense we are in the ocean, so the next lot of bus riders could have him on their problem lists. Oh well, got my hand wet anyway and looked south wondering what i will be wondering when im at the southern tip looking north in all those months time. Met helen and gary again that night, which was fun again. Said our goodbye`s. I hope i catch them again soon somewhere coincidental.

I know we speak the same language, us brits as our mates stateside, but i am having trouble getting my name across. Simon, 8 times out of 10 becomes Sawman to people i chat to. So now i just say my name is sawman. Mind you a few people have said "whats that ? Solomon, you say ?". Think i prefer Sawman. My hold on the english language is in need of help ! ...................Everyone i meet i tell what i am doing and why. ALL are interested. All want to know what Fragile X syndrome is. Some have helped in placing this blog on their web sites. Some spreading via word of mouth. All have a sticker ! Some are coming up with ideas to help me in spreading awareness. There is the Anchorage news i will visit tomorrow. Fingers crossed they see a story worth printing..... Its 12.04 now. im back down in the AKrider office Anchorage again typing this. Its time for bed. Im sleeping with 50 motorycles tonight under the same roof........in sleepy briefness : The ride back from prudhoe was incredible. Had the brooks range all to myself , came 20 feet away from my first grizzly, a 3 year old rascal. mum had kicked her out last year. she seemed just as nervous as me. Muskox by the road. Caribou herds. saw mount mckinley out of the clouds, all 20000 feet of it. Met some more characters, who i will never forget, excentricity city up here ! . Seeing what was behind me on the way up there, when riding south was like riding through another place entirely. 1800 miles- 7 days. Got back, Brendan heroicaly cleaned the bike for me, getting the fan working again. Great chats with Nicole, about her adventures and the route i am taking to get to leadville , colorado and pete. New front tyre tomorrow a new chain and sprockets, then im off towards the canadian border. More mountains and beauty ! Will be hard to say ta ta to Alaska. The friendliest people, who will give you whats theirs -the most incredible scenery, shocking. Theres is too much to say about this incredible last frontier !

On the line and waiting for insurance

2008-08-06T21:07:00.003+01:00

I`m sitting in the Alaska rider tours office. The boys are conscientiously grinding away at a their bike carrying trailer, taking away old bent metal and soldering new shiny metal. The sun is belting, at least 70F. Its been Alaska`s worse summer for years, but since i got here 2 days ago it has only rained once, last night, when it finally got dark. The bike is ready, after Kagan, Alaska rider tours mechanic came in on his day off to fit my panniers, sort the valves out and loads more to get the bike ready for me to slip off north today. BUT i cant !! I am waiting , pacing the office, feeling like a useless broken spanner, getting in the way ,just waiting for my USA and Canada insurance to be emailed to me after endless attemps at faxing through the complicated forms that are needed. Poor old Gail in the motorcycle express insurance office in new york must dread me now ! Saying that its about time i sent her another email, with anxious quivers in the words. Mind you i am technicaly covered, i just have nothing to prove it. I have to be in Deadhorse friday night, as i have a room booked in the caribou inn, the only accomodation up there. You aren`t supposed to camp coz the polar bears are partial to human munch. Friday was lucky for me, they have one room only that night. You cant ride completly into prudhoe bay. deadhorse is the nearest town about 10 miles outside of prudhoe. The only way to get my head wet in the northern seas is to take a guided tour from deadhorse into the prudhoe bay oil gaff, its all booked i just have to get there ! come on gail you beauty !... Its generally a 3 day ride to prudhoe, and thats quite pushing it, so i am gonna have to be swift and safe to do it 2 days. Tarmac upto fairbanks 380-ish miles then 420 miles upto deadhorse, baring in mid %90 of that is gravel (the dalton highway) of all kinds of depth, fun and "arghhhhhhhhhhh"..... The weather report for the next 5 days is on my side. A slight chance of rain, which is easing my worries of riding the dalton highway. It can turn into a quagmire for miles on end after the northern monsoons, averaging 10mph for 400 miles wont help me get on the tour bus on saturday.....

The flight was a long long one. 2 unhappy toddlers screamed that high pitched schrillllllll ! for at least 8 of the 11 hours in the sky. It all got very surreal. Their poor mother was at her wits end by vancouver. I stayed the night in that beautiful city, staring in disbelief most of the time, at the dark jagged mountains and the glistening seas at sunset, eating lobster skewers with my host Kelly and his friends. The gay pride evening prossesions made things all the more entertaining. Big, big geezers, built like arnie, wearing rainbow hot pants, rocking away to old jazz on the road side... Got upto Alaska on the 4th, breezing through immigration and getting interest from the officials regarding what fragile x syndrome is. 40th birthday session was as good as could have been, spent at a wedding reception in an old gold mine surrounded by a forrest of tall spruce trees. The band was fantastic, soft rock, to 70s funk without missing a beat. Camped outside the AKRIDER office last night, along with 2 blokes from switzerland, who have spent the last 2 years riding around latin america. Their stories are incredible. Their relaxed beings not like how i imagine they used to be before the road. I`m calming down. The hearts stopped racing along with insurance anxiety. Im heading out now ! its decided ! go up street, buy a pump and tyre irons. Buy small padlocks for the panniers. Pack the tent up. Say thanks to Phil (the bus was a top nights sleep), nicole for brilliantly sorting out panniers swiftly and with no grief, jeff, john, ben, brendan, all at Akrider, Kagan if he was here and the Harley peeps for having a free camp site just in the right place. So i do have 3 days to reach the far reaches of this unbelievable land.

