First, I would like to thank Steve Davison for his generous donation. Although I’m not in the States right now due to a family emergency, but the mission is still the same and the rest of the directors are taking care of everything. I received a rather historical question on Iran’s relation with foreign countries from an interested blog reader. I’m no expert, but here’s my humble attempt to shed more light on Iran’s history so the American readers can understand where the hyped-up media reports come from. This was written to give an insight, however small to the recent history of Iran with the hope of better explaining the background of its people. It is not an accusation nor is it a defense of any government.

Iran was known as Persia until its name was officially changed to Iran in 1935. Iran is not an Arab country. In fact, it is an insult to call Iranians Arab. Iran was invaded by the Arabs in 644 A.C. The religion before the conquest was Zoroastrianism and is still practiced in Iran. Contrary to the claims of apologists, Iranians in fact, fought long and hard against the invading Arabs. Once politically conquered, the Persians began to resist the Arabs culturally and succeeded in forcing their own ways on the Arabs, and it’s not a coincidence that Iran holds the largest Muslim Shi’a denomination which is a minority in Muslim world. The Arab states (Sunnis) have never been an ally to Iran with the odd exception of Syria and have gone to great lengths to even name the Iranian territories by Arabic names and the biggest abomination of all, calling the Persian Gulf the Arabian Gulf.

“It’s all England’s fault,” goes the semi-humorous saying that has been repeated in Iran for centuries. Russia, England and the United States have been always controversial in Iran. Great Britain is traditionally blamed for all the troubles in Iran with the United States considered the “Great Satan.” Russia is hated for the confiscation of two provinces in Northern Iran in 1813, due to incompetency of one particular Persian king, Fath Ali Shah.  The invading Russian armies occupied the Aral coast in 1849, Tashkent in 1864, Bukhara in 1867, Samarkand in 1868, and Khiva and Amudarya in 1873. The Treaty of Akhal, in which the Iranians were forced to cede Khwarazm, topped off Persian losses to the global emerging power of Imperial Russia. That’s enough loss to make any Iranian have a second thought when it comes to deal with anything Russian.

England has a long history of colonialism as we already know, and when it came down to rich Persia, they were ecstatic about what they could get out of it. Before 1800, the Brits had no substantial influence as the Persian kings were particularly strong and oil was not their priority. However, after the 18^th century, most of the Persian kings started their leisure excursions to the European countries and were mesmerized by the way of life abroad, which paved the way for the British government to hack its way through Persia. In fact, Iran’s current southern and eastern boundaries were determined by none other than the British during the Anglo-Persian War from1856 to 1857.

In 1941, in midst of the Second World War, Russia and Great Brittan yet again, ignored the Iranian neutrality plea and invaded Iran forcing the king, Reza Pahlavi, to leave the country in exile and shifting the power to his son, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last king of Iran. At the end of World War II, there came a new rival to the traditional two-pole foreign influence of Russia and England. This time the United States moved in to convert Iran to an anti-communist state in the rage of the Cold War, and that ended the long-lived Russian influence in Iran, but the Brits stayed close on the scene.

In 1951, Dr. Mohammad Mosaddegh, Iran’s prime minister, started a movement which led to the nationalization of the oil and gas industry and by that, cutting the hands of the Brits off the liquid gold. What the Brits paid the Iranians for oil before the nationalization was nothing but highway robbery, and they were not happy to see it go. The United States also saw its interests in danger and shook hands with Great Britain to bring down the prime minister. In November and December of 1952, British intelligence officials suggested to American intelligence that the prime minister should be ousted. On April 4, 1953 the CIA director, Allen Dulles, approved $1 million to be used “in any way that would bring about the fall of Mosaddegh.” Mosaddegh became aware of the coup and dissolved the parliament. The CIA plan, however, was carried out to insure the United States’ and Great Britain’s cheap access to the Iranian oil. On August 19, 1953 the planned coup came to a successful end and by that, the only democratic government Iran has ever seen came to an end. Mosaddegh was imprisoned for 3 years and spent the rest of his life under house arrest until his death in 1967. Yet again, the coup confirmed the lifelong suspicion of the Iranian people that nothing good ever comes out of foreign relations.

