Oki is grateful

Lessons from the rain

When the rain starts the internet goes out, and often takes with it the electricity. This keeps me on my toes as to how often I can stock up on fresh fruits and veggies. In return, this small inconvenience has taught me to plan my meals and choose my produce accordingly. The tupperware containers in the bathroom and kitchen sink remind me that the water I use comes from a cement space the size of a walk-in closet under the yard that has to be filled. Water scarcity has put a smile on my face, because the morning after a rainstorm when the electricity has gone out and the refrigerator is getting warm, I can go out and collect what the buckets have captured and feel a sense of calm and gratitude for the cycles of nature.

Gratitude

Gratitude is fascinating. At times I only acknowledged as that sliver of a feeling that comes along with satisfaction and happiness. Lately though, I have come to realize that the tranquility I feel as I retreat to my temporary home in Las Juntas when the rain clouds start to swell, has more to do with what I don’t have, than what I do. In other words, the peace of mind that lets me sleep is due to someone else’s selfless nature. For example, the sense of panic and fear that developed inside me as I read the possible side affects of rabies was calmed when I discovered that the government of Mexico extends the same life saving vaccines to visitors passing through as it does to its people at no cost. The situation dosn’t even have to be that dire. Take for example the many roofs I have been extended in Paulsbo, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles and Huntington Beach. Even here in Mexico the span of hospitality has been a beautifully furnished condo in Puerto Vallarta to the living room floor of an incredibly giving family in Esquinapa who had me in tears the next morning when it was time to say goodbye. For a few of you, it was the time we shared in conversation or in passing, convinced you that my character and this adventure deserved the merit of your financial support or the donation of your services. This overwhelming feeling of gratitude coming from inside of me requires some sort of recognition. I know it, because I felt it just recently when I was back on my bike for the first time since nearly two weeks, riding with traffic in the streets of Guadalajara feeling complete once again.

In return

It is to you, my community of friends, family, businesses and strangers from the road that I am grateful for. The kindness of your actions continues to fuel me to complete this pilgrimage. So as I prepare to set out in the midst of monsoon season, I wanted to extend to you all a gift for your support. Along this journey, I have carried a camera that has allowed me to document and capture the places and people I have come across. Upon completing my voyage and returning to Alaska, I will compile a group of images from which you can choose. The memories, stories and the people and places I have encountered will be made available to you in the form of a limited edition  archival print.
A special thanks goes out to my partner in life and my wife-to-be Laura, for believing in me and handling the costs of getting my filmed developed. To the awesomely real crew of my favorite local photo lab in Alaska, Kellers, who has been digitizing my film. And to you my rockin Alaskan community of photographers and again to Kellers, for the many sweet rolls of film you sent down so that I can continue to feed my addiction, thank you. Last but not least, to Dropbox for believing in the freemium model of business, which has allowed me to obtain my images anywhere on the road and share the beauty of analog photography, and to those of you who have shared the wealth of your social capital by sharing my links and stories with others. Thank you all!!

Closing thoughts

That said, I leave you with the most recent depictions and events from the life of a thankful nomadic cyclist named Oki.
By Oki on July 5, 2010 | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Oki Proposes

Night 1
Laura and I left Puerto Vallarta relatively early. It was another clear sky day but the sun’s intensity was no real challenge for the short 35km ride to el pueblo of Las Palmas. Just as the sun hit high noon, we had put the bikes to rest in the shade and began to prepare to eat our simple lunch of black bean soup with tortillas. After lunch we took off to the town plaza through cobblestone rock streets that rattled the bikes’ fenders. Here we made a few portraits and met an elderly man Roberto, who had previously worked in Alaska as a fisherman. We spent a great part of our time there under the shade of a tree till we set out to find our place for the night. Taking into account the advice of some locals, we headed to the dry river bed of a small creek that ran along the town. It was here that we swam and cooked dinner as a nomadic cyclist couple for the first time. With Laura’s incredible mental glossary of recipes to pull from, we prepared a Mexican-Alaskan pasta with Poblano peppers for dinner. The bits of smoked salmon that my mom sent along with Laura complemented the Poblano chiles to create a perfect blend of smokey pasta cooked over an open fire. That night we slept with the moons light coming through the tent screen wall I knew that this mini tour to Guadlajara would be a good challenge for us as a couple.

