The people we meet shape our lives

I have met some truly inspiring individuals over the years.
I would be here all day if I was to talk about them all, but there are three who have influenced me recently
One is the Author Kirsten Koza, she is an adventure author who rides her beat up old mountain bike in countries most people think of as simply being hell.
She has a wonderful nack for excitement, and a natural wanderlust.
She discovered me on an online forum, and encouraged me to enter her journalist contest.
I did so, twice even, I would do well in her competitions but even with her encouragement I was unable to finish the books I have been writing.
While I sit at another miserable job, she is off on another amazing adventure in South America. Maybe its time I finished those books.

A few months ago doing laundry I began chatting with a fellow cyclist who came up with a bike loaded way to heavy.
His Name was Jacob, he saved up some money, quit his job, saddled up his bike and decided to ride to the east coast.
What an amazing adventure! changing his life while he was still able, and in a big way.
We would talk for quit some time about his journey, and where it would lead, both helping to chase each others demons out of our heads.
Meeting him simply helped to re affirm that I am still able to make my dream ride of South America via Motorcycle come true.
While I sit, plan, and try to come up with the money, he has already completed the first phase of his trip, and sits to contemplate going back to the mundane world, or riding further south on his bike.
I sit here blogging.

In Park City while scrounging the crappy continental breakfast at the timeshare I was staying at. I would be entertained by a 91 year old harmonica player, I wondered how much of a hint that was, I have made a feeble attempt at learning to play the harmonica as it is the perfect instrument to carry on my journey. So far, I have been unsuccessful.
The man working the front desk would interest me though, and I would not unfortunately catch his name.
He came Africa, he has lived here much of his life but his accent was still thick.
We would talk about his homeland, and the easier way of life, and the healthier way of life.
We talked about helping people, and apparently where he grew up, if a woman who was nursing was no longer giving milk, they would pass the baby onto another woman to nurse. I found this amazing, nothing like the Africa I have been told.
I talked about how I am trying to help a school out in the Philippines, how I wanted use my construction experience in each country to teach basic sanitation we take for granted in the US.
"You were ment to do great things" he would tell me

I dono about that, I am still just sitting on my ass trying to make a dream come true, but his words, simply meeting him, would inspire me to push harder to make a difference.

If you take a step back, you will never stop going backwards.

dollars a day they claimed. Cept a single beer in Northern Europe cost 4 dollars, a hostel room 35 dollars on and on.
nearly three months later I had blown about eight grand, I had a 1200 stash at home to look for work get another apartment ect (this was 95).
However I was tired, exhausted from riding trains, the guy I was traveling with was cantankerous and we were tired of looking at eachother. We stood at the tunnel entrance from France to England and neither of us could justify the 75 dollar ticket to the island.
We then decided for Ireland, but we missed two ferries, tired of all the trials and tribulations we came home.
I will most likely never go back to Europe, yet one of my greatest regrets was not finishing that little bump as we had planned.
I heard something way to late in life, and I wish I had heard it when I was young.
A man motorcycling south America was kidnapped by rebels.
He spent weeks starving and abused, when finally free the FBI was willing to fly him home. He refused, saying "If I go home they win"
I was shocked, how could he say that? they already won? so what? go home, get well you can always go back.
He didn't go home, instead he took off riding South America and that later turned into riding the world.
Recently those words rang true to me.
Unable to get the time off I needed to ride my Motorcycle to visit my Sister and her friends vacationing in Park City Utah, I almnost called it quits.
But waking up Saturday morning I said screw it, I tossed my already packed motorcycle saddlebags in my truck and off I went.
The trip would be somewhat normal, until I would find myself spending 75 dollars ( I see a pattern here) to go on the Olympic bobsled ride at the Olympic Park.
Trouble is that ride is only for one minute, ok but "Once in a lifetime ride" everyone kept saying, loving adventure and chance, I as in.
Until I thought about it, I looked upon the entire track and wondered what in the hell I was doing. How could this possibly be any different than riding a roller coaster?
I would mention this to the guy working the sled "Its like nothing you have ever done"
Im like man, that is a tough one to fill, I have done some pretty crazy shit"
"have you ever experienced 4 gs?" not sure on that one, probably when I was being tossed around in a rolling car, in a safe environment? No

My sister pushed me forward, and hearing the words "Never step back" In my head I sucked it up.
But then I couldn't fit right in the damn bobsled, my broad shoulders jammed me in like a sardine in a can.
" I just don't fit, this sucks" I would say
"You will be fineeeee" they said as they pushed the bobsled off.
It tore down at unbelievable acceleration, I found myself initially staring at the drivers back, being in the second seat my view was not to great.
The uncomfortable feeling and the rough track started to make it suck, but I began looking down the track, as if I was driving/riding to ease my mind, and the enjoyment began.
The world would blurr around, with only the track coming in clear, it shook hard. I could not believe the violent nature of the shaking within the bobsled, it felt like my brain was actually moving around, proof that I indeed do have one.
And then it would end, and wow, the minute seemed like five minutes, what a unbelievable experience.
Nothing like I had ever done, nothing, it was like no roller coaster ride, and certainly not like any race track I had ever been on.