In the winter of 1979, after a decade of uprising, the Iranian revolution finally became a reality and with that came the end of 2,500 years of monarchy in Persia. Shortly after, the Islamic Republic of Iran was formed under the supervision of the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Khomeini, and little by little, the secular west-praising Iran shifted to a Muslim state which scared the hell out of the neighboring Arab countries as well as the Western powers.

The Arabs were concerned because they didn’t want Iran to export its Shi’a revolution to their Sunni-run countries, and the West was concerned for the seemingly over-the-top fundamentalist leaders of the new republic. This concern was heightened when Iran invaded the US embassy in Tehran and took 53 diplomats hostage for 444 days during the Carter Administration which ended on January 20, 1981, twenty minutes after Ronald Reagan was sworn in as the new president.

On September 22, 1980, with the backing of the Arabian states, the demented leader of Iraq, Saddam Hussein, decided to take advantage of the revolution’s chaos in Iran by invading the Iranian soil from Northwest to South on the old claim of border disputes, thus beginning the Iran-Iraq War. Iraqi armies advanced full throttle for the central and the oil-rich south, killing and destroying what they could on their way. By March 1980, the invasion came to a stall, and Iraq’s army did not advance another mile from what they had already taken and that included the city of Khoramshahr in Khuzestan province. Nothing major happened in the following year, but in March 1982, Iran took on the offensive and inch by inch, the Iranian military took back all of the occupied territories by July 1, 1982.

In 1982 the Arabian states came together and offered the total reconstruction of damages by compensating Iran to end the war. Iran denied the offer, and the war raged for another six long years as the Iranian government made it its mission to advance until the occupation of Baghdad and put an end to Saddam’s regime.

The United States along with other European and Arab countries contributed greatly in weapons and economic aid to Iraq during the war. The Soviet Union, perhaps, was the number one supplier of weaponry and military advisors to Iraq during the war to the extent that, at the end of the war Iraq owed the Soviet Union almost $10 billion in military debts alone. The Soviet Union also sold weapons and ammunitions to Iran, completing its race for the weapon sale and destruction. France was the second greatest supplier to Iraq and tended to supply higher-technology equipment than the Soviets. This does not mean that many other nations did not either provide materials or encourage client states to do so, or that there was not a brisk business by private arms traders.

The Reagan and Bush Administrations sold over $200 million in weaponry to Iraq with billions of dollars in loans, including The Iraq-Gate Scandal which an Atlanta branch of Italy’s largest bank, Banca Nazionale del Lavoro, relying largely on U.S. taxpayer-guaranteed loans, funneled $5 billion to Iraq from 1985 to 1989.  Not only did Reagan’s administration turn a blind-eye to Saddam’s regime’s repeated use of chemical weapons against Iranian soldiers and Iraq’s Kurdish minority, but the US helped Iraq develop its chemical, biological and nuclear weapons programs. With more than 100,000 Iranian victims of chemical weapons during the eight-year war, Iran is one of the countries most severely affected by Weapons of Mass Destruction, yet it’s being accused of producing such weapons by those who actually made them. At the time, the UN Security Council issued statements that “chemical weapons had been used in the war” and again, the United States and Great Britain remained shamefully silent.

Iran also obtained weapons and parts for its monarchy-era U.S. weapons through underground arms dealings from officials in the Reagan Administration. It was hoped that Iran would persuade several radical groups to release Western hostages, though this did not result; proceeds from the sales were diverted to the Nicaraguan Contras in what became known as the Iran-Contra Affair.

At the end of the war in 1988, the USS Vincennes, an American gunship, shot down an Iranian airliner flying from Shiraz to Dubai claiming that they “mistook” the giant Jumbo-Jet for an F-14 Tomcat Jet-fighter. Tragically all 290 innocent civilian passengers, including 66 children perished over the Persian Gulf. At the time of the attack, The USS Vincennes was indeed inside Iranian territorial waters, and the Iranian airliner was within Iranian airspace.

Was the crew court-martialed? No. They got decorated. After completing their tour, the Vincennes crew was awarded Combat Action Ribbons for having actively participated in ground or surface combat and the captain William C. Rogers received the Legion of Merit which is a medal that is awarded for “exceptionally meritorious conduct in the performance of outstanding services and achievements.” Finally In 1996 the United States agreed to pay $61.8 million in compensation for the Iranians killed, however, the United States did not admit responsibility or apologize for the killings.