Night 2
It was a gruelling 5-hour climb to the town of Estancia. I knew when I was planning our course that this would be the toughest day of our trip. Little did I know how absurd the climbing would be. It didn´t help that we also got behind and started our morning off later than planned. Just like any other couple, we bickered at one another as to how we each played a role in the sun’s rays beating against us as we began our ascent. Yet it was Laura’s strength and constant push that helped me keep a decent pace so as not find ourselves riding at the hottest hours of the day. I remember watching Laura take off up the hill after another sunblock break and thought, ¨That is the kind of woman I want with me in life.¨ All in all we climbed nearly 3k feet that day to arrive in the town of Estancia where we simply collapsed on the sidewalk under the shade of a tree next to a tienda. We ate the leftovers from the previous night’s pasta and shared a massive orange and coconut water. Food had never tasted so amazing, as Laura experienced first hand how constant exercise and being deprived of food makes any tiny morsel of food an incredible delicacy. As if climbing for 5 hours in the hot sun wasn’t enough, Laura and I began to see the toll the tiny little bugs had taken on our legs and ankles from our river bed camping spot. With my ankles swollen from the barrage of these tiny little bites, I looked over at Laura’s legs to see the back of her thighs dotted with the same red sores. That night we went in and out of sleep as we tried to ignore the symphony of sounds at the town plaza with kids’ laughter, cell phones blaring a mix of American and Mexican music and stray dogs barking. I was beginning to understand how much Laura has to put up with chaffing, bug bites and little sleep.
Night 3
 Not wanting to make the same mistake twice of sleeping in, Laura and I woke up at 5:30AM with dark sky and a few stars still visible. The sun’s rays had just begun to seperate the mountain range ahead of us as we started our little MSR stove to make coffee and oatmeal. By 7AM we were packed and ready to go with only one problem. The public bathroom we were counting had been locked at some point in the night. Without hesitation we took off to get out of town, shortly thereafter (and I mean shortly!) we stopped to take care of our business. This isn´t necessarily one of the qualities I would have listed in a potential partner, but I do greatly admire how Laura puts to rest the stereotype that it´s harder and therefore takes longer for women to use the great outdoors bathroom. We climbed till nearly 11AM at a much faster rate and with good conversation, which is key for making time go by. As we started our descent from the top at just over 6k feet I had a constant loop of fear in my mind for Laura. My fear disappeared after watching her descend on the next big downhill, as I witnessed the same dexterity and control as when she invited me to go mountain biking back in Alaska. The remaining 12km or so to the town of Mascota were an easy flat straight course that we completed within half an hour as Laura pointed out the many odd mis-spellings on the signs along the highway.
Arriving in Mascota I finally understood how serious Laura´s chaffing had become. It was no slightly red sore chaffing like I had experienced in the Northwest. Instead it was two swollen red sores with a blister on each cheek the size of a jolly rancher candy and a surounding area that looked like road rash. With my swollen ankles and Laura’s chaffed bottom we decided to stay an extra day in Mascota so as to give our bodies a break in order to heal somewhat. After telling our story of how we came to arrive by bikes to the very curious town people of Mascota, we set out to find the lake “just 3km” out of town. Unfortunately, we took on these last few climbing kilometers fully loaded with food and water with the intense evening sun ruthlessly coming down on us. I remeber how frustrated Laura was as she climbed with a full 10L water bladder up the dirt road after an approaching vehicle honked at us to get to one side. Bathing at the lake with the sun’s heat diminishing into the evening was a real treat after the hot dusty climb. That night we had another amazing dinner with fresh cuts of beef thigh from the plaza butcher in our tortilla soup. It was also another typical night in the sense that as soon as we arrived, the two restaurants below were blaring Norteños. By 10PM Laura, feeling sore, bitten and chaffed, had had enough. We walked together hand-in-hand to ask the restuant patrons when the music would end. Slightly mocking us, an employee responded that it might not ever end. Defeated by the group of inconsiderate restaurant workers and friends who were fairly well intoxicated, we returned to our humble little tent on the hill to try to catch some sleep.