On my way !

2008-08-03T06:06:00.004+01:00

This is it, after 14-ish months of obsession, unsettled sleep, excitment, doubt and confidence wrestling, research, then more research, Just work, wonder & aiming high, its finally here, the morning of departure. No longer is life about talk, work and organising. Its about finally putting it into action. No more words, just doing it. I`m not an Oasis fan, but i am smiling right now listening to "we`re gonna make it happerrrrnnnnahhh " aptly on the airwaves. London looks angry this morning. A sheet of grey is hanging over it. The radio has just mentioned another man dies from stab wounds last night. Even those birds aint singing this morning. The trees aint swaying. Its all still and seems to be growling. 2 hours time i am out of here !

There hasn`t been much to write on the blog over the past few months. Its been hard to know what to say, without digressing into irrelevance, but that all stops here. The road should do the writing from now. I do want say more thanks though. All at work have been incredible. The boys in the postroom and the boys from weekend security. Thanks for the high tolorance and the laughs, which kept me from slipping away somewhere not nice, where i could`ve easily slipped. The Panama hats will come flying in very soon and i expect them worn !Everyone in the various medias who actually took me seriously and spread the essential awareness in perfect ways. Nite watches, bike animal, dirt bike rider, riders digest, & all those word of mouths. Cheers loads , Ash at A & Z Sports, one of the last independent sports shops out there, for the top t-shirts. Thank you AON for taking the venture on board and getting the news out there ! Thank you everyone who has donated to the cause and for your kind words of encouragement, that really sink in and help me more than you could know. Thanks Mike for the info and the wonderful encouraging stories of your adventure. Salvador and the language lessons, can`t wait to gain in confidence speaking spanish at last, thank you !. Nice one Maggie ! have a wonderful wedding mate ! Friends and family have been right behind me on this idea, thank you ! i won`t let you down !

The bag has been packed a week and i can just about lift it above knee level. There is no way i have forgotten anything. Gatwick, then Vancouver for a night, before reaching Anchorage, the top left hand corner of the map. A 40th birthday on the 5th, then the road north to Prudhoe Bay, then turn around south to the bottom of the planet. Pete, i am nearly there mate ! see ya ! next post Alaska !

Inside the mind of Pete - The other Fragile X Peditioner

2008-06-22T07:37:00.004+01:00

Fragile X-Pedition Ramblings
Wednesday 03/05/08 09:12

Today I spoke with Simon, the first time have spoken to him since being in South America, and the second time I have heard his voice. I have been in a blue funk for the past few days and in and out of funk for the past few months. However, yesterday after work in the morning I was ecstatically surprised to hear the accented limy on my voice mail. Then this morning we spoke and I have a new feeling.
I will start to put some of my ideas to work. As Ted has told me “You have great ideas your problem is that you just think and talk and never act”. I am taking this to heart. I have committed to 4 weeks of riding once Simon arrives in Colorado. I am going to take the logo and see what I can do with T-shirts. I think that the more I do the more involved I will stay and the more I will be able to function. So with that said I will start with the tax refund, $4000 to put in the bank soon. I have a KLR on Craiglist that I will check out. I will also start with Lee to get a deal on some gear from Darin. Talk to Connie about T-Shirts on Saturday. See you next time.

Wednesday 05/21/08 2141

Today oil hit $155 a barrel and the reality of $5.00 a gallon of gas is here. What does that have to do with Fragile Xpedition. While I was watching the news I became worried again. I was stressing on how I may be in over my head and losing the sight of the fact that I don’t really care. I have always said that it is only me and none has to pick up after me. I was wondering to myself have I really done it and maxed out. I may have.
However, while I was riding the Mineral Belt I had the spark. I was thinking about solar energy for the house, grease for the ambulance and maybe propane for the van. That is what it is all about. I decided that I will pull this trip off . I will return and begin to make these dreams reality. As Ted says “You have great idea’s, you just need to act.” So I will start working towards that goal. Today was a huge step forward. I went to the Dentist. I did something for me.

Tuesday 06/10/08
I have been thinking what I should put on paper or computer screen so here we go. Last weekend I was in Moab Utah with a friend. We road our bikes over and then meet up with a couple of others in a 4x4 and we headed out on the Kokapelli trail. It is a 4x4 trek over to Moab. The plan was a little riding and then camp for the night and then into town for some motorcycle tech stuff. Well, to our surprise we were able to do some trail side repairs with a little ingenuity and a pair of vise grips. I broke a cluth cable and was able to put it back together with vise grips. things like this that will come up on our way south, so it is always good to know we have skills.
Well that was last week this week I am back in Wisconsin with my family. It is the first all family vacation we have had as adults. We have rented a cabin, well I should say a house on the lake and all the toys, and have brought all our selves together to celebrate our parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. What does this have to do with Fragile Xpedition? I have brought the bike here to be ridden, that makes my ass tougher, and also to get some input from my dad and my brother. Dad is the mechanic and my brother is the one that I watched riding motorcycles growing up and were I first dreamed of riding around the country and now the world. It is good to have them present while I prepare for this. I have always enjoyed there imput and there presence, but have not been able to have it due to our geographic separation. I would love to have them around, but our lives have taken us separate directions and we must take advantage of our time together. Well enough of that, glad we are able to share.
As Simon prepares to head to Alaska and start heading south, I am anxiously preparing here in Colorado for his arrival and our departure south from here. We have been talking on the phone and making plans. I have the bike, a 2004 KLR 650. The panniers have arrived from Happy trails and today I went to Areostich and picked up a pair of Darian Pants. I think all I have to do is prepare my stuff and do a couple of more packing trial runs. The first was with out the panniers last weekend when we went over to Moab Utha and did a little dual sport riding, a few trail repairs and some networking. Still have some work to do. Ok I will call it quits for now and I will try and write something meaningful tomorrow.