After 8 years, Iran and Iraq finally signed the UN Security Council Resolution 598, and on August 20, 1988, peace was restored. The war between Iran and Iraq left Iran with over 700,000 deaths, more than $500 billion in economic loss and thousands of families mourning, including mine. I grew up in that war.

At long last, the endless project of completing the IRS paperwork for 501(c)(3) status is completed which takes a huge load off of our shoulders. I wouldn’t do it again for a million dollars as the process was intense, complicated, meticulous and not fun at all. Just when I thought that I could rest for a few days, I ended up leaving the motorcycle in California with Cynthia and flying out of LAX to Tehran, Iran due to a family emergency.

I was born in Iran and lived there until I was 18 years old. Most of my family migrated to the United States starting from my oldest uncle three decades ago. My grandparents whom I dearly love are still living in Shiraz, my birthplace. My elderly grandfather is not doing very well, hence my excursion to the forbidden land.

I call it the forbidden land as everything is forbidden for one reason or another. From the heavily-filtered internet and disputed elections, to capital punishment for dog-walking in public (Dogs get executed by hanging, not the owners), there is always something to get a good kick out of. Despite all of this, Iran is a lovely country with an amazing history, mesmerizing scenery and the most welcoming people around.

You know you are in Iran the second you walk out of the airplane and stand in one of the never ending lines (even for killing yourself, you still have to stand in line in Iran) to the immigration and maze of suitcases full of western merchandise piled up at the customs waiting to be released. Tehran’s airport has been moved 60 miles out of the city and even though I arrived at 3:30 am, the whole city was alive with the preparation for the February 11th demonstration and the opposition protest of the recent election. The heavy presence of police was felt on every corner and frequent search stops brought me back to the reality I was away from for so long.

My aunt and her family live in Tehran so I have been visiting with them for a few days. It is great to see my cousins and hear their stories as they try to fill me in on the recent changes and of course, the inflation of prices. I had no interest in spending my short visit here in one of the notorious Iranian prisons, so I stayed away from all the political dramas of the revolution’s anniversary on February 11th.

Everything was shut down due to all the holidays, and I had to wait four days to buy a plane ticket to Shiraz, so I tried to make use of my time by checking out some of the museums and historical sites around Tehran. One of the places I visited was the Ancient Persia Museum in Southern Tehran. My visit was a bittersweet experience as it was hard for me to see billions of dollars worth of historical artifacts sitting so shamelessly in what I can only describe as the most careless and lackadaisical manner with florescent lamps lighting up the show floor like a ghost town. The materials are fascinating and range mostly from 2nd to 5th millennium BC, covering from the Stone Age to the magnificent Persian empire. Artifacts from 7000 years ago are on display in glass cases, and one can’t help but marvel at the craftsmanship of the early Persians. (If you believe that the world is only 6000 years old, Iran is probably not a country to visit as it might shed some serious light on your biblical beliefs.)

Just north of Tehran, starts a 200 kilometers two-lane road called the Chalous Highway which twists and turns all the way to the Caspian Sea in Northern Iran. There are tunnels after tunnels which have been dug out the heart of Alborz Mountain range, and it’s one of the most beautiful places you can visit in Iran. There are no camels contrary to popular belief, and snow-covered mountains cover the area. Much of the forests are memories of the past and have long given their places to cheap villas, shopping malls and ice cream parlors. You see more trash on and off the road than ever before. It makes me furious to see what my people have done to this once pristine landscape while still claiming to be glorious Persians.

I’m flying south to Shiraz in a day or two and will post more reports once I get there. I’m planning to visit a few orphanages and will cover the poverty of the rural life of Southwestern Iran so long as I can find an internet connection to get the news out. Till next time …

I would like to thank all the people who had shared their sympathy with me on continuing on the road alone at this point in time. Despite the fact that Cynthia isn’t joining the expedition, she is still very much involved with this budding corporation as she is still the secretary and a director on the board. She is truly an amazing person and has a lot to bring to the table besides keeping me company and I would rather have her as a friend than losing her altogether.