Night 4
After washing our laundry by hand and setting it out to dry, we decided not to test our luck on another potential sleepless night. Heading back towards Mascota, we planned our night of rest to be at the river that was just out of town. After arriving, Laura stayed to set up base camp as I took off into town to pick up some breakfast food and snacks for the next few days on the road. When I returned, Laura was in her brazillian bikini playing in the river with two local kids, Sergio and Cristian. The two were brothers, ¨Chayoteros,¨ as they called themselves after the vegetable their family grew. They had become fond of Laura as she taught them all about our tent and stove. Laura and I swam in the fairly still river, jumping off rocks and playing with the kids. After our swim, the two brothers followed us back to camp where again they fired off a number of questions about our stove, tent and cameras. Watching Laura go into teacher mode has to be one of my favorite parts about her. She is as playful as she is serious. Feeling refreshed from our river swim we slept better, but still the Norteños played somewhere in the distance from the trunk of another decked out ride.

Night 5
Didn´t happen as planned. We did make our goal of riding to Anteguillo 45km away after what was a fairly challenging day of continuous climbing, but not the treturous climbing of day two. Once again, we started off a bit later than expected, beginning our day with a much longer, steeper climb than anticipated. Soon thereafter we found ourselves once again racing to get out of the sun’s heat rays in the noonish hours. By 1:30PM we had pushed long enough and decided to eat a respectable lunch because we had been snacking on what was supposed to be our lunch for the day. We found shelter at the top of the hill just as the descent into another valley was within sight. The day’s special was cow heart in an amazing sauce served with beans and hand-made tortillas. Lunch was served with two lukewarm glasses of Coca-Cola as we once again devoured food just as soon as it had been put in front of us. The lady whose house it was came over twice to refill our tortilla pile and would as usual tell the mangy looking husky dog that was under the table across to shew away. After finishing lunch, Laura was feeling sleepy and asked me if I would help her set up a place to sleep. Looking around at the dirty couches covered in dust from the road, I thought it would be wise to place my Z-rest mattress atop as a barrier from the filth and potential fleas. I stood up, walked over and began to shake out my dry bag’s contents to get out the mattress when I felt a quick, short sting in my left calf. Looking back, I saw two puncture holes and the mangy husky dog behind me.

Two days after the incident we had finally found out that the Secretary of Health was the only place to recieve the vaccine.

Rabies Scare
After cleaning the wounds with the aid of the woman and her husband, it was discovered that the dog had not been vaccinated. Furthermore, the dog had previously bitten another woman and showed evidence of wounds around its neck from what may have been a previous attack. The wounds around the dog’s neck and the knowledge that coyotes existed in the area gave me a strong indication that the dog was likely to have been exposed to rabies through some sort of attack. Not wanting to take my chances on being wrong, we darted off down the hill to complete the remaining 15km to arrive in the town of Anteguillo. It was just as we began to descend that I felt with absolute certainty that no matter what happened by the end of that day, I was going to propose to Laura. I don´t know if was a state of fear for my life or the simple sense of urgency with the complication at hand, but I knew for certain that this change in events would be the proof that I needed to know that Laura was to be the partner I would share my life with.

Broken Systems
The three hour bus ride to Guadalajara from Anteguillo went by slowly. I passed the time reading a New Yorker article about Los Tigres del Norte, a  popular music group known for their lengthy performances of the classic norteño music. My first introduction to this group was through Laura who gifted me one of their emotional songs about the mixed blessings of being an undocumented worker in the United States. whose simple melodies and clear story telling have begun to captivate me. As we approached Guadalajara, the freeways and constant traffic of a city of 7 million was overwhelming. I was glad we had arrived by bus. With the bus parked at the station, I hustled to unload the gear from below as Laura discussed the logistics of how to get to the hospital with a few people who were also onboard. The plan was to find the nearest hotel to drop off the gear and head out to the major hospital downtown. With the bikes packed, fenders rubbing and squeeling brake pads from the mis alignment after being squished under the bus for storage, we peddaled to the first respectable-looking hotel across from the station.
Once inside the hotel bedroom, we were in and out like a pit crew with a few snacks packed and a fresh change of cloths. Our arrival at the hospital was no real assurance with the entire building surounded by a green fence. After finding the entrance we were told that I could not be attended there because I had to be a Mexican citizen. We were pointed towards another hospital in the area that served all people, including the un-insured.
The New Civilian Hospital, as it was known, was no help either because they had no vaccines on hand. With a referal phone number on a scrap of paper for the Green Cross who handles all toxology-related cases, we set out to find a public phone. After a few mis-dials I was able to reach the Green Cross, only to learn out they too did not have the vaccine on hand. Furious at this point, I asked where I should go, since the two previous hospitals had nothing. They gave me the phone number for the Red Cross, which ended up being incorrect. All the while I was dialing, Laura was thumbing through the phone book jotting down phone numbers for medical that I might also try. After a fury of dialing the Red Cross and a few other private hospitals, the answer was unanimous: nowhere in Guadalajara existed the anti-rabies vaccine. Even the 911 equivalent had no other resources as to where to find it.