06/11/08
Well I am sitting here again and trying to figure out what to say. As much as I have been thinking about all this since Simon brought it up last year, the last few months have really had my mind racing. The month of May has been most productive. I received the stickers that I ordered and I also had some t-shirts made. It has been fun distributing them and talking about the trip.
I also picked up my new used KLR that will take me through Central America with Simon. I was so proud of find the old girl on line making the deal and bringing her home for my birthday. Now that she has been in the stable for a month I am wondering if I should have been more diligent about finding a newer bike. I went to Moab Utah last week and had a bit of a problem when a clutch cable broke in the back country. Not a huge problem, just a bit of thinking a vise grips and we were able to make it to town and buy a replacement. Today I went to go for a ride after we mounted my pannier racks and heard a clunk. Stopped, took a look and noticed I had broken my master link in the chain. Again not a big deal went over to the local shop and picked up a new link and prepared to put it all back together, not so quick. When remounting the chain I noticed a bit of play in the rear wheel and noticed I may have a bad rear wheel bearing. So I will need to tear it down and see what it needs. All a bit discouraging since I am planning to put 10000 miles on the old girl. Some might look as this is just the beginning of many issues and problems that will come up as we make our way south. I just look at them as training. We are going to meet some great people and have a few bumps in the road, but I figure if it can be fixed or solve we will be able to do it. The couple of challenges I have had and we will encounter along the way are nothing compared to the families living with Fragile X. I look forward to the challenge and look forward to spreading the word in order to make their challenges a bit easier. wish me luck.

Saturday 06/21/08

Today I have been working on my rear hub and have determined that it is beyond my capability. I have this lateral play in the rear sprocket. I originally thought I may be missing a spacer after researching the problem at KLR World .com, however after taking it apart and inspection it with the parts diagram all parts are there. So I am going to see if the KLRWorld folks have any suggestions and then take it in to be examined by a expert. I am really getting excited. I have a copy of the Long Way Down and am watching it as I prepare some stuff. I feel like the task at hand is overwhelming, but it will all come together. Until next time.
Since Simon has asked me to write a note for the blog I have written rewritten and written again. The last month it has all been coming to reality. I purchased my KLR and have been sorting it out. A used bike although economical needs some tender loving care. Broke a clutch cable on a trip to Utah last month and was able to test my trail road side mechanical skills. All worked out and it made me realize the importance of planning ahead. The panniers we order arrived before my trip home to WI for my parents 50th wedding anniversary, what a accomplishment, so I toke them with me and had the pleasure of my fathers help in mounting them. It was a great feeling to work with Dad and have his assistance in my preparations.
While I was home I was blessed to spend time with my brother, sisters nieces and nephews. It made me so grateful that all are healthy reaffirming the importance of our mission; raise awareness and funds for the families of the world that suffer from Fragile X. It is easy to forget the needs of others when all of your family is safe and healthy. I am so excited to be able to be a part of this. I`m so EXCITED. Cant wait for you to get here Simon.