When I arranged the training courses with the Motorcycle Safety Foundation two months ago the MSF was generous enough to offer us a private Dirt Bike Course for just the two of us on top of the Basic Rider Course, which we documented previously. Since Cynthia virtually had no practice on a bike since Hesperia, she was reluctant to take the dirt course but was willing to accompany me down to the Honda Training Center in Colton located in Southern California to take video and pictures while I took the course. I was eager to take the course and build up on my skills as I will be encountering many dirt and mud roads in different countries in the course of this expedition, and this training offered an invaluable opportunity to learn the ropes on how to better my riding.

We left Bakersfield in an eye-blinding morning fog at 5:30 a.m. wrapped in layers of fleece and protective gear, but the cold kept seeping in as we rode over the Tejon Pass at 4183 ft. It took us about four and a half hours to make it to Colton, CA.

The Honda Training Center is one of only four of its kind in the United States. It is an amazing facility which accommodates many kinds of motorcycle training as well as All Terrain Vehicles. They pretty much thought of everything when they built this place. They even built a dirt trail system with cactuses, trees, rocks, stairs, and a mud pit (I don’t know if the mud pit was intentional but the recent rains had made a pretty good one).

Though we arrived late, our instructor from the Motorcycle Safety Foundation, Jun Villegas, met us with a smile. Although Cynthia was only planning to take pictures, Jun encouraged her to at least try getting on the bike and took us to the gear room to set us up with motocross gear. The course started covering the basics just like in the Basic Rider Course, from getting to know all the controls to spider-walking the bike. I was amazed at how quickly Cynthia felt comfortable on the bike and to her disbelief, she actually remembered all the things that she learned in the Basic Rider Course.

It must be a requirement in MSF’s hiring process to only hire the nicest, most encouraging, and positive people on the planet because I have not encountered one grumpy or impatient MSF instructor to this day, and Jun was no exception. For myself, I have no problem to get yelled at or criticized as long I’m learning and I have no problem to take on harder stuff right off the bat. However, I am sure it gets frustrating for the first-timers to process so much information in such a short time but that’s where the competency and patience of the MSF instructors shines through as their positive attitudes and words make all the difference.

The day went on with riding our butts off (both seated and standing) on different exercises like counter-weighting in turns, and riding over obstacles. I loved riding closed circles as fast and as tight as I could, and Jun did not freak out as I tried going faster and lower to the ground. We had a lot of fun trying different techniques and especially riding the trails around the property at the end of the day.

Cynthia was a trouper and despite a couple of spills, she kept on getting back on the saddle with a joyful smile and riding away. The most memorable incident was at the end of the day. I was directly behind her and Jun was in the front as we approached a tight turn. Jun shifted his weight and cornered fine. When I saw Cynthia approaching that corner at that speed, I had an epiphany that this was not going to end well and before I finished my thought, she was sliding and heading for the trees to the right side of the trail. She freaked out and turned the handle-bar to the left and ended up climbing a steep hill to the left covered in boulders. She ended up going between two boulders with her legs wide open while screaming and somehow managed to not crash into anything. The amazing thing was that she kept on rolling the throttle full-blast and would not let go as she missed a tree by inches and stopped near the top of the hill without a scratch.

I can strongly say that this course was the most fun and challenging thing I have done in a long time and Cynthia agrees as well. Anyone who rides motorcycles or even has the slightest interest in riding on two wheels should take this course. I would even suggest taking this course before the Basic Rider Course as it’s a fun way to start learning how to ride as there is no pressure to pass or fail in order to obtain a waiver exempting you from taking the DMV skill test.

Thanks again to the Motorcycle Safety Foundation for granting us this great opportunity and many thanks to Stacey Hall at MSF for arranging the trainings. She worked very hard to make them happen and we are eternally grateful to her and MSF.  For more information on how you can enroll to take this course in your area, click on the MSF logo on top of this site and get dirty.

I packed my bags last night for the flight

Closed my eyes to not see that terrible sight

There were times I got scared of the height

There were times that I was mean and at times polite

I guess you can be either a bum or a knight

What matters is not the might or the blight

I don’t think what I did will make it any more right

But I’ve had enough of this perpetual fight…           ~O. Christopher Sorbi

I am on the road again and to my own disbelief, not two-up but one down. My life has been public for a quite some time and I’m not going to change that now. The truth is that I’m back on the saddle and without Cynthia. I can give a million reasons why it didn’t work out and hold discussions and debates here but my job is something else. For me not to fall apart, it’s crucial to keep it together and offer my face to the gods of bugs and rocks on the back of my bike. The end result is what it is, no matter how I put it.