Fleas in my bed
Defeated and frustrated, we caught the last bus that brought us partially back to our hotel. Walking the remaining distance hand-in-hand with Laura, I was thankful that I was in a major city with my partner who had been at my side supporting me all along. Now back at the hotel, we joked about how we would finally get a good nights rest and be able to start our second day of hunting for the vaccine. After taking a brisk shower together, Laura insisted she was being bit by something that she could not see. Not believing her, I asked her to show me some sort of evidence of the creature responsible for her bites. After I took the tiny black speck into the bathroom to study it under better light, it appeared not to move. Using my thumb nails to squish the black speck, I felt its tiny exoskeleton frame finally squish under a great amount of preassure. Once again, there I was repacking and prepping the bikes as Laura delt with getting her money back and lining up the logistics of how we would get to Arqui’s house clear across town. Its because of Arqui, our mutual friend back in Alaska who grew up in Guadalajara, that we would finally have some sort of respectable nights sleep.

Cramming
Enrique, Arqui’s good friend, pulled up outside the hotel with a tiny 4-door sedan. After a quick introduction and a brief joke about how our day has been, we began the meticulous, free hand process of trying to fit two bikes with gear and three people into the same car. With few modifications to Enrique’s after-market sound system, and rear passenger’s window half-way down, we were on our way through the now quiet streets of Guadalajara. After driving clear across town to the Southeast industrial side, we pulled up to the house on a dirt road with no name. Enrique got to wake-up Moises, Arqui’s youngest brother, who was dressed in his white bathrobe and slippers. With a little team work and the quick use of a multi-tool, we had all the gear and bikes out of the car and upstairs where Laura and I would stay.

Proposal
After the good nights and thank yous were said, we were left alone in silence after what had felt like a never ending barrage of tasks needing attention through the course of our long day. It was there, outside on the porch in the moonlight as we helped to undress one another so as not to contaminate our new home with fleas that I remembered the ring I had made for Laura. I went inside and grabbed the ring, returning quickly to kiss a now fully-naked Laura in the moonlight. Fumbling my words, I thanked Laura for her strength and told her how much I admired her ability to put up with the inconveniences and yet still stay optimistic throughout the day. It was then that I dropped down to my knees with the ring in my right hand and slipped it onto Laura’s finger. With tears in my eyes and my voice shaky from emotion I asked Laura if she would marry me. After an emotional yes, we kissed and embraced as we prepared for bed with not a single Norteño to be heard.

By Oki on June 5, 2010 | Posted in Mexico | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Oki loves

I love many things in life. But after having had ridden more than 5k on bike i begin to realize what it is that i truly love and what it is that just gets me happy.

For example I don´t care for a beer. After a long day. Instead i look for the closest fruteria and buy a mango. I save the beer for an occasion when im prepping a hearty dinner so i can enjoy it as i prep all the peices of a fine meal over the MSR stove.

Cold showers. I crave this sooo much more now that we are in humid mainland Mexico.  Night time is the only time of the day that i can tell when my body is not part of the hot air. Im dont need no stinkin hot water, give me a bucket of cold water and a bowl.

Sailing! I am in love with sailing. Its like riding your bike down hill with the forces of nature to ur advantage. Its that rumble high you get if youve ever skated on a long board down a graudual hill. Sailing gives me a rush of power because the hustle needed to harness the wind. It is also incredibly rewarding to see your physical efforts take effect. I desperatley need to find a sailing community in AK when i get back.

Simplicity. Life truly is what you make it. I have seen evidence of this time and time again with the people and experiences I encounter. I witnessed it two nights ago when I stayed in the  humble beautiful home of Manuel and Feliz.

Photos to come. please be patient :)

By Oki on May 9, 2010 | Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Oki is learning to budget

Dear family, friends and followers, this full re-cap is best enjoyed with a delightful beverage of your choice and a free schedule. Please excuse the grammatical and spelling errors as internet access has become more of a marathon than a leisurly activity.

