Today I discover a story, it is about two men cycling their way down to the end of the world. I have read about many people that have done this, it is not new or original, but so what? it is astonishing, and those who have done it -for me- are the kind of people Kerouac once told about. People that burn.
This particularly story is about two men going in their bikes from Oregon to Patagonia. Two men, two bikes. Simple. And after reading about them and seeing all those pictures in different landscapes, it made me want to shout and go out from this white and dull room I am now and walk those roads. I read their story and I read about their trip and all I can do is clap. My soundless applauses full of wonder and -even- a bit of jealousy. Jealousy for doing what I don’t dare to do and wonder for all those places they sure will have in their minds for the rest of their lives.
One of the guy doing this trip said he wanted to do it in order to write a novel about his adventures. Imagine the book he is going to write. Imagine the characters that book is going to have. He is meeting different people from lots of countries full of stories and laughs, he is eating local, he is living with what he can carry in his bike and he is using his legs as fuel. That is a great combo.
To leave everything behind and embark ourself into a journey of that magnitude is not an easy decision or action. It takes guts and even a little amount of craziness. Being crazy enough to say fuck it, and just take off.