Sians Story. By Susan - my sister - my drive

2008-04-28T19:36:00.006+01:00

SIAN

This is Sian my beautiful, happy, loving 14 year old daughter.
Sian has full mutation Fragile X Syndrome she has severe learning difficulties and Autistic Spectrum Disorder. I have found this hard to come to terms with as I know girls are usually affected less severely, although I realise this must come with its own set of difficulties.
I love the article ‘Welcome to Holland’ by Emily Perl that Simon has already included in the blog. For me it sums up the pleasure and pain of having a child with a disability. It also expresses how lucky I have been in all the people who have come into my life because of Sian.
I began to worry about Sian’s development when she was about 30 months old. By the age of 3 1/2 she had been diagnosed with Fragile X Syndrome. I realise now that we were lucky to get such a quick diagnosis. We were seen by a brilliant Community Paediatrician who was aware of Fragile X Syndrome and told me to insist on her being tested for this when she was seen at our local hospital.
When Sian was 5 we were very fortunate to be funded by our local LEA to teach her at home on a Lovaas programme. This is a language based behaviour modification programme. “If a child can’t learn in the way we teach, we must teach in a way the child can learn” [O Ivar Lovaas]. If you want to know more about this you can contact Peach (Parents for the Early Intervention of Autism in Children) at http://www.peach.org.uk/. Please don’t be put off by the word Autism. These methods can be used with children or adults with all types of learning disability. Sian was on the programme for 5 ½ years. We employed a team of six therapists – who have become close family friends and, without wanting to sound clichéd, gave us our child back. I am convinced that without the programme she would never have been able to access the wonderful school placement she has at the moment. She gained an attention span, confidence and an interest in the world around her, although this is still, and I think will remain only on her terms.
Sian is now in her fourth year at a wonderful school. I love her school because they have a holistic child centred approach to education. They have continued to build on the work started by her therapists on the Lovaas Programme and she is making steady progress. Sian’s teacher, has kindly put fingers to keyboard to explain what it is like for him to have her in his class.
“When I first took Sian in September last year I was a little nonplussed as to how I would meet her needs and as to what progress I could expect or hope to make. She was the first pupil I had encountered who showed no desire to communicate with the others around her. If left to her own devices she would spend the whole day looking at picture books and magazines. She would look at them flicking fervently back and forth through the pages and licking the pictures she liked, thereby ruining for others many of the books she came in contact with.
Her communication was very basic and her targets at the time were for her to communicate using Picture Exchange Communication System (PECS) symbols. I noticed however that she did have a certain amount of speech and decided to try and encourage that. I started out by insisting that she said good morning and worked from there. She can say it quite well but will tend to mumble it incoherently. When spoken to firmly she will use it quite clearly. Her mother told me that she is more capable than you would think from observing her and that she hides her own capabilities. I agree with this as she often achieves things quickly when offered books as a reward. Although she doesn't speak willingly, her speech has improved and her targets are now related to oral communication rather than speech production.
Sian's relationships with the other members of the class were minimal with both staff and peers. She knew another girl in the class from activities outside the school and they would occasionally put their heads together and look each other in the eye. I started to try this with her and she has progressed to the point where she now has moments of being very affectionate with the staff in her class. She will suddenly, almost desperately, ask for a tickle or a squeeze and once this has been given, she will just as suddenly turn off. I believe this to be very good progress as previously she would only do this with her family.
Although it is a challenge, I have enjoyed working with Sian and I am pleased with the progress she has made. I was surprised when I discovered she could recognise her own name in print and I think it remains to be seen exactly what she is capable of.
Finally, it has taken many years but I have come to terms with Sian’s disability. I don’t think this is a gift from God but I feel it is meant to be. Sian has a brother Tom who is 13 and for me he summed everything up when he said “I wouldn’t want Sian to not have Fragile X because she wouldn’t be Sian.”

Snowflakes - a lonely office - Homage & Thanks

2008-04-06T15:38:00.003+01:00

Its just turned April. The clocks have moved an hour forward. The urban birds are back, singing the South London neighborhoods awake on mild mornings and it’s snowing! Not just snowing, but chunking it down! I have just lost an hour standing at my deserted office, reception post, doing my Sunday security job, with my face pressed up against the large windows under a noisy heater, grinning, like a kid longing to get out and dive into the inevitable snowball wars with the neighbors kids. Mind you it doesn’t seem to be settling. The huge flakes are windlessly, wandering down from the sky and dissolving on impact leaving nothing but wet, with no white. Standing there has set my mind wandering. I cant help feeling amazed at how people cope with their lives when they have disabled children that become disabled adults. The hardships they deal with 24hours a day. The optimism they think, feel and show i only hope rubs off to the rest of us out there leading the usual life. My sister Susan has said to me with a reassuring smile "this is my life now". Out of that brutal realization comes the iron built optimism i mention. As well as undefeatable strength. That in itself has inspired me to ride into the magic and mayhem that the road from prudhoe to ushuaia will be. Where does that courage come from? When parents, like Susan and Ian, my brother in law, notice that their own kids will never be the same as the kids, having snowball wars, dancing around in the school playground or down the high street with their mates chatting and laughing as young kids do, in that regular, unsolitary daily existence. “this is my life now”, WOW ! Unbelievable! I want that level of spirit! . Thank the universe also for those single-minded researchers and society workers, who strive for knowledge and results to aid the families affected with syndromes such as Fragile X. I recently read an article, which Magdalena kindly sent me, saying that researchers funded by FRAXA have discovered that a drug used to treat afflictions, such as acne and lyme disease, might be able to reduce anxiety & behavioral problems in people with fragile X. Tests start this spring. Fingers crossed on that then ! For in-depth understanding visit the FRAXA.org site and click on research.

Publicity has been growing for the FXPedition of late. Nite Watches, who run an anything is possible initiative, have taken me on board, with great interest. They have been doing publicity for me, which lead to a Television interview on Nuts TV. A great confidence boosting experience for me on a personal level , which I enjoyed after being apprehensively scared stiff , but followed it through for the cause, which can only help the spread of awareness of Fragile X. Nite watches have created a range of essential out door activity watches, which are proven to be robust and unique at a very reasonable price. If you are involved with the great outdoors, or even just clumsy with a habit of smashing watches, I strongly recommend a look at their range and a read of the interesting gaseous inventions of their watch mechanics. Dave Gurman, the editor of Riders Digest kindly wrote a fantastic article on the FXPedition, getting right to the point in an honest, real way, which isn’t surprising really to anyone who knows the riders digest. I have to be honest and say that Dave’s magazine, which is free by the way, gets to the heart of matters bikes and beyond in ways the glossy pay for mags just cant find. A unique, earthy read ! a pleasure & an education ! I must mention also, after loads of research and past experiences I was having trouble finding the right kit, as in bike clothing for the trip, to get. In the end I found Hideout leathers, out there in darkest Essex. Thinking that normally sellers just want a sale and I wont get any help really I only went along because they seemed to have a wide selection of race and touring gear. I was wonderfully surprised to find Kate & Sandra working in what seemed like a small farmyard barn, stacked out with all the right stuff and willing to get stuck in with all the help and advice I needed, comparing all different styles for all climates & even making a phone call to a Dakar racing acquaintance for advice for me, which lead to me finding what looks like the right choice of gear ! . I want to Thank Magdalena “Maggie” Mayo also , for helping me loads, in making contact with People in Latin America, her input to the Blog and also giving me the kick in the rear that I needed to get a bit more organised ! .. Donations have been slowing up recently, but with all the publicity bubbling up the awareness importantly is getting out there! Thank you again and again to everyone who has donated so far. Remember if you are considering donating, bare in mind please that your donation IS going straight to the Fragile X Society and not slipping into my wallet.

