First notes from the road

So I'm cruising along at about 50 km/hr in loose sand, getting air off those sandy whoops on the way back from Mike's Sky Rancho in Baja California, Mexico, and my friend Gord is just behind me. Then the donkeys jump in front of me...

I should probably back up a bit.

As of this note I've been traveling south from Victoria, BC, Canada, for about 40 days having entered the United States on September 11th, 2007. Much happened before the donkeys, much more has happened after, and much more is going to happen as I try to keep the rubber side down and money in the bank as I ride through Central and South America, Africa, Europe, and Russia and Central Asia. I'm going to be taking my time writing these notes and there are several reasons for that:

1. I want the time to build a reasonably coherent and enjoyable true tale of my humble travels;

2. I don't want to be leashed to the computer on a tight "deadline" when there is no need to be; and,

3. There may be times when I don't want people knowing what I am up to in real time.

So, reader (or readers? Maybe more than just my mother is reading this?) please understand that although these notes are true, they can be up-to-the-minute or they can be time-late by several weeks. Like this one! Enjoy!

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Travel in to the United States on 9/11 really was of little concern, for the grandest part, but it was still with a bit of trepidation we three riders, Michelle on her Sherpa, Gord on his Dakar, and me on the 'ole 650 GS, went through US Customs in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, and boarded the Coho Ferry bound for the US at Port Angeles, Washington. Other than getting little sleep due to the many last minute details, and having to renew my insurance the morning of departure, things were going smoothly and our only big task ahead of us was whether or not we wanted to go RIGHT off the ferry, or LEFT. It's the simple things about traveling that can make it so enjoyable!

We headed right, towards the famed coasts of Washington and Oregon and spent the next few days getting used to life on the road, getting used to each other, and all the other little trials that that means. Although I don't think a day went by in that first bit where something didn't go a little pear-shaped: on our first morning away from home somebody's bike wouldn't start (mine) and we had to do some troubleshooting that consumed a good portion of our early morning start. Then a day or so later, somebody (me) ended up breaking his gas cap with the gas pump nozzle. Whilst attempting a repair of the gas cap somebody (me) caused further, irrepairable damage to the nuts mounted in the ABS plastic of the gas tank. And so on.

Yet of course it is through these adversities that we find the unexpected good parts of traveling, such as oyster shooters in Oregon with the old-time Harley biker at the locals bar, Chinese food to knock your socks off in the middle of nowhere, and the most amazing Irish Coffee in the world, strangely in San Francisco. Although if you ever get a chance to climb up that hill on Lombard Street in San Francisco, the "crookedest street in the world" and you need to stop, perhaps it is better to try to not stop on one of the million oil patches, if you can avoid it (NOT me). And spin your rear tire, lift your front, and dump the bike. Just sayin'...(Gord!)

After far too much time for our "schedule" and more beautiful, foggy, oceanside twisties than I can care to count, we three crossed the border in to Mexico with zero fanfare, zero customs, and zero hassle. The date was the 16th of September, a Mexican Independence Day, and no one was working the border. And in our excitement at being in Mexico, and perhaps partly due to the unconscious insecurity we felt because we weren't able to buy insurance as everything was closed, we promptly and accidentally got back in to that massive, one-way, high-walled, 2 hour long line up of cars headed in to San Diego.

The First and Best!

Wow. What an amazing experience we've just had. Michelle and I have given talks to two separate high schools in the last few days. We've managed to educate and advocate for our cause, women's education in Afghanistan, to some of today's youth. We talked with the generally university-bound "Leadership Class" at Belmont Senior Secondary, and we talked with some less-structured students at Pacific Secondary alternative school. I think that both classes took away a strong message of the need for continued efforts in ameliorating the human rights situation for women in that country, as well as the all-too-real need for continued security efforts to enable diplomacy and development a place to grow. The alternative class takes the cake for interaction, though!

Mr. Dave Betts, Principal of Pacific Secondary, called our presentation "very positive." I think if we managed to get just a few people informed and interactive, we did a good job. Especially for our first structured public event. What a great feeling to start making a real change at the grassroots level.

But now we're continuing to polish the presentation, and recreate it in different tones for different audiences. Due to the attention by one of these events, we've accepted a request to speak at a charity banquet hosted by Belmont High School on behalf of Amnesty International. By relating our experiences with and passion for Afghanistan we'll be helping to raise awareness of the many injustices against human rights for women that still exist today.

Mitch

PS if you're looking for bike related stuff, it's coming! Hold on!