The ride had lasted 69 seconds, so that boiled down to a dollar forty four each second and worth every damn penny.

It came back to that statement, had I never stepped forward on this, or any other adventure, I would have missed out on incredible experiences.
I am sure at some point I missed out on some fabulous things, like everyone I look back and wonder what if?
It does not matter though, what is done and cannot be changed, it is important to only move forward and see what lays beyond the next corner.

Changing directions again

6 years ago I bought my dream bike, I still remember seeing it the first time thinking if the guys selling it had told me it was orange I would have told him to go to hell, but the right music was playing and Three Days Grace "Animal I have become" played and Dads only words "that is one nice damn bike" I was in love.
Over those six years that bike took me to a new level, it would introduce me to the most comfortable ride I could ever experience, its rubber would grab the pavement as I carved canyon corners the rubber melting off the sides, it would stay rubber side down as I explored the roads in rain, ice, now and left over spring gravel on the best corners left on any canyon anywhere.
It would introduce me to the track and like the wild animal it was, leave me behind as I spun like a top wondering where my steed went, reminded of my younger days riding a horse, my my how steel and flesh could be the same.
But now, that ride gone, inspired as a child by Homers Odyssey travel is in my blood, and my desire to see the rest of the world inspires me more than anything else, so off it goes to a new stable and as I wipe a single tear the wind blows into my face, bringing with it the scents of the world, the laughter, the crying the horror and my nostrils breath deep the faint scent of fine spices in India, sand brushes my cheek and I just know it was carried over the vast ocean from the Sahara, but my next goal calls where the Spanish sought to tame, many fell but ultimately they would conquer, and so shall I.
I look forward to the next start of my life, For the past few years I saw the hooded man with a scythe ominous finger pointing. I only recently discovered the true meaning, it is change, as with the skull in south America a new birth, and so my life moves to the next phase, without common comforts my body shall endure and I shall finally touch those grounds that have called me for all of my life, just as other wanders, perhaps me in another life, have trod upon.
I hope the gods guide me, I hope Wodins single eye watches me and gives me strength, I hope Libras scale allows me to give the justice many deserve, Gia helps me teach others how to use the earth properly & reap her gifts for generations to come, , their talismans and Runes shall unlock my mind &I hope those I leave will get to share the journey of a lifetime.
I read once a phrase that so many of you have seen me use. I always post when someone dies, and hell, even when great changes beings I use this. I read in a another book that helped shape who I am today, Louis Lamoure's "The walking drum". That line gives me hope and lets me know that there is always one more road to travel, real or not it is who I am.
Yol Bolson
May there be a road

Suriving Walmart

I stopped at Walmart today to exchange some sweat pants, standing in line I soon realized the trouble I was in, before me were to Mongloids, drooling, fussing over their baby, they glanced over their shoulder at me and I quickly looked away, but my eyes drifted to a Troll walking by, club dragging behind him as he shuffled his feet.
A Zombie walked up and I knew he could smell I was living, I reached behind my back but my Zombie tool was not there, I was alone, left with a pair of oversized sweat pants, car keys, and quick thinking. Another zombie came up, they drooled, the mongloids grunted and drooled, they all seemed to communicate as their gaze drifted to me.
My mouth went dry, I knew I was cornered, there was no escape, my mind raced with responses, and first was the usual Montana response "Looks like it might rain" DOH! that will not work, quick, think, think, wait, don't think, that is the key, so I spoke quickly and surely in their language "Uhhh, uhhh, UHHHH" spittle ran down my chin. It seemed to work, they grunted back and their empty gaze shifted away from me.
The Mongloid baby was glaring at me, its innocents may not have been fooled by my speech, maybe my dialect was wrong ? I could not be sure, but it looked with coal black eyes, its teeth sharp and I was reminded of chucky, my mind raced and I so wanted to scream "Throw it a rat, feed the beast" but I kept calm and tried to keep focused on the cashier.
Only one, that just did not make sense, with the sound of feet and clubs dragging around me I knew it must be a trap. Only having one cashier in a a situation like this was like Vampires having a blood drive, my time was short here, I had to keep the act up to survive.
A blonde came up behind me, her deep blue eyes suggested she was living, I wanted to speak to her but I noticed the Zombies merely shuffled by her, she was safe, safe by her natural hair color and empty headed nature, there was no brain to eat here and the knew it.
"Next" came the humanoid voice, and I shuffled up dragging my foot, not wanting to give myself away.
She spoke "What U want"
"Pants no Fit" I responded "need refund" I replied.
She looked, still seemed somewhat normal but I was not fooled, I would not be brought in, it was a test, I know it.
She handed me the money, and I instantly turned and dodged thru the Mindless Hoard, their eyes more fixated on the shelves than me.
I rushed out the door and Tires squeeled as a bumper stopped just short of my leg, inside the car a woman sat, her eyes wide with terror, I waved, thankful she was human and she yelled "GEt out of the fucking way there is a sale"
I hurried away, knowing better than to confront that one, zombies were deadly but a woman being stopped from going to a sale was like trying ot keep a hippo from getting to water.