International day of disability – Puerto Madryn - Argentina. Introduction by Magdalena

2008-02-24T10:28:00.003Z

The following short Film shows my aunt, Cristina Camarasa speaking about an exhibition set for the International Day of Disability in Puerto Madryn. The exhibition was set up to show a group of young disabled adults and the work they do, outside the institutions set up to help disabled people. For example there is artwork produced by disabled people as well as a photography exhibition showing pictures of others playing sports. The intention of the exhibition is to inform society that young disabled people are also capable of doing everyday things and that friends, family and society need to support, encourage and give them the freedom they need to achieve their goals.
Hace click en el siguiente enlace para ver a mi tía hablar sobre una exposición de fotografía en Puerto Madryn para el día internacional de la discapacidad, mostrando las cosas que hace la gente con discapacidad como ser deportes y arte.

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Magdalena - Historia

2008-02-24T09:33:00.007Z

My story/ Mi Historia

Me entere del viaje de Simon mientras visitaba a mis primos en Puerto Madryn, Argentina. Yo vivo y trabajo en Londres hace 17 años y visito Argentina cuando es posible a visitar a mi familia. Mi tía me contó que un chico ingles planeaba un viaje por América para recaudar fondos para la sociedad X frágil de Inglaterra y buscaba contactos en América Latina. Inmediatamente me intereso el proyecto porque yo tengo dos primos que son X frágil y conozco como afecta este síndrome a la familia y la poca ayuda y conocimiento que hay sobre esta discapacidad. Así fue como me decidí a encontrarme con Simon en mi regreso a Londres para ofrecerle mi ayuda en lo que fuera necesario.
Como tengo un poco de conocimiento sobre los medios de publicidad le sugerí a Simon que esto debería ser su prioridad para que el viaje sea un éxito. Simon esta recaudando fondos para la sociedad X frágil de Inglaterra pero hemos decidido que durante su viaje lo más importante es concientisar a la mayor cantidad de gente posible sobre lo que es el síndrome X. El Síndrome X Frágil es la causa genética más común de deterioro mental, pero a pesar que ha sido identificado en todo el mundo, se estima que el 90% de los individuos que lo padece aun no ha sido diagnosticado. Por esta razón Simon se concentrara en difundir información sobre el síndrome y las sociedades y organizaciones donde personas afectadas pueden buscar apoyo. No existen organizaciones o sociedades en todos los países de América pero esperamos poder poner personas en contacto con si mismas para apoyarse y en los casos que se pueda, crear organizaciones de apoyo e información. Por esta razón si usted conoce de personas u organizaciones que quisieran cooperar con el proyecto, de difundir información y crear publicidad durante el viaje de Simon por favor contáctese con nosotros. Todavía estamos buscando contactos en México, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panamá, Colombia, Ecuador y Bolivia. Realmente deseo que todos podamos hacer nuestro pedacito para poder apoyar, ayudar, informar y concienciar a la mayor cantidad de personas posibles y crear un movimiento positivo global.

Magdalena Mayo
Maggie_mayo@hotmail.com

I found out about Simon’s xpedition while I was visiting my cousins in Puerto Madryn, Argentina. I have lived and worked in London for the last 17 years but I try to go back to Argentina as much as possible to visit my family. I was immediately drawn to Simon’s project because both my cousins suffer from Fragile X and I know first hand how this disability affect my family as well as the lack of support groups and information there is about this disability. This is how on my return to London I got in touch with Simon and offered him my help. We got together and I shared our experiences of the disability and talked about how best to take his idea forward. We agreed that publicity is the most important thing to achieve, not just for the xpedition but also to spread as much information as possible about the fragile X syndrome. Few people know that Fragile X Syndrome is the most common inherited cause of mental disability and it is often wrongly diagnosed as autism. Despite this there are very few organisations or societies offering support to families affected by fragile X, particularly in Latin America. We hope that Simon’s xpedition brings people affected by fragile X together and that it creates enough publicity to spread the word about what this disability is about and how it affects people. We are still looking for contacts in Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Ecuador and Bolivia who Simon is able to visit. If you are interested in this project or know someone affected by Fragile X, please send us an email or donate using the link on the right.