Preparing for our only brief encounter with rain while in route to Ensenada, Baja California Photo: Erika Avellaneda-Celis

Tiajuana -> Ensenada

Erika and I climbed out of Tiajuana and rode all down hill Rosarito on March 21st. where we set up camp on the beach. I slept decently Okay, but to be honest I was still a little weary about sleeping in urban public places so I found myself up at 4AM. Since then I mellowed out immensley because I have come to realize 99% of the Mexican population is no different than your average American going about their daily life. The problem is media loves to hype bad news and create drama.

Ensenada -> Catavina

We had a really awesome time riding to Ensenada where we stayed at the “Casa de Cyclistas” as it has come to be known. It is a little private apartment that is available (upon 1 week notice) to traveling cyclists who pass through. It is watched over by an awesome elderly couple Herrardo & Delia who still walk the streets holding hands just as if they were young lovers. We stayed here for two days and got our selves ready to head out to the desert by bus. Now typically this would not be the case, but Erika and i decided to fast-forward and take a bus out to the beggining of the desert. We did this based on 1) the advice of  Gabriel Shimomotoan, a cyclist and geniunely caring member of the Ensenada community, who is in charge of promoting tourism for the State of Baja California 2) being slightly behing schedule for our projected arrival to La Paz in order to meet with my friend and sister’s boyfriend Rodrigo. From what I could see from the bus window, I was a glad we did not ride this portion of our journey by bike. The treturous turns and cliffs on the two lane road that climbed out of Ensenda with truckers carrying farmed produce and pushy bus drivers was enough to cause any driver or cyclist into white-knuckle syndrome. On that note, to be completely fair, the truckers in Baja are no real danger to cyclists. They are incredibly aware and careful while taking turns because they are very familiar with how challenging the highway 1 can be. The real problem comes into play when you have motorists and buses who drive as though they are entitled to the entire lane and have no issue with passing on blind turns and up hills. I can’t count how many times Erika and I have had to pull over because on coming traffic was in our lane trying to overtake another vehicle. If you are thinking about riding Baja a side view mirror is a MUST!

Catavina -> Guerrero Negro

The bus let us off at around mid-night in Catavina as it is known to the tourists, or Rancho San Ignes to the locals. We set up camp behind the little resort and started out the next day a litle bit too late in the morning. See the trick to survivng a ride through the desert is to get up early.

Day one is the desert just about pack to leave Catavina. The whistle around my neck helps make my presence known amongst agressive traffic. Photo: Erika Avellaneda-Celis

Well, Erika and I like to learn things the hard way so the first few days where treturously hot and long. The desert landscape isn’t all that exciting and after a few days of long straight flat stretches with the same scenery. In facr you go into a time warp and forget which day of the week it is. The best part though about riding through the desert is camping in it. Especially near the turn of a full moon. Ever since southern Oregon, I have developed a nightly ritual of looking up at the stars and sleeping with my head pointing north. At first it started just with the desire of wanting to know which direction was North. I did this by looking for the last two stars of the Big Dipper that point towards the North Star. After a while I found myslef contemplating what it means to be under the same set of constelations that I could see back home in Alaska. I would think in my love Laura as I wished her a goodnight on the many nights I had no access to a phone. After 4 days of riding through the desert, three flat tires within two days; I arrived in Guerrero Negro, the first major city of Southern Baja California slightly sun-burnt and dirty as hell.

Guerrero Negro -> San Ignacio

Photo: Erika Avellaneda-Celis

Before prepping to do another stretch of the desert, Erika and I took care of some much needed bike maintnance and I got to do little bit of street photography. This was my first real opportunity to set out on foot and just watch life happen as the sun crept into the horizon taking with it the some of the most amazing shadows. From Guerrero Negro, Erika and I set out a 7:30 AM on March 29th on another full-moon attempt to break our previous record for total milage done in one day. Little did we know how incredibly hard and full filling this push would be. By 11Am we had a third member on our team. Fausto Irriate, a Mexican cyclist from Morelia on his 2nd tour.  After  80 km of riding ,we shared a filling lunch of soup, tortillas, beans, guacamole,  fruits and a beer; all in the shade of a Pemex gast station  in Vizcaino. We left the gas station around 12:30 just as you really start feeling the sun against your skin. The three of us pushed on till we could no longer keep a decent pace and pulled over to take a nap. I slept under the shade of a cactus while Erika slept under the bridge. Fausto was just an stones throw away under a tree. I have nerver slept so well or felt so refreshed as drank the tea-hot water from my black MSR water bladder. We laid low for about 1.5hrs hours and decided to keep trucking. The last 20km of this day where a big tease as the landscape tricked us into thinking that the oasis of San Ignacio was just over another hill.

