White line fever, against the background of the Sea of Cortez
Riding the Baja

Aviator. Fire pilot. Motorcycle rider. Vagabond. Drifter. Trouble-maker. Jack of all trades and master of none. I’ve been riding and writing about the places I’ve been and the people I’ve seen for quite a while. Some of my writing is factual; some of it isn’t. I leave it up to readers to decide which–if any–lies are the truth.

I disappeared for six years. For most of that time I was in the high desert and the Baja. How did that happen, you might ask? Well…

I became fed up with my job, so I did what any sane person would do–I quit. I got rid of most of what I owned, sold my house, climbed aboard my motorcycle and headed south to sunshine, blue sky and adventure. When I finally stopped, I was in Mexico. When I came to, I was sporting a full beard. Don’t ask how long I was there. I have no idea.

During one of my forays south into the high desert of southern California, I was offered a part-time job at an old-school bike shop. My jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none life experience allowed me to parlay that job into full time employment doing computer networking and security and a lot of other things that no else seemed to know how to do.

Taking a break somewhereThat job paid the bills for six years. While I was there, I had more laughs and adventure than any sane person could want. I picked up and delivered motorcycles throughout the El Lay basin, planned and led bike runs up and down the length of California, glad-handed and schmoozed high-rolling customers and advised others when it was time to leave the shop.

I’ve ridden over a lot of North America at one time or another from Canada to Mexico, and from Atlantic to Pacific. By far, my favorite ride is up and down the length of the Baja Peninsula, where the people are friendly, the sun always shines and it’s warm in the winter.

Of everything that I have experienced in my all-too-brief life, Africa is perhaps the greatest enigma: a beautiful continent, rich in people, nature and resources, yet poor in all of those things too.

Yes, I know. There are some missing years in there. But what the hell, a little mystery is good for the soul, wouldn’t you say?