Intermidiate ramblings

2008-02-23T08:26:00.009Z

Most people have in their memories, images of Shackleton`s ship The Endurance, wedged in the jaws of Antarctic ice or Hilary and Tensin`s grinning, burnt complexions descending in triumph, but what about names like Carl Stevens Clancy, stanley Glanfield, Avis & Effie Hotchkiss, or Ted Simon, Dan Walsh. These names, with images of bent handlebars buried in deserts, rusty paint cracked panniers smothering machines and ancient brown bomber jackets are only wedged in the memories and research of motorcycle obsessed minorities. They deserve their names & stories stuck in the vaults of hero`s. Forerunners in the world of " Adventure Motorcycling" without whom i doubt i personally would`ve had the belly to do this FXPedition. It looks like the first round the world by motorcycle was in 1913. Carl Stevens Clancy, an American, rode his Henderson motorcycle 19,000 miles though Europe, North Africa, Asia, Japan, west coast States onto East coast States. (a similar henderson in the photo)

This must have been pure endurance and a great advertisment for the Henderson company, proving the machines ruggedness and reliability. Imagine it though, feeling every internal organ shaking pot hole, on terribly maintained roads (if there was any maintenance), no machanics in every town, hardly any fuel stops and basic clothing unsuited for the ever changing climate. These Bikes were not fast either, you couldn`t just blast out parts of the route at an average 80mph. There is some history of a mother and daughter team, Avis and Effie Hotchkiss riding their sidecar outfit the whole length of the States, undirectly covering 5000miles, in 1915, how they must have been looked at with judgmental eyes. We jump to 1928 now. Stanley Glanfield devoured 18,000 miles and 4 continents in just 8 months. He was riding a Rudge Whitworth combination, with a "wapping great" 3.5 horse powered single cylinder motor. How did the locals in the far Mesopotamian mountains see and behold a grumbling, rumbling sidecar outfit with a wide eyed lonely Englishman, "what - oh"-ing it up & grinning at them ??. Not long after this Mad Dogman, along rode Another Young North American. Robert Edison Fulton Jr. 1932 to be exact. He rode a huge 40,000 miles in 18 months on a Douglas T6 twin, which going by a rare photograph ( i can`t show) started to actually take the appearance of a modern bike and not look like a victorian Hobby horse. By this time it looks like they had started to get to grips with the bike travel stuff, because the bike was modified with a larger fuel tank, room for his luggage, including a movie camera and 14,000 feet of film, also enough space for clothing and a sneaky place for his gun (wonder if he used it ?). In later years the bike travel bug spread, bikes became more accesible to the average person, like everything else and the stories were spreading, which inspired people to bite the bullet and get out there. Elspeth Beard, a fearless young English woman of 24 years went out to eat up 48,000 miles on a BMW. Then of course you have Ted Simon, who in the early seventies took his triumph out there for 4 years, subsequently writing the book Jupiters Travels, an honest, exciting, insighful coverage of his adventures. A book loved by all , including anti- motorcycling, couch lords. Then theres Dan Walsh. A riding writer, lost in the wilds, that appears in the UK`s BIKE magazine, from time to time. A definate inspiration, finding comical, sometimes dark and insightful situations. I think most of us search Bike mag every month hoping that Dan has managed to fill some pages with that colourful, rich & dangerous prose of his. Unlike a lot of adventurers these handful of characters went in search of stuff other than glory, that i am sure of, which makes my hat go out further to them. My hat comes off again to go out to all the invisble ones who over the years and now, also ride across, war torn lands, beauracratic walls, dangerous jungles, over populated unknown cities and general life threaten situations everyday in search of something other than the usual mundane nothingness. What is it about motorcycling that gets in the blood forever ?

There is definatly a strong bond amongst motorcyclist, no matter what kind of riding they are involved in, whether its blasting around as fast as possible, lording it up outside the local cafe or riding as far as possible chasing something inside, we all make time for each other and instantly become more than aquaintances, listening easily to each of our stories. I learnt of this bond when i was 16, bone shaking around on a Yamaha FSIE 50cc rascal, which had a habit of falling apart each time i parked up somewhere. On a winters night my little FSIE decided to fall apart once more, which left me with my head in my hands screaming obsenities at a broken gear lever, when a loud bass rumbling machine came up the street (a washed out kawasaki Z1000, carrying two oil faced, older than me urchins, with tattoed cobwebs on their necks. I thought this was my time to die, until these gentlemen spent half an hour out of their precious terrorising to help me out & fix the bike until i could ride off once more. Some say its the freedom a bike brings, some say it clears a cluttered mind, some say its as close to being part of the earth around them, feeling the temperature drop in the woods, then feeling the sunshine the other side. A famous quote : "Driving a car is like watching a film, but riding a bike is like being in a film". I do know that during a long ride the mind goes to other places, sometimes shockingly profound places that gets forgotten that night around the dinner table. The risks are massive, and we all know this. Maybe thats where the bond is. Knowing the risks brings an acute sense and vision of things. Reading the road and expecting the worse. Knowing what that nut case in the rickerty truck, with the family of pigs on the roof is going to head straight for you expecting you to ride off the road out of HIS way. Everything and all of it is Fun, even when your buttocks are killing you and the Darker than usual storm is following you everywhere until you are soaked beyond the bone. On top of this i think that riding into everywhere on my trip will get me noticed more so than any other means of transport, which will get the message of Fragile X out there on a wider scope. Down sides to Motorcycle travel ? There isn`t any !