Imagine riding 9-hours in the sun for 150km in one day! That is our friend Fausto in the back. Photo: Erika Avellaneda-Celis

Even the locals contributed to the confusion as they responded to our question of how much further, with ¨otros cinco kilometros¨, another 5 km, over a stretch of 20km. By the time we caught sight of the military check point that was some 2km from the oasis of San Ignacio the sun felt like nothing more than just a distant light source about to dip behind the horizon. We stayed at the Petates camp ground that sits just at the base of the still river. Upon arriving I immediatley took off my jersey and shoes and jumped into the water with my bike shorts sill on, I had never been able to experince the senastion of osmosis so well. It was that same full moon night after pedaling for 150km, that we formed our mini-tribe of cyclists and friends for life. We were a total of five: Anthony Musick from Southern CA, Pasquel the German, Fausto Irriarte from Morelia and Erika and I the Colombian-Alaskans.

San Ignacio -> Conception Bay

Reading Willie hensley´s memoir with the portrait I made of him on the cover always made me feel proud. Photo: Erika Avellaneda-Celis

We played and explored San Ignacio. We shared stories of cycling adventures and the lessons we have learned from life over Tecate beers around the fire as my Hasselblad pointed to the Northern sky jsut a few meters away capturing our existance. The following day I made portraits of the crew, and even re-created an image with the help of Erika who took the photo. The image (soon to come) was a spoof of an image of Ron who we stayed with while in Cambria, CA who at the age of 18 in the 1960’s had crossed Baja with his friends on horse back before the paved road existed. In Ron’s photo, his horse drinks water from the oasis of SanIgnacio, as he sits high with no shirt in his jeans with the near-noon sun glaring into his eyes. My version of the photo has a bike in place of the horse as I sit high on  my bike i my bike shorts. Stoked! Can´t wait to get the film back!!!

We left San Ignacio two days later with the goal of being within sight of the Sea of Cortez and Conception Bay. We made a quick pit stop in Mulege,  a small town just 20km away from the water. After picking up our food for the weekend I headed off to the internet cafe to fire off some emails and to confirm a work/stay in Puerto Vallarta. Not 5 min. into the computer-web-sesh. an American traveling by motorcycle came in asking to whom the two Surly Long Haul Trckers (our bikes) belonged to. Upon responding the American pointed out that he remebered meeting us back in Oregon in a town that I didn´t recall at the moment nor can I even now.

After leaving the cafe I went to find a much needed public phone so i could hear the voice of my long distance love and future partner in life (yep that means wife!) Laura. Before dialing home I made a group photo with the Hassie of a volunteer fire crew and their engine. Speaking to Laura made me realize how much I had missed while I was away in the desert. One of the qualities I love most about Laura is her strength and ability to endure.  Unfortuanately life had handed her a difficult two weeks and she was in need of love and comfort. Im sorry and wish I could have been there to hold you mi amor.

In Conception Bay one of the first beaches we stayed at was Playa Burro, were we found ourselves setting up our tents just inches away from our neighbors. The reason for the huge turn out was Semana Santa (Holy Week). It was incredibly beautiful to see families with their kids and friends and their public displays of affection. Both Erika and I noted how drastically different this is compared to public places in the US. All in all our weekend became a game of shuffle where we packed up the next day in the hopes to find the less crowded beach of El Caracol at the end of the Bay. Instead we found ourselves in the howling wind and not so pretty water for swimming. None the less it was a very enjoyable night as I had plenty of time to read Willie Hensley´s memoir before sunset. By nightfal we had even made friends with a Carlos and his family who were from the town just south where we camped called Loreto. Over a cup of hot chocolate, Carlos shared stories of his youth sleeping in the desert and some pretty interesting rattle snake remedies for curing scares.

The next morning we trucked back 35km to Playa Requeson where we stayed and enjoyed snorkeling and swimming. We even  hitch hiked back to the town of Mulege to pick up some groceries! This was a new experience for Erika and I. We weren´t to sure how it would work, but I am proud say it was incredibly easy.

