Sunday, December 18, 2011


Its interesting how far away this jouney we have been on seemed as we did whatever it took to gather the money to catch our return flight.  At times one can even forget that you are actually living a completely different life.  Neither of us had bikes or even houses for that matter.  Our friends housed us as we bounced from sofa to sofa, never unpacking our bags that still carried South American dirt.  This day on our friend´s bikes renewed our spirits and gave meaning to the last months of work.   
Fresh inspirations roars to life here in Knoxville, Tennessee as we pull out 2 bikes exactly like ours from a friend´s garage and hit the town like only a couple of old dirt bike can.  Zooming down railroad tracks and under bridges waking up the homeless tent village, a liberating feeling returned.  On our ride from here to South America on our 1974  Honda XL250 and 350´s, we made it to Colombia before our wallets broke and the dust poured out.  At least for once it wasn´t our bikes.  Well, that´s not entirely the case.  Mike hobbled into our bikes´resting place bouncing on both ends from blown forks and rear shocks, terribly eroded front tire, and a broken subframe, again.  I went to Ecuador for a 3 month gig at a horse expedition company and then returned to Medellin, Colombia to house my bike with Mike´s.  I crept in with a another broken subframe and oil pouring out of an engine that gave out a redlining scream when in neutral.  That´s amongst some of  the problems that we left behind as we hopped a plane and returnd to the United States to work for more gas money.  

Many things came to pass in those months; birthdays, Thanksgiving, even some cross country road trips slipped into the schedule.    

CHRIS:  A righteous brother that will come in later in the story.  

Some sexy new parts for some dirty old bikes.  If you could only have seen the calamity trying to get things like this through the airport.  Security let me through with a huge metal kickstarter but took my fingernail clippers.  

Saying goodbye to the family as we part to return to our normal life,  the one that exists on the road.