Jerry Gurerra
Izak Elvrum · 26 November 2007

Everyone has got their story. I love hearing them; there´s nothing better than getting an animated account of another´s triumph or turmoil. It´s the reward for trying to be a people person. And travelling around, hostel after hotel, sleepy dirt village after asphalt jungle, I´m hard pressed for a better way to absorb the intriguing streams of humanity. Really, nothing better.

Except when it comes my turn. I go over my home, my family. Then comes this trip, those motorcycles. Every North American has a run-of-the-mill expression:

¨Hey, like Che Guevara, right?¨

Every time, spot on. Each reaction the same. My response has evolved after weeks of this middling whitebread. First, I explained, sure, I suppose there are similarities but now now—Che Guevara couldn´t have been the first guy to ride a motorcycle around South America. Just the most well known. I certainly won´t be the last.

Time and Bolivia pass. I consider typing prepared responses. Handing them out would have been absurd and offensive. (¨I thought you may say that and,¨ handing over an envelope, ¨took the liberty at peparing you this.¨)

But now I play dumb. I play so dumb it´s become an inside joke and a hilarious one at that:

¨You guys are like the Motorcycle Diaries, huh?¨ another American might ask.

¨Not following you.¨

¨That movie? The Motorcycle Diaries?¨

¨Hmm,¨ quizzical head scratching. ¨Sorry—just not ringing a bell. Wait, I keep a journal . . . more of a captain´s log, actually.¨This is rather lengthy. Continue reading here.

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A quick question
Patrick Holahan · 12 February 2007

Pick four friends, to travel to four countries in four months with 4,000 dollars to blow. go!

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dunes 200666
Patrick Holahan · 9 August 2006

what a strange trip that was! the madness that ensued from those dunes is unparalleled to date. The sands were hot and beautiful and spirits were high from the get go. 3 cars racing towards the goal all full of giggling guys gorging on lack of sleep. The arrival was incredible and Wyatt’s techno pumped us all up. The wonderfully cool breeze swept us across the great sand moutains and we rolled right into that persian den of sin. Evan’s beltbuckles, the throat dogs and the rampant other substances got used quickly and after trekking out to a measly river we return against the whipping winds to the camp and the boys all passed out for a quick nap which went well past sunset. But upon awakening the beer was annihilated and the meat dripped on sticks. A moonlit walk that dispersed the friends quickly back to the tents for more oysters and sleep was incredibly smooth.

The next morning we waved at a man in the sunny sky and watched bi-planes pass on by. the waking and baking led to munching and crunching which of course led to men rubbing lotion on the skin and then promptly putting it back in the basket. Quite a large number of us dropped the lil tab’s o fun, red pills, and drank some shots o rum. The beach mission was strange as the chilly fog and powerful wind blasted in and the random beach finds of a “jap hat” and the bouy shaker left us all staggering into the gray oblivion. Trying to make our way out of the whipping sands, we try to take the high road, which is full of FUCKING sharp needle grass and spiked cactus foliage. AGH!This is rather lengthy. Continue reading here.

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Goddamn shitty noodles from the shitty wok!
Noelle Stransky · 11 July 2006

Recipie for Nathaniel and No-L’s Shitty Salty-Salsa Noodles.

1. Fly to Prague
2. Buy some Shitty yakisoba type noodles that are only seasoned with salt because for some reason Asian food and Indian food seems to suck and lack all form of spice and flavor in prague.
3. Eat a few bites become dehydrated, drink all the juice you just bought and stick the noodles in the fridge.
4. Become Hungry again. And start craving the yakisoba you have at home that is flavored with garlic and ginger and goodness and realize all you have are salty noodles.
5. Give up, Realize that the noodles are now cold and their is no microwave.
6. Obtain Salsa, but not real salsa, the type that is more like ketchup, but is still spicy.
7. Saute Noodles and Salsa in a sauce pan until warm.
8. Enjoy! Because their not that great but its better than going out and paying more money for bad food or getting ripped off at a tourist place.

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Prague, the city of ninjas
Nathaniel Holden · 9 July 2006

Prague! City of ghosts(or ninjas that hide well) where we’re staying (atleast today). Giant epic buildings without any people. Several people warned us about pickpockets and such but we havn’t had any trouble so far. Though a guy kept shouting at us after we got out of the bar in every language he could think of. We turned around and said “Espanol solemente” and he cursed some and kept walking. A guy we met in the bar also asked us to get in his van to go to another pub with him but we declined. He just seemed like a lonely guy but better not to risk getting dragged into a full on kiddy porn dungeon equipped to the gills with restraining equipment. Anyways, Fuck Italy and Fuck France. The head-butt was rad, he should have gotten a green card….. one with a smiley face. I bled all over Amsterdam and made a whole bunch of people very upset in pot bars with my nosebleeds, good times! Ughhhhh, we miss home but are looking forward to the rest of the trip, I hope everyone is bringing home the Bacon, Budwieser, Bread, Meat, and whatever else you may need.
Adios!
Nate

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