Let's Try this again

So yeah I took a little break and whether I was actively pursuing anything or not some things happened in there.  In an effort to bring this blog, myself, and anyone else who gives a damn up to speed here we go.  The movement was always going to be gradual as the evolution of this trip will inevitably be a process of weeks, months and years, not hours and days.

Fear not though, it adds up.  The hours, days, and weeks that constitute the past 3 or so months are definitely not lost to the oblivion of blurred together memories and experiences.  No they're just adding up to something bigger in a way only time allows.  In fact that's precisely why I believe a few months away from writing were necessary: the bigger picture needs time to unfold, to grow into it's own being.  The list of gangsta ass events and tall tales I've no need to exagerate is certainly long and grows by the day.  

Possibly one of the most pointed lessons I've learned from a purely function standpoint is coming to understand why people on motorcycle tours stick to simply riping their moto and getting by.  That alone really does require almost all of your energy and attention day in a day out.  Blending it with what started as a mountain bike rip morphed into a surf rip all on a moto rip has proven to be a nearly indescribable bag of worms I couldn't have planned if I tried.  Rest assured the mtn bike shred and the surf have provided far more stoke than not, but F does it complicate some days/moments .  Starting your moto days  exhausted/sun burned/dehydrated from surfing (and some beers) adds an element that some may argue is simply unecessary.  Needless to say I don't agree... but I see their point.  Striking a balance has been a process in itself but one I'm getting a wrangle on.  And of course the two are as directly correlated as you would imagine; if the surf is good the moto progress is slow or nonexistent, if the waves are shit we hit the road.

So gearing the trip to account for the needs of Rita and the needs of surfing, biking, drinking Will has made for an entertaining tug of war.  Day-to-day the dust will settle and a third, more important aspect emerges.  The world turns too fast, the moto is too engaging, and the surf sessions too long.  The third part has been the hardest to grapple with, certainly when it comes to putting pen to paper.  So occasionally I have to just Stop it.  Stop the moto.  Stop the surf.  Don't necessairly stop the beer drinking, that's part of everthing.  Stop the pace that you willingly/unwillingly had ingrained in you from birth.  Stop and smell the fucking Roses man.  Stop and smell the food that old lady is cooking, smell the landfill, the diesel exhaust, the bakery, the rotten animal carcas, the spell binding perfumes, the suffocating colognes, taste the wind-blown sand in your teeth, feel the oil soaking through your boots, relive the short but meaningful friendships, see the fisherman that has dialed his craft to visual poetry, see those eyes and that smile from a truck driver so far from home.  Engage in as many verbal and non-verbal conversations as you can contain without that blurring effect I've talked of.  Take part in any and all that might effect the kind of imperceptible, incremental change that is the basis of this endeavor.  Let the building blocks of this journey assemble.  It sounds easier than it really is.  Surfing and biking and drinking and ripping a motorcycle around is fucking fun man, don't judge me.

And so it goes, getting all of the conversations and engagements that make up these most important moments down on paper should be but isn't a priority.  I just can't bring myself to take away from the moment itself and put it all in review via documentation, it takes away from the "flow" of the game. (Think NFL instant replay BS) Instead those anecdotes will live as part of a bigger project on the scale of directing a life toward a greater understanding of what is good, possible, and worthy.  Guiding a compass as the collective mass that only the strength of experience itself is powerful enough to steer.  It boils down to a 5 hour immigration line shared with Venzualan immigrant families at the Colombia/Ecuador broder, the legendary stories of Italo in Santa Catalina, volleyball with those families in Peru, the despair of that homosexual man in Turbo, the old women waitin patiently on the beaches of Peru for seaweed to wash ashore, Cocaine fueled last nights with a first rate crew in the San Blas, trading stories and waves with new friends from Foco, talking tourism and education in rural Colombian pueblos, 7 hours of roadside repairs that day in Panama, and that flower. 

So there's a wave in North Colombia that I need to get back to.  There's a mtn bike race scene and friends calling me back to Mexico.  Friends and waves I need a lot more time with in CR.  A five man boat crew I owe beers to on the Caribbean coast.  A list a mile f'ing long of places I missed that I will proabbly never see.  A community in Fort Collins that is onto something special the likes of which I haven't seen replicated, not even close.  And of course my family back in the states that, contrary to popular belief, I think I need more than they need me.

That's what I know so far.  

The problem is that when it's struck against what I DON'T know so far it forms such a small piece of the pie that the shear size of the unknown begs discovery.  And so we continue, Rita and I, toward the dark with the light of our energy and an open mind to lead the way.  One eye on the past and a heart full of confidence as foundation, fuel, and security for the future.

So I'll stay here in Chala one more day because there's a motocross race on the beach, cold beer, and waves.  (and a hot shower, comfortable bed, WiFi, breakfast, tabd) And then we're off to Chile and points south.  I love how everyday feels like the beginning.  Like little kid excited when I type this shit....

All love you guys!

-Will

PS- Apologies for any and all spelling errors, grammar etc...  I'm typing this shit on my phone now.  The computer I had died in Panama and has yet to be replaced.  Also a reason nothing has been written in months.  haha....