A date is settled. I leave the fluffy safety of England on 3rd August. (Lee, you know it makes sense !)

The necessary hero - The bike

2008-01-12T08:57:00.001Z

There has never been any doubt in my mind as to which motorcycle would take me through this adventure, even when confidence and imagation took over and i dreamt of riding the route on something ridiculous like a pink 50cc monkey bike or C90 pizza step through. Or even doing a Nick Sanders and chase the horizon on an R1, But i`ll leave those fruit cake dreams to the really, really adventurous, for now anyway...The Kawasaki KLR650. A cult classic dual-sport machine. A bike the massive Japanese manufacturer hasn`t altered, as their rivals where altering their machines year after year. The Kwak has stayed the same, maybe a few stickers here and there, since the mid eighties upto last year. It seems like that wasnt a wrong move, as the KLR has been right up there in sales to the adventurous North American global munching motorcycle adventurers, commuters, local trail riders, beginners and general bike lovers, state side. But over here on our little Island the KLR has been sitting despondent in the shadows of all other species of bikes. I think we love our silly accleration and top end madness to much and without to much legal off road availability, the Kwak has no hope here. I have only seen one in the past year, parked up in the car park of the sinister white swan pub in Stepney (wonder what his story is ?). The bike is no high performance motocrosser, or quick off the lights fireblade humiliator, like some KTM`s have been known to be. Its built to eat miles on all sorts of terrain, even though its a mass produced machine, which the japanese are known to mass produce using cheaper materials. If the US marine corp use them, with only a few modifications (including a diesel conversion, done for logistical reasons) it must be a monster for high mileage and rough treatment. A heart beat 651cc, watercooled calmly vibing single cylinder, weighing in at around 155 kilos, humble horsepower, with a grunty low-mid range, fed by a 40mm carb, this bike is a basic as they come, which to me says : low running costs, enough grunt to get out of panic spots, accessible parts in obscure places and simple maintenance (mind you i could be very wrong as i am not mechanicaly minded, without lots of effort). The fuel tank holds around 6.1 US gallons, that i remember let me squeeze around 250-ish miles from. Its a tall bike, that i have to prepare myself for when mounting, instead of just jumping on, but once up there in the clouds feel absolutly at home on, it fits. On dirt i havent found the height a problem. I have used a lower BMW F650 also and didnt find my basic off road skills any different from that of riding the KLR..... There a few obvious other choices of adventure bikes out there, like the humungous Beamers and the gorgeous KTM adventure series, but these bikes cost an arm and a leg to initialy buy, so they are out of the question for me, let alone they are just to show offy and to much to handle on the dirt for myself. I owned a Yamaha XT660X supermoto last year and was very tempted to have a go on the americas with that, (haven`t heard of a supermoto doing the route) but after getting sensible again and seeing its such a cheaper option to buy the bike in the states than to ship my own, the XT was filed away in my mind, shame really coz that was a fun machine.Aprilia, suzuki and even MZ produce dual sports aswell, but after looking into and past experiences, the KLR just gives me no choice..... the wide handle bars give superb leverage when on dirt and on the tarmac, where Counter stearing into the twisties on the KLR is a right grin, even if not at missile speeds. After saying all this, i have to mention that i have never owned a KLR. I have only ridden approximatly 4000 miles around South Africa and Alaska on one, thats where i draw my judgement from. In those miles i have trouble finding any complaints, infact i have non !.... looks of a bike are irrelevant for a trip like this, apart from the fact that discretion is probably a large point, in not showing off on a shiny, brand new, custom sprayed "ive got money" machine ,in those wonderful less fortunate countries. Saying that though, i love the Mad Max, battlefield looks of the KLR, which definatly sits on the lower dirtier end of the Obvious "have money" stick.

The plan is to buy the KLR in Anchorage, Alaska with the help of a good friend, Phil Freeman, who runs the superb Alaska Rider Tours outfit up there. I have ridden with Phil on a number of occasions and completly trust his knowledge, experience and large adventuristc tendancies, which are infectious. He has a legion of bikes including some wise old KLR`s which one of, has my name and rear size written all over it. I cant wait to meet the machine that will take me out there !

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE ! NAVIDAD ALEGRE !

2007-12-16T12:31:00.000Z

To all that are reading this and to all families affected by Fragile X. To all those wonderful people working within Fragile X organisations. To all those future friends, who i am going to meet on the road and to all those who have helped me out with the venture, i want to wish you HUGE HUGE heart felt wishes of Major merryness this christmas and i hope 2008 brings you delights unheard of !.... I am working all over the festive season, but will be smiling my head off, willing the new year in, warm with the thoughts of what 2008 will bring on the road from Alaska to Ushuaia..

De aqui en Londres. A todos en America Latina, mi le deseo un Navidad alegre y un prospero ano nuevo !excitado a reunion de usted por mi expedicion en 2008 !

New directions

2007-11-24T15:26:00.000Z

My route is evolving all the time. As i have mentioned before i can only describe a rough plan, but with the contact i am gratefully recieving from the kind people involved with Fragile X in the Americas, i am starting to get a more focused route. Above is my new, at the moment route. A few deviations that i have described in my last post.

Rejection - Understanding - Solace - Excitement !

