As of today, I've been on the road for exactly one year. Twelve months of living out of a suitcase, and one thing overwhelmingly strikes me: I've really gotta do my laundry...
Thanks to my hosts over the last year: Anthony and Fernando, Carol and Peggy, Ceci, Felix and Tamatha, Jolea and Ray, Judy, Karen, Matt and Kitty, Phil, Sungmi, Tiffany and Al, Thomas. Did I miss anybody?
Some highs and lows from a year of traveling:
Best spot to sleep outdoors: Lodgepole campground, Sequoia National Forest, as long as don't mind brown bears for alarm clocks.
Best spot to sleep indoors: Tiffany and Al's guest bedroom. Quiet, separate, clean, luxurious. It's nice to have a doctor in the family.
Worst place to sleep, indoors or out: the Santa Monica Youth Hostel, in the ten-bunk room. The smells, the sounds, overwhelming. Not to mention getting your stuff ripped off; not to mention getting your computer hacked and your motorcycle fucked with. Double the price of all the other American Youth Hostels: welcome to LA.
Most beautiful scenery: Too many to list in a year of traveling. Two strike me right now: The mountains surrounding Quito, Ecuador awe me every day. The view from the top of the Continental Divide in southern Colorado will be with me forever.
Most heartbreaking scene: A tie between the wildfire devastation in eastern Arizona and little caged dogs in Guadalajara: dogfarmers regularly patrolled the streets with ten to twenty puppies in a cage. Most of the time, not enough room for the pups to stand up.
Most heartbreaking scene, honorable mention: Opening the door to the trailer, my home for the next month, in Nara Visa, New Mexico.
Best place to drive a motorcycle long-distance: The Cuota (toll-road) throughout Mexico. Clean, smooth, straight, mostly empty. My kind of road. Worth every peso.
Worst place to drive long-distance: through the towns and villages of Mexico on the non-toll roads: pitted, crowded, poorly maintained and full of speedbumps, some of them unmarked, some of them so tall that you're guaranteed to bottom out. Often next to muffler repair shops.
Worst city to drive in: Phoenix, Arizona, home of the no-look, signal-free triple lane change. Home of the driver who thought it would be funny to open his car door in order to clip a motorcycle. Vehicular homicide, always good for a chuckle.
Best town to leave your keys in your motorcycle: Mazamitla, Mexico, where they assign a boy to guard your bike until you return.
Best place to fall off your motorcycle: Anywhere in Mexico, where the bombaderos will perform first-aid on the spot at no cost, no tipping allowed.
Longest trip I've ever taken on two or four wheels: 8000 miles from San Francisco through central Mexico, and then back to Texas, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. Long live Suzuki!
Most fun four-day weekend: Trip to Puerto Vallarta with my schoolmates Emily, Luke, Matt, and Alain.
Best moment on that trip: Frisbee on the beach, natch!
Worst moment on that trip: Paying $18 to the local police for the privilege of urinating.
Least missed: Top of my head, I can't think of anything I don't miss about San Francisco. H's cigars, I guess. The ambulances coming and going outside of Sungmi's apartment.
Most missed: Well, now that it's in storage in Tucson, I miss my bike. But I miss everything and everyone in San Francisco. I miss Sungmi. I miss Midnight, who I will never see again.
So we ended on the most maudlin subjects. Sorry about that. On the positive side, I expect to have a first draft of my thesis project within the month, and the whole thing wrapped up in October or November. So I'm coming home soon, after Peru and Brazil and maybe Argentina.
See you every day in my thoughts, soon in real life.
Love from Ecuador, Douglas the Vagabond
