“The wise man hears one word and understands two.” E.A. Poe
“Try to spend your time in life doing what you love most, so that when you reach maturity you will be perfectly worn out and finally ready to superbly look forward to that couch without guilt but, not only by the weight of the years you’ve already had but, by the experiences of life, the memories you’ve made. The near death experience can be looked at now as, “it really wasn’t that bad or that close anyway and why did I worry about the little things that never really mattered at all. It’s a race against the clock my friends. Your time is coming too. North to Alaska!
– Unknown Me
Freddy’s English, by his own admission is not yet perfected but, he is now picking up new words from us on a daily basis. I find myself just jumping right into speaking Spanish when Kevin isn’t nearby so, that he may get the maximum translation possible. Roberto 1 and 2 are excellent conversationalist in both English and Spanish.
Yesterday the group met at Joeys Restaurant in Prince George for dinner at a world class fish and chips place. Once we were seated we reviewed our planned route, to sufficiently be able to arrive and meet the others in Anchorage, at the agreed time and place. What this means is that we ride around 309 miles tomorrow, 400+ for the next few days and then we arrive.
When we finally said our “adios” goodbyes at our hotel Freddy and Roberto 2 got on their motorcycles to return to their hotel room. I asked Robert 1 if the boys would be wearing their boots when riding, as I hadn’t seen them doing so yet and not knowing if they brought them as they flew in from Mexico City. Roberto replied, “we have specially made Mexican sandals and sombrero helmets for our ride”.
Through uncontrollable fits of laughter at our own expense we tried unsuccessfully to explain to Kevin why the four of us of Spanish descent found that particular response so hysterically amusing. Kevin still didn’t get it. I think we’ve now all bonded and so have the little Versys sitting outside in the parking lot. The KTM feels lonely and neglected maybe that’s why it started to leak a little oil.
The weather is near perfect this morning at 0530 and Denneys for coffee opens at 0600. Kickstands up at 0700 was the plan however, we’re talking real life Mexicans here and so 0700 translates to about a quarter to nine. I wasn’t far off as the group departed at 0900.
Not a mosquito in sight and we are soon ready to load our small bag onto our little Kawasaki Versys 300 beasts of burden, and Freddys KTM. Kevin’s little white van whom he declared in any way shape or form that it is not a supportervan is now loaded to the gills with all kinds of spare equipment and a Yamaha WR250. The back story is that another rider in Mexico City has chosen to become more a Mr Mom than a superhero adventure rider to Alaska manly man.
He told Roberto 1; sell all my equipment and send me the proceeds. Roberto 1 being the astute and gentleman that he is; made every effort at his disposal to attempt to do so. Everything short of a garage sale.
Seeing no takers, he himself purchased the WR. And then when he relayed the bad news to Luis in Mexico City; Luis declared, then mail it all to me. We tried. I mean really really tried.
Finally a Canadian post opened and we filled a box with all kinds of riding and camping gear. The cost to mail it came out to around $300 US plus, plus. Another iPhone call ensued while countless-Canadians waited in line behind Roberto who was speaking a very foreign language that is not yet common in these parts.
Finally, Luis relented and said; NO. DONT MAIL IT. SEE IF YOUR FRIENDS CAN USE IT. And that my friends is how I ended up wearing these ultra bright orange Klim motorcycle pants. I’m actually enjoying them and can easily blend myself into a fire brigade or a traffic stopper on a construction site.
And to show him what a good sport he was Roberto took a picture of me pulling out a $100 bill out of one of the pockets and sent it to him.
Luis’s KTM 640 experienced irreversible mechanical failure in or around Portland. That’s when the decision was made to purchase the little WR250 while the others upgraded to the Versys. More here but, I need to be sociable now.
Lunch Stop: Pleasant Valley Restaurant in Houston Canada became our lunch stop today. The boys made a comment about how friendly the restaurant wait staff has been since we arrived in Canada. I asked the 18 year old to take a picture of us together and she did.
The heat and not the mosquitoes has become more of a problem as northerly progress is being made. For long periods I’d ride with just one hand on my handlebars and my feet on my highway pegs. The views from Houston Canada to Hazelton Canada where we are here for the night are incredible.
Trawlercat Chronicles 