Food Food All around and not a bite to eat

I try fairly hard to eat pretty decent, and like everyone I fall off the wagon from time to time.
Today I set out off the wagon and ended up trying to climb back on, in half an hour of wandering around the IGA in whitehall all I saw was food which honestly is barely fit for human consumption, and in the long run really is not.
I had the cheese isle where nearly everything they have was processed and therefore not healthy, I settled on a small 8oz block of cheese which was on sale.
The Meat isle had no Organic presliced meat, so rather than buy hormon, raised turkey and chicken injected with antibiotics I decided to opt out of meat in that respect, and finally settled on some Chicken Pattys all natural from Tyson, probably not all that natural other than being raised but nothing else so it is what I settled upon.
For bread all I could think about was even the best most healthy bread before me, was so infused with preservatives it would not mold for at least a couple of weeks, do I really want that inside me? no
I settled for whole grain crisp crackers, again, not that great but less bread and they are filling so the desire to continually much is not there.
I browsed the fruit isle but with no Organic fruit all I could see was pesticide laced fruits grown from oil based fertilizer with only half the nutritinal value of fruit raised in the 50s and 60s.
I was of course reminded of the story "water water all around and not a drop to drink" and my mind drifted to other countries where a healthy lifestyle is promoted, not shunned.
Why are we not promoting healthy living more? why are people who eat well often looked upon as strange?
Shouldnt those eating unfit fuel for their bodies be looked upon as strange? After all, you would not fill your car up with bad gas, so why your body?

The myth of Oil

Make no mistake about it Oil is hands down one of the best resources we can use to gain power out of, in other words it really takes very little energy in order to get max energy from it, so with that, I love oil.
It is used in absolutely everything in our mainstream life, to the best known Gas, Diesel and of course oil. Without oil and hte ability to make synthetic rubber the poor Rubber trees never could have kept up, so from that alone it was a huge enviromental mircale. It is also used in clothing (nylon for instance) fireproofing, rubber, plastics and Pesticides. You really cannot touch barely anything in your housee without something being made from oil in some way shape or form.
But with that said it has one big problem it is finite and we will and are running out.
BAM up in your seat you get "Oh that is bs the oil boom is going huge in the Dakotas right now and eastern Montana.
Your right, they are but that boom has already came and went, drained dry we are now using Fracking to get oil from the ground. In other words we force Cracks in the earths crust so as to push out hidden oil, take this as the equivilent of squeezing a sponge, in other words, put a fork in her, that goose is cooked.
The problems from Fracking are now coming to light despite millions upon millions to keep the problems hidden.
The first is the polution of water wells, quit simply wells in fracking areas are now completely undrinkable.
Second we have earthquakes, people anytime you crack something what happens? it spreads, it may not be noticeable today, tomorrow or even in 100 years, but mark my words, those crack will spread and hell will come.
Once oil caverns are drilled water fills in those caverns, where does that water come from? Ask texas where lakes are drying up, thats right, water has to come from somewhere so it is seeping into those chasms forever polluted.
So I ask you how much is to much? We have to slow down, not only on the consumer front, but on the government front as well, I keep saying this, and nobody is listening, this is the only rock we have, once its gone, where will your childrens children go?

Motorcycle gear, choosing the right gear for you

Motorcycle gear what to buy? In nearly 25 years of street riding, with lots of thought, research this is what I have come up with.

