…AND GOING WEST any day now. Possibly. Hopefully.
I was sitting here writing about this the other day. The bride looked over my shoulder and said get the motorcycle out of there, stick with Johnny Danger, write his story to a conclusion and sign off. So I did. And it promptly plunged me into a depression. Or what I take for one. So this is what people deal with? Really?
In time, I’ll get past the sadness of having failed to get my wheels back out to the Owens Valley while Danger was still here, but let’s not do this again.
Oboy, well… now I’m waiting on a sign from CCjon that he’s headed north out of Houston, riding to Deadhorse, Alaska. If he goes, he’ll have a biker from Colombia at his side.
That story starts here.
Nestor, the son of CCjon’s late sister-in-law, elder sister of his bride, Amparo, turns up at the door in Houston unannounced. He had air-freighted his V-Strom 650 over the Darien Gap, that lawless, wild, impassable 60 miles between Colombia and Panama, then rode up through Central America and Mexico and into old Tejas.
Nestor rode under the radar in part because Nicaragua is uncommonly unsettled these days. He didn’t want anyone in the family concerned for his safety.
Now his motorcycle is in the States and has to get back to Colombia. He thought of shipping his bike home by sea, with CCjon’s and mine, if we can ever finally get our act together on the South America run. Or maybe he’ll air-freight it out of Miami.
All right, either way, sounds good. But why don’t we ride up to Alaska in the meantime? You know how these things get rolling.
So here you see good ol’ CCjon wrenching on his ride last Sunday, getting set to hit the road. Same bike he rode up to Labrador last summer, made a stop here at the humble manse.
As a citizen of Colombia, Nestor needs a visa to cross the border into Canada. As Americans, CCjon and I don’t (not yet, stay tuned). So Canada says Nestor checks out, we’ll let him in. Next, he’s instructed to FedEx his passport to Ottawa, where they’ll attach the visa. Now it’s a waiting game in Houston, waiting for the passport to come back.
Both bikes are loaded, been on a 100-mile shakedown ride, just waiting on the passport.
They could start riding without it, have Amparo forward the passport to a town up ahead of them, General Delivery, Anywhere, Montana. I did that once. Left for Alaska without my passport, the bride sent it after me, addressed General Delivery, Harlowton, MT, the man sleeping on the ground outside the rodeo arena.
It would probably work fine for Nestor, too. But as you can imagine, a Colombian feels a little naked riding from Texas to Montana without his passport. Given the broad, extra-Constitutional powers assigned to certain agencies, he could be zero-toleranced right out of the saddle and into custody who knows where.
So for now… we wait.
My 650 piglet would be a blast to ride in Alaska, but it’s not quite roadworthy. It’s been sitting out in the driveway for three years waiting to go to South America.
On Saturday I took the right side of the motor apart, to get behind the clutch basket and secure a couple of machine screws that have been known to back themselves out. There’s a risk of catastrophic engine failure if they get caught up in the rotating mass. (Any of you motorheads who are interested can see a nine-minute how-to on the fix here.)
Piglet needs tires and a new battery, which I have on hand. There are spare parts I should be carrying. They’re in transit. I got tired of waiting, so I switched gears and prepped the iron piggy instead.
If and when the passport arrives, I’ll head out and intercept CCjon and Nestor on the road somewhere. They won’t go due north, I’m sure, they’ll go north and west, to get to elevation fast, get off the sizzle of the plains. Me, I’ll night-ride it out to the Rockies, find the shady spots along the way to snooze away the midday sun.
I doubt I’ll ride back up to Alaska with the muchachos. Maybe up into British Colombia and do the turnaround. Been to Alaska on a heavy highway cruiser. At 950 pounds loaded piggy would be a handful on the Dalton Highway, and her highway tires would be mostly scuffed off before we even hit the last 400 miles of gravel to Deadhorse. Why try to get hurt, you know? It’s easy enough without trying.
Maybe I’ll end up in Seattle again, sleep on the boat dock with Jimi the dog.
Remember him? Skip down to the last photo here, he talks to me for three screens after that. Smart pooch. Plus he runs the mountain lions off, so that’s good.