We're Cheap = Money for the Cause

That's right. We're cheap. If you're a concerned contributor to worthy causes, you've looked at the stats for how much money actually goes to end causes. Revenue Canada (my governing agency) states that as long as a charitable foundation (such as G.A.I.A.) "gives more than 50% of its income annually to qualified donees, usually other registered charities" then it maintains its charitable status. Hmmm....50% of the money YOU donate is for "operating expenses" of a normal charititible foundation...

But we are different. We're cheap. Don't get me wrong, we're not perfect. You'll notice that in our "services" we don't have high tech enterprise information technology solutions. We don't always have a friendly, courteous staff willing to answer your questions night and day. We're using as much free tech stuff as we can get away with. If we "need" to purchase something, we will. Hasn't happened yet, except the 10 bucks for domain registration. For most of us, any costs we incur as part our of our dealings we just accept as our donation to the cause. We don't toss in a receipt of $10 to the Accounting Dept. to get our money back. For us, that's just the way we roll.

My point is this: Goal: Aid In Afghanistan wants to help out the front line folks making a difference in that country. We're not here to create jobs for ourselves - we're all unpaid volunteers. We're not here to hoist lavish benefits upon ourselves - I've sold my car and my possessions to make this happen. We're here to help YOU get as much of a sponsorship "bang for your buck" as we can. When we publish, at the end of all of this, how much we spent vs how much we gave to the aid workers, I think many will be surprised at how we did it.

So forgive us for the un-flashy website. Forgive us our use of un-sophisticated, street level marketing tactics. Forgive us our home printed, non-glossy brochures. We want to focus on the mission, and we want YOU to focus on the mission- Goal: Aid In Afghanistan.

The Introduction

I had known about the dangers and the need for international intervention in Afghanistan for years. I really believed in the NATO presence and the job all of our troops were doing over there.

But the danger of the situation really hit home for me on May 17th, 2006, when my best friend, Captain Nichola Goddard, was killed in combat in the Panjwai district in southern Afghanistan. That terrible day, although I didn’t recognize it at the time, changed my life forever.

That summer I settled in to a severe depression. I hated my life, I hated the apathy of the world presented each passing day towards injustice. I hated knowing that there was such misery in the world. That there were good people who needed a chance and weren’t getting it. People, like Afghans, who needed a chance for democracy, for freedom to better their lives, and for freedom from harm. It hurt me to know that these things were so valuable that people I knew were dying for them. That they were worth having my best friend - a talented, strong, amazing person - die for. And yet, in my current situation, there was nothing for me to do. And still the situation in Afghanistan needed more help.

What could I do? I’m a sailor, a Naval Officer by trade and vocation. I’ve spent all my life since the age of 9 as part of a naval organization. I was senior member of my local naval youth organization, Sea Cadets. I enrolled in the Royal Military College of Canada as a Naval Officer Cadet at the age of 18, right out of high school. I graduated in 2002, with Nichola and her husband Jason, with a first class honours degree in English and a minor in politics. These were studies that prepared and honed the critical thinker in me.

I then joined the fleet and learned the practical aspects of my job: how to drive 5000 tonnes of warship at high speed in close formation; how to maintain precise navigation within yards of the planned route, by day or night; how to fight fires, floods, and the enemy. It was awesome.

But that terrible May 17th, 2006.

Nothing in my job could allow me to fight back against that pain, and I needed to fight back. I needed to make changes in the world with the passion that Nichola’s memory needed, with the passion that all of our lost loved ones needed, that all of Afghanistan needed.

I even considered joining the Army, changing jobs, or “re-tooling,” as it were. But could I, as an untrained soldier, make a difference where the difference needed to be made?

No.

Could I contribute as a naval officer to a conflict in a land-locked country?

No.

So I focused on the one other thing I really knew would help: education. That is, the development of the critical thinker in free Afghans so that they could choose for themselves their own paths, their own freedoms, rights and responsibilities unhampered by thoughts of death and persecution for trying to gain knowledge and insight.

I knew I could contribute in this way. I could fight to educate people for a better order in a nearly failed part of the world. This was my path.

And at the same time, I needed my own education. I needed perspective and knowledge of the world outside of my own high-speed, broadband-fed, free-medicare world. I needed a Master’s degree from the University of Hard Knocks; I needed to travel.

And so I developed this plan after months of meditation. To, simply put, quit my job, sell all my stuff, start a charity for women’s education in Afghanistan, and ride my motorcycle solo around the world to raise both money for the cause and awareness of the plight of Afghans.

Please follow my team and me as we build a charitable organization from the ground up; as we prepare a motorcycle, rider and gear for an unsupported ride of a lifetime; and as both the charity and the ride raise money and awareness for this cause.

Yours Aye,
Mitch D. Rivest
Director/Rider – Goal: Aid In Afghanistan