Well first off choose what you know you will be wearing, whatever the case you want something visible, in the Hurt Report, the most comprehensive study ever made on motorcycle accidents we know that bright colors save lives, so try and avoid anything dark.
Not only that but Black, the most popular color is also hot as hell, something to think about especially if you live in the south. That little bit extra of heat absorbtion does make a noticeable difference and I have had people comment as such who converted to lighter colors.
I know first hand bright colors work, with a lock of gear locally I bought a Harley Leather Motorcycle jacket when I purchased my first street bike, back then I didnt know better, and honestly the market didnt either.
I would wear that jacket for 13 years, have many close calls, and rely in my skills to get me out of bad situations.
Purely on accident I would later with my first sportbike purchase a red jacket to match the color of the bike, I started to notice that I had less close calls, people did tend to see me.
Arguably the most important piece of gear is your helmet, I cannot for the life of me understand why people gear up and then ride around without a helmet, you dont look cool, you look silly IMO.
Anyhow when choosing a helmet first do your research online, http://sharp.direct.gov.uk/ is an excellent source to see how your helmet rates in the event of a crash.
Dot is the absolute minimum you should accept with any helmet rating, I personally dislike snell but it is what is required as the base of all race tracks, ECE and BSI euro standards are also accepted now as well.
Next you want fit, you should wear each helmet for about ten minutes in the store to see how it feels, and also if you can tolerate whatever type of lining is inside the helmet. My first Street Helmet was a Nolan, and while it was an excellent durable helmet, it also had a fabric which made my head itch, so I was unable to wear it as often as I liked, if your head is itching or you are otherwise uncomfortable, you are at that point not paying attention and are in possible danger.
There are two types of fits, one is the street fit, in which you cannot fit your pinky between your forehead and the helmet, next is the race fit, which is snug and pushes your cheek up, this is optimal but understandable why people do not like it.
Also consider that most helmets are made for the standard egg shaped head, Shoe And Arai are expensive but both offer many different inside shapes to fit a variety of heads, they almost always will be lighter as well, something to think about.
Next is venting, the more venting, usually the louder a helmet is, not always but that is the general saying.
Consider you do not have to spend several hundred dollars on a helmet, you do not get more base protection, what you do get is painted graphics as well as more comfy lining, chin snaps to keep your chin strap from slapping around, usually they are more acceptable for sun glass/eye glasses and have padding in the chin piece should your face impact.
Also consider that over 40 percent of accidents include facial impacts, so avoid open face helmets if possible, but they certainly are better than nothing, you can if you tend to feel sophisticated at slow speeds, opt for modular helmets which face flips up completely.

With any Jacket you should have something which is comfy, but somewhat snug, depending on if it has a liner or not, you may want to choose something which can allow for a sweater underneath.
You should look for something which has venting, usually in zipper form, and something with elbow, shoulder and back protection, preferably in the form of "CE"
Textile is my personal preference for regular riding, it offers excellent abrasion resistance and better water resistant capability, it is also lighter and a bit cooler.
If you go with leather you should if living in the south especially look for perforated leather, dont worry, it will not come apart, racers wear perforated leather suits and do just fine, keep in mind while it is probably not so noticeable, leather does offer a bit of impact resistance in and of itself and is the best for abrasion resistance although some tracks have approved Kevlar suits.
You can in hotter climates also opt for mesh jackets which offer hands down the best venting, many also come with liners for cooler riding & dont worry, they should offer adequate protection in the event of a street slide, and keep in mind most accidents happen under 35 mph, even if you are cruising down the highway and something happens odds aer that 65mph crash really was around 35 by the time you slowed down and actually hit the ground.
Next for pants there are great options, if you are riding to work you can in colder times wear textile pull overs, or there are also excellent options of pants with Kevlar and leather lining. I have a pair of Cortech "Jean" pants which also have adjustable knee padding and have light perforated leather lining, very comfy and I like to wear them when I go out.
STAY AWAY FROM CHAPS!
Chaps were used by cowboys for several reasons, first protection against brush, second, protection against rope burns as the rope often would be laid over their legs while pulling a steer around.
The lack of ass protection makes these nearly useless in the motorcycle world, in the event of a crash more than likely you will end up sliding on your ass, and yes, butt cheeks have been torn off.
Gloves are also of course Important, think, how many times as a kid when you wrecked your peddle bike, your knees and hands got the brunt of it didnt they?
Any leather glove is ok, your basic fencing gloves offer excellent abrasion resistance but poor comfort, riding specific gloves will be very comfortable and come as vented or not. My personal preference in this regard are kangaroo palms, Kangaroo skin is half the thickness of cowhide with the same abrasion resistance, they feel like a second skin, pardon the pun.
Gauntlet offer wrist protection as well but are something of a pain in the ass to take off and on, they also have the best padding in key areas of your palm should you go down, they can be a pain to take off and on if you do a lot of stop and go riding.
Last but not least are Boots, something like 60 percent of all motorcycle injuries are ankle injuries, you do not have to have motorcycle specific boots, but they help, anything which comes up well over your ankle is optimal to help with protection from your ankle bending. However keep in mind that laces can catch on your pegs and I have wrecked because of hiking boots, how you ask?? well I was in mud, turning my motorcycle around when I lost traction, I went to put my foot out and my hiker hooked on my rear sets, I fell over, wow was I humiliated. This is something that would not, or should not happen with motorcycle specific boots.
There are racing boots which offer all kinds of wazoo protection and padding in all the right areas, not overly necessary, but if its important to you, get em.
There are rain resistant boots, summer perforated boots and some with optional slide vents which I personally love On my Sidis.
Hope that helps, any questions please feel free to ask.

thanks