If not Seattle, I might camp a while in the foothills of the Crazy Mountains, on the Lode Ranch in Montana. Robyn says to come on out if I don’t mind her guard dogs in my camp. Jimi will tell you I sure don’t.
Hope to go! Will hail you from the road on a motorcycle, or half of one.
Tony DePaul, July 26, 2018, Cranston, Rhode Island, USA
Peace be with you on your trip. Wandering is a great way to clear your head. I have traded my motorcycle for a 4WD. Largely because I need to get through icy roads in the mountains, dirt roads in the outback, and need to cart gear but you can’t beat the freedom of a motorcycle for the road. Freedom, inspiration and healing on the open road.
-Peace
I wanted to post here: http://www.tonydepaul.net/phantoms-not-dead-yet/ but comments are closed for that thread.
Here is what I was going to post on your other thread:
——————-
The Phantom is a role model who has survived the test of time. I have no doubt The Phantom has influenced many people over that time and has had a positive impact.
I wonder how someone who needs a constant pipeline of story ideas finds inspiration?
Wandering perhaps? Surely many stories exist out there. You come across all kinds.
People in the back alleys of Melbourne AU where art crowds hide and assemble, chased up a tree by the barking dog of the world. Trying to sell organic seeds in the middle of a concrete jungle.
Or maybe a genius mechanical/electrical/software engineer and geologist in the middle of nowhere building and working on ways to get ground water on the periphery of regional NSW; while in the middle of a drought. This place borders the desert; and the desert is growing.
If I was writing I think I would want to write about people and how they should treat each other which is something the Phantom has always done.
If I had to explain this in one line as an elevator pitch I think I would say simply: “Don’t be a prick”.
If I had to go to a paragraph, i’d probably say something like “Don’t conquer, dominate, rule over, think you are better, fight, cause war, compete, be greedy, possessive, manipulative, pursue things of the world, be cruel, unkind or sadistic”. Some might say these are traits found in the archetypes of the four horseman of the apocalypse.
Going further than a paragraph I think the four Gospels say it all and have another figure who has stood the test of time. The greatest peace maker of all time.
Just some thoughts on inspiration and role models. One day I think people will work together in mutual trust and cooperation. Role models, stories and art help us along the way!
Peace be with us.
Did five days of riding in Nicaragua in April after the stuff started hitting the fan. While we did run through some protests, they were all peaceful. Glad Nestor didn’t run into any trouble either.
Good! Daughter #2 and her husband-to-be were there around the same time.
Back in my newspaper days I worked with a guy who had a talent for showing up on the cusp of a revolution. I forget how many countries it happened in. Dave Crombie would disembark off a jet, check into a hotel, all good… In the morning there are tanks in the streets.
Look forward to hearing of your adventures! Shiny side up:-) (or would iron piggy call that Sunny side up?)
So true, Amy! Piggy shed her shine a long time ago. She’s got a whole other kind of beauty now.
Be safe.
Gonna.
After reading your last post Tony my first thought was that you need to get on the bike and ride. Glad to hear that your missus and I agree on that. Come through North Carolina and Pick up my GS. Take it to meet the guys and ride it to Alaska. She needs to be ridden as my job does not allow me to get on it much.
Jeff
Hey, Jeff. A kind offer, especially since I know you’re aware of how hard I am on the rolling stock! Iron piggy and I will shotgun you & the GS to somewhere one of these years. In your off season.
Ride easy, my friend. Soak up the miles and cleanse your soul. Speedweek will be happening Mid-August… just sayin’.
Ooh… you know, that’s a thought if we all turn to pumpkins on August 1. That’s the cutoff date for Alaska. If Nestor’s passport is still lost in space on the 1st this’ll be strictly a lower-48 ride.
It’s August 11-17 this year. Saturday the 11 through the 13 are the best. Field starts thinning on Tuesday.
I’ll say it before anyone else. Vaya con Dios. Or Vaya con Carne. Never can remember which.
Vaya con nachos, gonna need the carbs.