Soul survivor
Some people slide through life without its jagged edges touching them. While for others like Paul Stewart bad karma becomes a companion. And that bad karma sent him pin balling around the world, by bike…
You need to go on a long ride!’ These words reverberated in my head for months. It was a simple statement made by a friend during a phone conversation, and was inspired after they’d heard what had recently happened to me…
My situation looked like this: I had gone through the transition from a great life – owning a good business, house, all the benefits of a Western life – to a business sale gone badly wrong. So badly wrong in fact that it ended up in court. Then there was a divorce and a motorcycle accident that left me with a severely broken leg and ankle. And all of these things happened in quick succession. Then it got really, really bad: the culmination of the above caused me to have a stress
related stroke, which resulted in me going 100% blind a few months later. While driving in rush hour tra c. Certainly not a great development for a photographer. Something had to change…
In the meantime I took a few months off to deal with my eye sight – thankfully my blindness proving to be temporary. At last my life seemed to be regaining some sense of normality, then my father died suddenly from cancer and I flew to England to bury him (Paul is English, but left at the age of 21 – Ed). And this is when that phone conversation happened. I guess it was a simple enough statement, probably implying a long weekend away. But that wasn’t how my brain processed it.
I needed to get away, a long way, away. So, while I was in the UK, I went and bought a Yamaha XT660Z and handed it off to a shipping company, and told them I’d like it sent to Ushuaia, at the southern tip of Argentina. By sea the UK to Argentina takes a while and gave me time to return to the USA, sort out my affairs and hop on a plane south.
I collected the bike at Ushuaia’s docks – none other than Nick Sanders had made the arrangements. Nick also had a group riding north through the Americas and at the time it seemed like a good idea to join them. For how long was debatable because I’m not really one for the big group dynamics thing. Nevertheless, away we went. Surprisingly I lasted all the way to Mexico. However, when I was chased by Cartel members up the west coast, just north of Acapulco, and Nick’s chase truck driver Jim was kidnapped I decided it was time to go my own way. NB: the good news is Nick’s driver was returned a few days later.
And so it began. again…
From Mexico I continued to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska (if you watch Ice Road Truckers you’ll know about Prudhoe Bay). I thought a tip-to-tip ride would make me feel complete. It didn’t. So I continued on to Newfoundland, Canada, Key West, Florida and on around the US. And still satisfaction remained illusive. So I returned to South America, as far as Colombia and Venezuela. At which point I came over all Forrest Gump, saying to myself, ‘I think I’ll go home now’. So I did.
Having got back to four familiar walls it didn’t take long before my mind to wandered back to the road, the riding, the freedom. Better times. I stared at my possessions, realised I didn’t need any of them and set about selling everything I could. It became an obsession. At the same time I started to evaluate the 660: as good as the Yamaha was it was too big and heavy to take me where I wanted to go. So, I bought a KTM 625, rode to Canada and put it on a plane to South Korea with little plan or clue about what I was doing. I had heard there was a ferry to Russia so it seemed easy – catch that ride to Europe. And the timing was right for Russia – the weather looked good. Why not just do a quick lap of the planet? And so it began. Again…
Weeks with Russian biker gangs in Siberia gave me a whole new sense of freedom, just hanging out and having fun. By this point I had developed a, sort of, plan that included riding the BAM road (the name given to the R504 in far east Russia due to the horrific nature of its construction). But that old devil called bad luck was back as 500 year floods stopped me in my tracks.
Continuing west on the steppe in Mongolia, wild camping
‘Chased by Cartel members north of Acapulco… it was time to go my own way’
surrounded by camels and into the ’Stans sleeping in yurts on the high plains made everything feel good again. For the first time in a long time. The best way to keep the momentum going seemed like Africa, but a huge landslide stopped my crossing Turkey so I headed north. But there was war in the Ukraine, so I had to go even further north. All this when what I really wanted was the south and sunshine. Eventually I found myself in Eastern Europe. Surely this needs only a simple straight line to Morocco and that’s Africa. Actually no…
And the motor went pop
In the Czech Republic the KTM’S motor went pop and I was stranded. Despite finding an excellent mechanic when we called KTM about replacement parts the reply came, ‘we’ll have to make that for you, it’ll take months.’ Totally dejected I left the bike and flew back to the US where I bought another bike and rode some Back Country Discovery Routes and the Trans America Trail. But this was too easy. I wanted to be challenged. At the time Cuba seemed to be the solution, without having to fly. So I switched bikes to a big Super Ténéré for comfort. It was great to be in a place where hardly any westerners had ridden their own motorcycles, but it was too short lived as I spiralled into Latin America and back to Europe where I spent a year. As you may have gathered by now much of what I do is on the spur of the moment. And if you haven’t, what follows will persuade you…
Choose the road less travelled
After a year in Europe it was time to move on. An offer of a Suzuki DR650 for a great price in Arizona sealed the deal. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sell the Ténéré in Europe because of its US title, so once again I crossed the Atlantic where, for the fifth time, I changed bikes and took off. The DR650 was lighter than the Ténéré, had good range and was easy to work on. So why not take it somewhere that would challenge its usefulness. Cuba for the second time seemed like the answer; there were so many dirt roads there that no westerner had ever ridden their own bike on, it just seemed an obvious choice. So I hopped on a sailing ship from Mexico, and three days later landed. A month circumnavigating hidden Cuba revealed many hidden treasures and such friendly and welcoming people who were always surprised to see a motorcycle in those remote areas.
This time on leaving Cuba I had the option of returning to South America, so I took it. Riding hidden Colombia, Ecuador and Peru I crossed the Andes multiple times, rode into tiny villages that rarely see a western face, wandered the markets for food and travelled as slowly as possible to just take it all in. The problem was I hadn’t noticed the seasons changing and had left myself little time to head further south due to the oncoming winter. I was in a tiny little town in Peru when I got an unexpected email from another rider asking if I ever had plans to sell my bike to let him know, as he’d like to follow in my tyre tracks. At dinner that night a friend jokingly said, ‘sell the bike and get something really lightweight. Can you imagine the places you’d see?’ Again a seed was planted by a friend, however he was thinking South America and I was thinking Russia.
To date I have been travelling for almost nine years, and I
‘I’ve been travelling for almost nine years, and I’ve had amazing adventures. But somehow feel I have just been doing test rides’
have had some truly amazing adventures. But somehow feel I have just been doing test rides. Some longer than others, but test rides all the same. All this time I have just been getting my mind ready for what I think is the ultimate adventure: to ride around the planet on as much dirt as possible. I responded to the email, accepted the offer to sell my bike and returned to the United States to build my dream – a KTM 500 EXC to take me on that ultimate journey. In March 2020 I will land in the United Kingdom and ride east, almost exactly nine years after I first landed in Ushuaia. I have saved all the crazy remote dirt tracks around the world to computer hard drives, for when I need them, but the first challenge on the list is a rare opportunity to ride Afghanistan.
Nine years of test rides is over its time for the crazy adventure to begin…