2007-11-18T08:08:00.000Z

" This sponsorship malarkey , will be a doddle ! - companies and people will want to give, knowing their donation is going straight to a worthy cause and not funding some naive nut case who plans to ride a motorcycle up and over everywhere "

That was my first thought, as this idea of the FXpedition bombarded my brain, leaving not much room for any other thoughts, instincts, or even desires. I was a little off the mark. It has become the hardest challenge i have ever found my face facing. One that has had me waking up the wrong way round in bed, with the covers wrapped around my neck, on more than a few occasions. I wouldn`t change it for anything ! I have been sending emails and phoning all sorts of companies, from local hot dog sellers to huge global munching corporates. Some have said back to me " yes, we are interested, send us your plans" some have said "soooo, what publicity are you getting ? " but most say " NO ! . publicity, thats the Profound key. I need constant articles in all publications, reaching a wide base of readers. So far i have been lucky in finding the wonderful people from, bike animal, dirt bike rider mag and briefly MCN, who as i have mentioned in past posts have given me publicity, reaching the motorcycle audience here in the UK. I am no journo, with an agent so getting constant articles written in the larger publications is near on impossible, but i will keep trying to charm and convince the rascals to let me in ! then the larger would be donaters will raise more than one eyebrow. We have the big NEC bike show next week, so i am going to stick my face in every direction there. It will be a chance to meet all sorts of people involved in all aspects of biking. I have made hundreds of flyers (pic above) that have been scattered everywhere, in tea shops, bike shops, on top drink dispensers, in prams, in pockets, in windows and everywhere i see a gap. Thank you Andrew Morten, down there in KIWI heaven for spreading the word, and especially getting that radio mention in Auckland. Thanks to Nadine and the other Simon Siggs (top name !) down there in OZ for flying the flyers all over also !

I am chuffed to pieces and will be forever grateful to all the people who have individually donated so far. Every time i see another donation, my confidence blooms and i get hungrier to see this through. Your generosity is unsurpassed. I have to say AON, my primary sponsor have been amazing. They have backed me with no questions asked or no pressure of getting them publicity. Thank you AON.

My route South is evolving in exciting ways i wasn`t expecting. I have been getting some fantastic correspondence going with people from all over the Americas, involved with Fragile X Syndrome. I am now riding more easterly in Canada, moving off of the Rockies spine and heading for Saskatoon, where i hope to meet up with Jamie, an enthusiastic young lady, who has a nephew with Fragile X. Jamie is on her own mission for Fragile X, so i wish her all the best with that, knowing she, after only some small correspondence will take all challenges she faces, in her stride. Uruguay is calling also. Virginia , the secretary of the Uruguay Fragile X association, i have been corresponding with, so i am going to turn left out of Bolivia, riding across northern Argentina, with a small side trip ( a couple of 1000km) to find the Valle De La Luna (the valley of the moon, how can i resist ?!!), heading back to cross from Argentina into Uruguay at Frey bentos (ring any bells ??). Or if the present political grief hasn't subsided by then at that crossing, i will cross more northerly at Paysandu or Concordia, then head down into montevideo where i hope to meet Virginia, Daniela, who has a son affected with Fragile X, and all the others in their association. We will strive to get local publicity from their local media, which will spread some needed awareness. I am really excited about visiting Uruguay because i hadn`t planned on going there. Next, i am riding down into Patagonia to visit senor Flia Gracia Owen, who has brilliantly written to me also. Flia lives in Trelew, a gorgeous scenic part of Argentina, situated very close to Gaiman, which is an enigmatic welsh settlement town in windy beautiful Patagonia. The FXPedition is turning into something global, something i didnt even imagine it would be. I am happier than ever over what its becoming. Fingers crossed i will get more contact with people over there, to Zig Zag my route even more, taking me to new unthought of places on that magnificent, diverse, otherworldy landmass !

I want more stickers to saturate my bike with, so if you have a company large or small, sponsor this venture so i can stick your company stickers all over my panniers ! send me your t-shirts aswell, so i can wear them when getting media photos taken on this advertising opening of a trip ! If you are interested and have ideas of your own, i am all ears and up for more challenges on route !

Remember ALL DONATIONS DO NOT FUND ME IN ANYWAY. ALL DONATIONS GO STRAIGHT TO THE FRAGILE X SOCIETY.

¿es afectado usted por el síndrome x frágil y vivo en América Latina?

2007-10-27T14:31:00.000+01:00

en primer lugar, por favor perdóneme cuando mi español de América Latina no está bien en este momento, entonces uso a un traductor de Internet.

por este gran viaje de motocicleta, quiero encontrar a la gente de países diferentes a lo largo del camino, que está implicada con el síndrome x frágil, si ello ser con una organización o tener a un miembro de familia con x frágil. Creo que en la reunión podemos crear algo global, algo que sólo puede ser un movimiento en una dirección positiva. en la llegada juntos podemos ganar el interés de los habitantes del barrio y los medios locales, extendiendo la conciencia a tantas personas como podemos.

tan si usted leer este y vive en América Latina por favor para enviarme por correo electrónico vía el chasquido de contacto en el lado derecho del derecho encima, debajo del viejo mapa y vamos a cosas arange desde allí. me he puesto en contacto con la gente en Norteamérica hasta ahora, entonces este viene todo juntos muy bien.

gracias para su tiempo y muchísimo tan la superficie inclinada espero a visitar sus países hermosos.

buena suerte todos