I would like to share my sympathy with the people of Haiti for what they have been going through. I grew up in a country that sits on an earthquake belt and shakes and rocks from time to time. I witnessed one of the deadliest shake when I was just 9 years old. As a kid growing up, I knew how terrifying it was to hide under a desk or a doorway, holding to an illusion of safety from tons of adobe bricks coming down on our heads.

I have been away from the news scene for a while, and when I found out about the disaster in Haiti, it was already two days later.  I became aware of the situation when the visits to the website started skyrocketing. At first, I thought of spam attacks but when I looked closely I realized that people were coming to the website because of using search terms related to the Haiti earthquake.

What led so many people to this website was a blog I wrote a month earlier:

“The question remains: Why should we care?

…Remember the hurricane Katrina victims? They had faces. They had media coverage. They had the whole world watching. We still failed to give them their most basic needs. Now imagine a family in Ethiopia or Haiti with no media coverage, no Wal-Mart to bring water, and nowhere to turn. Their story could be YOUR story. All it takes is one heavy cloud, one strong wind, one earthquake.”

Prediction? Absolutely not. Coincidence? Not at all. Story repeating itself? Perhaps.

This corporation is not in a capacity yet to be of any help at this point so I won’t beg you for money here. All I can do is to ask you to donate what you can, it doesn’t matter how much it is.

Donate it to the World Food Program (WFP) of the United Nations. They have the staff in the field, they have the choppers flying; they have the dogs searching. What you give right now is a matter of life and death. Save a $5 bill out of your weekend gas money or coffee run and save a life with it. If you use the donation button on this website, everything will get redirected to WFP daily for the next month.

I hope 2010 is off to a great start for everyone. It has been almost 5 months since I left my home in Montana and it has been a blast riding through some of the most beautiful parts of the United States and Canada. I have met so many amazing people and experienced the ups and downs of the traveling life. I started this ride with a vision and hope of good deeds and I have tried to incorporate my passion for the cause with activities which would stir up the attention for the cause.

I am pleased to announce another exiting change. After a long and exhausting research and tweaking my financial resources, I decided to take the leap and make the 501 (c)(3) a reality.

On December 3, 2009, the Articles of Incorporation were filed with the Montana Secretary of State office on behalf of the Transcontinental Humanitarian Corp. to form a non-profit corporation. The corporation was formed approved on December 7. Transcontinental Humanitarian Corp. is now a legal entity formed and operated exclusively for charitable purposes under the section 501 (C)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code.

On December 27, I received the Federal Employee Identification Number (EIN) for the corporation and with help from the directors, I am almost done with the federal paperwork for the tax exemption status.

To give you some idea on how extensive and exhausting this process is, I will name a few of the documents which I had to write and get approved by the board: Articles of Incorporation 6 pages, Bylaws 13 pages, Conflict of Interest 6 pages, 1023 Form 28 pages, additional information for the IRS 18 pages and so on…

The costs for forming the organization are significant and all the fees were funded from my own pocket. I invested my own resources into the corporation and while this is taking from me personally, the 501 (C)(3) status will open up many more fundraising channels and allow for us to write grants to virtually any foundation or corporation in the word.

I am in process of appointing and electing officers for the organization. I would like to invite and encourage the public to participate in this great and meaningful undertaking by filling the officer positions.

To be considered, you can apply for an officer position by sending your resume to Chris at motorcyclememoir dot com (Sorry spam robots) or by mail to:

ATTN: Board Selection

Transcontinental Humanitarian Corp.

P O Box 7603

Helena, MT 59604

The board members and officers are NOT employees of the Transcontinental Humanitarian Corp. but are the governing body and agents of the organization. There are no compensations of any sort and on solely volunteer basis. I as the founder and director still don’t receive any salary of any sort nor will any of the corporation directors. Lastly, not one penny of the public and private contributions will ever be used for recreation or personal gain.

I realize that lately I haven’t been posting any ride reports because in truth, there are no rides to report on. Despite the fact that  it may seem that I’ve lost my focus about continuing on the expedition or that I am being lazy, there is a lot taking place behind the scenes. I’m eating out of my own pocket as I always have been and everyday that I’m immobile and not making mile-measurable progress, I’m losing what little I have left but the reason for all these delays are due to extensive logistical changes and the aforementioned governmental paperwork.

