On the 6th of March I got off flight PU401 in Santiago Chile
with the dream and intentions of buying a motorcycle and riding the 10,000 km
back to Jackson. For a couple weeks I mastered the public transport as I looked
for bikes and made daily trips to the ATM. My resolve was tested as I watched a
dog work its way out into traffic only to get smashed and shiver to death.
The
image stuck with me as I test drove bikes, but by Tuesday the 18th I had found
one I thought would do the job and was still committed to the dangerous journey.
That following morning the owner called and told me he couldn’t sell the bike
until the following day due to unexpected meetings. Later that night I got a
call from my father that my mother had almost died in a car accident. I was
informed she had several broken bones, the car was destroyed, but they knew she
was going to be alright because she was still ordering my father around. Relieved
but shaken I went for a long run and ultimately decided against my dream of 11
countries by motorcycle. I struggled with whether I chose not to go due to a
weak will, fear, or justified reasons, but reflecting back I think it was one
of the few wise choices I made on my trip around the world. For a couple weeks
I bummed around, partied, and felt truly unmotivated and lost. Until then I
always had a plane to catch, a brother to meet, or a farm to work on. With no
plan and even less motivation I continuously made and discarded plans for where
to travel and what to see.
I was where everyone wants to be; in and exotic country, 18
years old, in good health, but was immobilized by a lack of direction and
squandered a solid three weeks. During this time I did managed to hop on one of
70 busses that were taking students from Universidad Catolica to the beach. It’s
hard to have a bad time on a beach with 3000 college kids, live music, free
booze and good food. One of my many attempts at getting out of my rut was
applying for a job on cruise ships that often need workers who speak English. I attempted hitchhiking the 150 km to Chile´s major port, Valparaiso. After
receiving about a dozen middle fingers and waiting about 3 hours in the sun
holding up my thumb I threw in the towel and paid the $3 for the bus ride. With
hopes of working my way home on a huge ship I spent two days asking around only
to find out I would have to work for 6 months and start in September.
Disappointed I returned to Santiago and my great friends that were providing me
with food and shelter.
 |
| Hitchhiking in Northern Chile in a Semi that had a top speed of 35. Long 2 hours. |
On the 27th of March I received an email Norm Larson
and Lorna Carson asking if I wanted to be an assistant guide on the Grand
Canyon. I finally had a date and time to be back in the states with something
spectacular to look forward to. This jump started me and on the 28th
I started hitch hiking to toward the north of Chile with plans to later explore
Peru and surf in Costa Rica before heading home.
 |
| The middle of nowhere |
I stopped in Valparaiso for a couple good games of Chilean
soccer and then I continued north to Antofagasta. With the desire to go camping
I hitchhiked north to Iquique. From Iquique my host family willing dropped me off
at a random spot on the side of the road in the driest place in the world for
two nights of self-reflection, photography, and naked frolicking . The time slowed,
water became far more important, and I sat for long hours in the primitive shelter I had
constructed to provide much needed shade. Out of water and thousands of
thoughts later I was picked up and taken back to civilization. Here in Iquique
I have been eating steak, sausages, the best empanadas in the world, and
churros with powdered sugar hot out of the oil. In a couple days I was to head
north to Arica, Chile for a night and then into Peru.
 |
| Epic fail attempting to hitchhike from Santiago to Valparaiso |
 |
| Pointing to my shelter for two nights |
 |
| Headed into the middle of nowhere |
 |
| Telephone worker who picked me up and drove me 3 hours through the desert of Chile |
The
image stuck with me as I test drove bikes, but by Tuesday the 18th I had found
one I thought would do the job and was still committed to the dangerous journey.
That following morning the owner called and told me he couldn’t sell the bike
until the following day due to unexpected meetings. Later that night I got a
call from my father that my mother had almost died in a car accident. I was
informed she had several broken bones, the car was destroyed, but they knew she
was going to be alright because she was still ordering my father around. Relieved
but shaken I went for a long run and ultimately decided against my dream of 11
countries by motorcycle. I struggled with whether I chose not to go due to a
weak will, fear, or justified reasons, but reflecting back I think it was one
of the few wise choices I made on my trip around the world. For a couple weeks
I bummed around, partied, and felt truly unmotivated and lost. Until then I
always had a plane to catch, a brother to meet, or a farm to work on. With no
plan and even less motivation I continuously made and discarded plans for where
to travel and what to see. 
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