Conception Bay -> Loreto and currently La Paz.

Loreto is south of Conception Bay and became the awakening point for me on many levels. It was here while staying at a RV park that I had a breif panic attack about my financial situation which had me convinced I had to call the trip quits. My mind has a tendancy to go on the fritz if I am unaware of the cause but concious of their consequences. In this example I basicly found myself almost out of cash on hand and still 4-5 days away from La Paz which represented my goal for budgeting the funds i withdrew since leaving Tiajuana. My mind raced as I panicked about how if at all possible would I be able to pay my bills back at home and keep on trucking on if i couldn´t see where my 2,800 some odd pesos had gone to. Erika helped me realize that what i needed to do was just sit down and re-asses my finacial situation. I did this while at the library and have since decided re-structured to live on a new budget of $5 a day rather than the original $10.  I am happy to say that since implementing this budget and tracking my finances I was able to reach La Paz with what few extra pesos. I even keep an on going paper tally  which has actually been really handy and even balanced! If you had had as crappy economics teacher as I did in high school you would be thrilled too to finally make sense of it all.

But before arriving to La Paz and meeting my financial goal, I had a profound emotional growth happen while at the beach of Lugui. As I lay in the shade of the palapa (palm tree beach shelter) finishing Willie Hensley´s memoir. My eyes began to fill with tears. It happened as I read about Willie´s realization that the Iñuit people had never had the strengths of their culture acknowldged. At that moment I too recalled the experiences and people through out my journey that have been affirming my identity as a talented and able Latino Male Immigrant. An identity I had partially denied through out my life due to the negative stereotypes and sayings i had heard of people like my working class parents. In the end, I found myslef identifying with some of the core strengths that have been deeply embedded in generations of Iñuit and allowed their culture and people to thrive in land were few even dared to visit.

Starting this tour I knew that I would be a entirely differrent person by the end of it. My body has become physically conditioned to ride longer and faster in a diverse range of environments. I have begun to teach myself through patience to read, write and speak my first language of spanish in public libraries with the help of childrens books and spanish literature. And now, I track daily my expenses and plan for my meals and entertainment on a budget that allows me to truely know what it is that i consider to be of value. The best thing about all of this is that I am just shy of a third of the way to my destination of Bogota, Colombia!

By Oki on April 14, 2010 | Posted in Mexico | Tagged | 2 Comments

Oki is off to Mexico

Oki. PHOTO: Laura Norton-Cruz

Enjoy the photos and video.

I tell my stories through photo captions. To read captions click on the photos.

By Oki on March 20, 2010 | Posted in California | 3 Comments

Oki Celebrates Women and His Hispanic Culture

By Oki on March 8, 2010 | Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Oki has arrived in the city of the Oscars

enjoy and my apologies for the delay.

By Oki on March 3, 2010 | Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Oki is a machine!

Crossing Deception Pass in WA.

It’s Monday and Erika and I are one day away from California. Yesterday and today will be our two longest days yet. We left Bandon at 8am and landed in Gold beach (69 miles later) at 430pm. It was amazing to be along the coast. My top speed down hill was 36mph!! We also ran into Ian, a Australian who had just been swiped off the road by a car. He was lucky, unfortunately his bike was not. To date we have only met two cyclists on this trip. I pass the time on the bike making sounds at cattle and at times to myslef. I think about AK and the things I want to accomplish when i return. I also count bananas peels, orange peels and apple cores. Erika keeps pushing me, and I do the same. We just finished our oats breaky and had a cup of hot chocolate. Although i dearly miss coffee. So with breakfast complete, it’s now time to pack the tent and gear and head towards the Redwoods. STOKED! :) Also my iPhone is semi functioning again now that it has it’s backlight,. however still no camera :(

By Oki on February 8, 2010 | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Oki is gonna miss Sir William


William Tuovinen

Originally uploaded by okiave

Our friend Will has decided to continue exploring and developing his photography portfolio without the bike. 2010 is a year of discovery and analysis of what we each want out of life. I applaud and encourage Sir Will to continue doing so. You will be missed.

By Oki on January 31, 2010 | Posted in Uncategorized, Washington | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Oki is in love

Today represents the 8 month anniversay (monthaversary?) for me and Laura. I am so happy :) Te amo mi amor.

By Oki on January 23, 2010 | Posted in Alaska | Tagged | 1 Comment

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