Adding another person to the expedition is not as simple as doubling grandma’s favorite cinnamon roll recipe. The fact is that there are a myriad of details big and small which are being dealt with: from motorcycle training for Cynthia, packing all her stuff, getting her medical exams and shots and finding the right gear to further modifying the GS so it would be able to haul what’s almost impossible to fit in an SUV.  We are working on some fundraising events in Bakersfield, sending out sponsorship letters and setting up future lectures and slideshows down the road while counting days for departure time. The ride is not over and it has merely begun. It is expanding beyond the scope of what I envisioned for a long time and it’s getting done the right way.

“Are you on your honeymoon?” someone asked. While honeymoon doesn’t quite describe my situation, it’s honest to say that I have been a lazy writer. The transition from a free roaming lion to a domesticated cat is perhaps not the case here but not far from reality either. It’s like day and night comparing my careless life to what is becoming a more meaningful and sophisticated journey of its own.

I have gone from meet-the-parents to the emotional rollercoaster of dealing with the last minute syndromes. I have learned things that I never knew existed. To this day I had no idea that there were such things as blackheads and whiteheads and that women hold the only permanent cure to these abominations. I have been startled with a contraption that looked like a needle-threader to innocent eyes but turned to be a secret society torturing tool to pave the uneven skin by removing the undesirable colored heads.

I have felt the tension building up as the departure date is getting closer and nothing seems to go smoothly until the last second. It has been hard for both of us to cope with the uncertainty of the upcoming years or the tendency to pick  fights for the smallest things that would not matter under any other circumstance. All that aside, we plow through with conviction and determination, no matter what the next obstacle will be.

Cynthia has been working hard to meet these unsaid expectations and I am astounded at her fortitude every day. She is becoming an undeniable part of my life which scares me even more than the torture tool, but there is no measurement for the joy and happiness she brings to my life. She will fill you in on the latest news… Merry Christmas everyone.

-Chris Sorbi

Early mornings are not my thing. But this past weekend found me up before daylight two mornings in a row in pursuit of a lifelong dream. Thanks to the generous sponsorship of the Motorcycle Safety Foundation, I attended the Basic Rider Course in Hesperia, CA under the excellent tutelage of Andy, Casey and Tom, the course instructors. I say excellent because I am not the quickest learner (understatement) and my renowned klutziness makes Bambi on ice look Kristi Yamaguchi. But somehow these amazing men managed to remain chipper despite the early cold mornings and having me as a pupil! They had boundless patience, explained the directions in clear terms, and were never at a loss for a smile or a word of encouragement.

Chris was very kind to accompany me to Hesperia so that I wouldn’t have to make the trip alone and to provide moral support, as well as to take some pictures and video of the class.  We ended up finding a last-minute couch-surfing place to crash in Hesperia with a college history professor named Jim Comer. We enjoyed visiting with this intelligent, kind and modern-day Renaissance man who served us pine-twig tea and a dessert from an ancient Carthaginian recipe.

Day one started with classroom instruction from Tom. After reviewing the entire handbook in the classroom and a delicious breakfast which was Tom’s treat to the class, the morning ended with a written test. I was struggling to remember some of the details and while I knew about 40 of the answers, I wasn’t exactly sure about the remaining 10. Biting my nails, I handed my test in to be reviewed and went to the restroom. When I returned, Chris shook his head and told me that I didn’t pass and that I was the only one who didn’t pass. My heart sank. He had told me that it wasn’t an option to fail. I sat dejected, kicking myself internally for failing, when finally he told me that I did pass. The poor guy apparently just wanted to mess with me and joke around but at that moment, I didn’t find the humor in his joke.

The afternoon of day one started with a basic overview of the bike. There were 11 students taking the course. The only other girl in the class, Jamie, told me that her husband told her that when he took the class, the 3 girls in the class failed. We were both quite nervous about passing to say the least. We bonded over Gatorade and set out to master the basics. The hours flew by as we went from one exercise to another. By the end of the day I was sore and mentally exhausted but thrilled to be learning how to ride.

Chris and I went to Starbucks after the class to meet up with Jesus Granados, a new friend from the Hooligan Crusiers motorcycle forum who kindly rode in from about an hour away to meet with us and give us some information about traveling in Mexico. He also sent us numerous emails with valuable links and resources for our travels. We really appreciate his time and willingness to connect and help us out. Hopefully we can find a chance to go on a ride together before we leave the States.

