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Somewhere along the trail I traded my horse for a motorcycle and my cowboy hat for a gaucho beret… and honestly the ride just keeps getting better.
Somewhere along the way we realized we weren’t really in the parking business… we were in the adventure logistics business.
I guess Elisa and I accidentally created a small outpost for wandering motorcyclists. un abrazo fuerte y buenas noches
This is what I love - expats creating a community. Your love for what you do shines through, and although I never got into motorcycling reading these stories have me interested. Do you, or anyone else, know of a good place how to properly learn to ride one?
 
Remote viewing was developed in the 1970s during intelligence experiments and involves attempting to perceive information about distant or unseen targets using structured mental protocols. Some people think it’s fascinating, others think it’s nonsense.
Is this like time travel? Or you can just see the future? Never heard of this. I'm going to look it up.

I try to stay above politics whenever possible — life is a lot more peaceful that way.
That is a good way to live! Too much of he world has gotten political.

What surprises many people is that women riding solo (“one-up”) across South America is no longer unusual. Twenty years ago most women traveled two-up (as passenger with a partner). Today a growing number ride their own bikes solo.
I have seen a few videos on Tik Tok of women riding around the world. I saw one in Mexico that looked like it would be dangerous.
This is what I love - expats creating a community. Your love for what you do shines through, and although I never got into motorcycling reading these stories have me interested. Do you, or anyone else, know of a good place how to properly learn to ride one?
Totally agree. It is great to hear the story of how he ended up in Argentina!
 
Around that time I told a few friends I thought he might win. My “method,” if you can call it that, was remote viewing.

Remote viewing was developed in the 1970s during intelligence experiments and involves attempting to perceive information about distant or unseen targets using structured mental protocols. Some people think it’s fascinating, others think it’s nonsense.
Hey @xfiltrate you won't believe this but one of my close friends first mentioned remote viewing to me. Crazy seeing a post on this topic. Do you actually have episodes of this? Some of the articles he sent me from the CIA and what some past ex-Presidents from the USA have said about it are mind boggling.
 
This is what I love - expats creating a community. Your love for what you do shines through, and although I never got into motorcycling reading these stories have me interested. Do you, or anyone else, know of a good place how to properly learn to ride one?
That’s a great question. I’m probably not the right person to recommend a school, because the truth is I learned in a very unstructured way — and Elisa’s path was different again. So all I can really do is tell you how we each got started.

I learned to ride in Japan when I was about 13. My father was a U.S. Air Force officer stationed there, and we lived off base. At the time I had inherited my dad’s stamp collection and had joined a Japanese Boy Scout troop.

One day I was visiting a small Japanese philatelist shop that liked some of the U.S. Special Delivery stamps in my collection. I wouldn’t sell them — until one day I walked in and saw a used 50cc Honda Cub parked in the shop.

The owner made me a proposal:
“How about trading some of those stamps for this Honda?”

Of course there were a few problems. I was 13 years old. No license. No insurance. And if my parents found out I probably would have been shipped back to the U.S. to live with my grandparents.

The shop owner must have seen my hesitation. He said, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep the Honda here for you. I know you’re a Japanese Boy Scout. Find someone in your troop to teach you. It has an automatic clutch and three gears — it’s easy.”

So technically my first motorcycle was purchased with postage stamps.

The entire Japanese Boy Scout troop immediately volunteered to teach me to ride. Before long they even introduced me to their little motorcycle gang and gave me a proper initiation. Those were different times. We would ride around Tokyo and sometimes end up near the Shinjuku gin bars where the hostesses thought the American kid was amusing. The U.S. airmen who frequented those bars often knew my father and kept an eye on me. This did not prevent me from smoking Parliament cigarettes, drinking way too many gin fizz, fondling the young Japanese hostesses and keeping a bottle of Acdama wine with my Honda. This was circa: 1959 occupied Japan. From Japan we moved to Ankara, Turkey where I graduated High School.

That’s how I learned to ride.

Elisa’s story was much more civilized.

When we bought our Hondas in Buenos Aires, she had first taken a one-day course in Arizona that allowed her to add a motorcycle permit to her driver’s license. We then bought our bikes here and immediately escaped Buenos Aires traffic by taking the Buquebus ferry to Uruguay.

In Uruguay I spent about a month riding with her on quiet roads until she was completely comfortable on the bike.

She actually tells that story much better than I do in an interview here:

https://adventureriderradio.com/adv...trouble-if-i-survive-ill-never-complain-again

So unfortunately I can’t really recommend a formal training program. But I can say this: learning slowly, on quiet roads, with patient friends around you worked pretty well for us.
 
That’s a great question. I’m probably not the right person to recommend a school, because the truth is I learned in a very unstructured way — and Elisa’s path was different again. So all I can really do is tell you how we each got started.

I learned to ride in Japan when I was about 13. My father was a U.S. Air Force officer stationed there, and we lived off base. At the time I had inherited my dad’s stamp collection and had joined a Japanese Boy Scout troop.

One day I was visiting a small Japanese philatelist shop that liked some of the U.S. Special Delivery stamps in my collection. I wouldn’t sell them — until one day I walked in and saw a used 50cc Honda Cub parked in the shop.

The owner made me a proposal:
“How about trading some of those stamps for this Honda?”

Of course there were a few problems. I was 13 years old. No license. No insurance. And if my parents found out I probably would have been shipped back to the U.S. to live with my grandparents.

The shop owner must have seen my hesitation. He said, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep the Honda here for you. I know you’re a Japanese Boy Scout. Find someone in your troop to teach you. It has an automatic clutch and three gears — it’s easy.”

So technically my first motorcycle was purchased with postage stamps.

The entire Japanese Boy Scout troop immediately volunteered to teach me to ride. Before long they even introduced me to their little motorcycle gang and gave me a proper initiation. Those were different times. We would ride around Tokyo and sometimes end up near the Shinjuku gin bars where the hostesses thought the American kid was amusing. The U.S. airmen who frequented those bars often knew my father and kept an eye on me. This did not prevent me from smoking Parliament cigarettes, drinking way too many gin fizz, fondling the young Japanese hostesses and keeping a bottle of Acdama wine with my Honda. This was circa: 1959 occupied Japan. From Japan we moved to Ankara, Turkey where I graduated High School.

That’s how I learned to ride.

Elisa’s story was much more civilized.

When we bought our Hondas in Buenos Aires, she had first taken a one-day course in Arizona that allowed her to add a motorcycle permit to her driver’s license. We then bought our bikes here and immediately escaped Buenos Aires traffic by taking the Buquebus ferry to Uruguay.

In Uruguay I spent about a month riding with her on quiet roads until she was completely comfortable on the bike.

She actually tells that story much better than I do in an interview here:

https://adventureriderradio.com/adv...trouble-if-i-survive-ill-never-complain-again

So unfortunately I can’t really recommend a formal training program. But I can say this: learning slowly, on quiet roads, with patient friends around you worked pretty well for us.
Awesome story about Japan and learning to ride. You sound like you have lived a full life! Your wife too.

I read that you lived in Pinamar. How is it there? I heard some friends tell me they go only for a week in the summer. Is it nice there? Do you enjoy living there? Is it cheaper than BA?
 
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