The next day started with another beautiful sunrise, something that the high desert seems to have no lack of. After warming up the bikes we started going through more drills and exercises to teach us how to stop, swerve, go around curves, go over obstacles, stop in curves and change lanes. My nemesis was the “box,” a drill which involved doing a modified figure eight within the confines of a rectangle shape. I felt like I was riding a bull backwards for as much as I was able to get the bike to do what I wanted it to within that box. Thankfully, throughout the whole morning, Casey and Andy kept giving me helpful feedback and direction. Without fail, they were patient, kind, and good-humored.  Chris saved the day by bringing me breakfast so that I could get some sustenance during the breaks. Before I knew it the drill/practice time was up and we had to take our tests. One by one the entire class went through each exercise while Casey and Andy took notes on their clipboards. We gathered together for the moment of truth and cheered to discover that the entire class passed. So it’s official. I can ride a motorcycle. Well, not really. I still have to pass the written test at the DMV to get my endorsement. And I have miles to go in practice before I am fully competent as a rider.  But I’m on my way!

With 5 million graduates and counting, this is another testament to the efforts of the Motorcycle Safety Foundation and its great team of people who care about and value rider safety and shine through with their knowledge, patience, and dedication to making the roads safer and more enjoyable for everyone.

~Cynthia Q

I resolved the towing issue although not to my satisfaction. Instead of leaving the bike for eight days in their repair shop, I opted for a one-time cash settlement of $350 for the damages. This doesn’t even come close to the actual cost but I had no desire to stick around and try my luck with the bureaucracy of our justice system. I fixed the bike in Bakersfield and aside from the paint damage, it is up and running again.

Up to now, this expedition has evolved on so many different levels and I am excited to announce a very special change. As you already read in my previous posts, a series of events and setbacks have kept me in Bakersfield and during this time I met Cynthia. Cynthia is a passionate social worker and award-winning photographer whom I relate to on many issues. This was not an easy decision to make for either one of us, but after much consideration and internal debate, I am honored to introduce you to Cynthia as she will be joining the Transcontinental Humanitarian Expedition. Please welcome her to the world of tarmac and rubber.      –Chris Sorbi

My name is Cynthia, and I am about to take a leap. I am not the ardent adventurer that Chris is. While motorcycles intrigue me, I’ve never so much as ridden one alone aside from a couple of short zips down a quiet country road. Yet, I am about to join an expedition that involves leaving behind all of my creature comforts and head off into the unknown on one.

What would induce a social worker with a stable and rewarding job to leave the security and safety of her day-to-day life? The truth is that I have been dreaming about doing something that allows me to combine my passion for helping people with my passion for photography. The heart of this expedition, which is to raise funds and awareness for starvation, is what compels me to make that leap.  I am excited about the unique opportunity that this expedition affords me to have a greater platform to impact change and to make a difference in a tangible way.

Of course, there are certain risks and challenges involved with an undertaking of this sort, particularly as a female. For one, my hyper-active imagination and penchant for reading news about tourist trips gone wrong don’t help my peace of mind in setting out into the great unknown. I am easily scared. I feel vulnerable not knowing where exactly I’ll be laying my head and what sort of two or four-legged creatures will be outside my tent at night. Not having my soft bed or a warm shower every day I can deal with. But the cold and I are not the best of friends, and I loathe the thought of times of being bone-cold and tired with no relief from the cold. I freely admit to being jealous of the male species’ plumbing as I know that I can’t count on finding an actual restroom in the middle of nowhere whenever nature calls. But the drive and the passion for the cause outweigh these minor hardships.

Along with the massive amount of preparation that has to be done to get myself ready to join this journey in short order, there are technical issues to be addressed. In order to maximize my chances of success in enduring life on the road, we have planned intensive training to bring me up to speed. Courtesy of the Motorcycle Safety Foundation, I will be taking the Basic Rider and Dirt Bike courses in the following week. I will also undergo additional hands-on training under the tutelage of Andrew Pogany in Monterey, California. While this preparation phase will be intense and challenging, I am determined to make the best of it so that I can be ready.

Hasta la proxima! Chau!

-Cynthia Q.