Well that’s convenient.

The following is an excerpt from my book The Divide. Find the ebook here.

I needed a break. I stopped at a convenience store for a drink. There were two guys inside, both Hispanic, one behind the counter, leaning on it, and one in front. We talked about the day’s heat and how they had been seeing cyclists since the racers came through.

“Yeah man, where is the rest of your group?”

“Oh it’s just me. I’m riding solo.” The two raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other. The guy behind the counter stood up. My brow furrowed in response to their movement. “What?”

“Well, it’s just that this isn’t the best road for bicycles. Not a lot of people around here care enough to share the road, you know? And on top of that you’re alone. This isn’t the best road for a white boy to be alone. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I hear you. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Yeah, when you get back on your bike I wouldn’t stop until you get to Cuba. That’s another 40 miles down the road.”

“What’s the road like? Flat at all?”

The clerk’s friend spoke up while he shook his head. “No, it’s all up and down. It’s not even the best road to drive because of all the hills. It’s probably worse on a bike.”

Awesome.

I was riding a prejudice, non-cyclist friendly road. Great detour. I finished my snack and grabbed another sports drink.

“Good luck out their, man.”

“Hey, thanks guys. I appreciate it.”

How to get a dinner invitation… while smelling to high heaven.

The following is an excerpt from my book The Divide. Find the ebook here.

“Are you broke down,” the driver asked. He wore a blue plaid shirt under a set of red Carhartt suspenders, white hair blended into gray sideburns that faded back to snow white on his chin.

“Oh no, I’m just lubing the chain.” I arched my back into a stretch.

“You must be doing that bike race.”

“Well, I’m not racing, but I am riding the route.”

A woman spoke from the passenger seat of the car. We all talked a bit about the route and the documentary that had a scene filmed at the church we stood outside of.

“Do you two know this road pretty well?”

“Sure do.”

“Good. I’m trying to avoid the rain and mud and am thinking of following this road to get to Silver City. Is there anything on this road? Any place I’ll be able to stop?”

Without a look to his passenger, the driver said, “Yeah. Mile marker 23.”

Mile marker 23? Now here’s a man that knew how to give directions. I laughed with his specificity. “What’s at mile marker 23?”

With a quick glance at his wife this time, “Well, we are.”

I glanced around for a mile marker. “You mean we’re at 23 right here?”

“No. I mean us,” he said pointing to himself and his wife. “Our home is at mile marker 23. Why don’t you stop by. We’ll feed you and let you used the spare bed, get a good night of sleep. How does that sound?”

Too good to be true. “Well, how far is it from here?”

“I’d say about 25 miles.”

“Well, that sounds wonderful then,” I said, not sure what to make of the situation. We hadn’t even introduced ourselves, but I had accepted an invitation to dinner. Strange? Maybe a little. But I wouldn’t have to stay if I felt at all uncomfortable.

“All right. What would you like for dinner?”

Like? I must have looked ridiculous, slack-jawed and sweat-stained. I was still so surprised at having been invited to dinner that I couldn’t comprehend deciding what dinner would be. “I’m not a picky eater, especially these days.”

“All right. Can we take your bags for you and lighten your load?”

“Oh no, I’ll hold on to those.” I didn’t have any suspicion of foul play. To give up the bags was another step toward an easy ride that I didn’t want to take. An easier route to avoid weather was one thing; pawning my gear off onto somebody else was quite different. “Mile maker 23, right? I think it will be a couple of hours before I get there.”

“We’ll be there. Just ride on in.”

“Ok. I’ll see you soon.”

It’s finally here!

After almost a year, it’s finally time to reveal my new book The Divide. It’s my personal account of riding the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, a route that runs from Canada to Mexico down the Continental Divide. Here’s a brief synopsis:

How far would you go to answer a simple question?

After his final year at university, Nathan Doneen wasn’t satisfied with the direction his life was heading. He had doubts … he had questions. In June of 2013, Nathan set out on his mountain bike to search for answers along the Great Divide, a 2700-mile route that traces the Continental Divide from Canada to Mexico… and he set out alone.

Thrown into the world of erratic weather, cramped bivy sacks, and overwhelming solitude, Nathan was continually forced from his comfort zone, putting his personal growth on steroids.

With both his future and past in mind, Nathan’s revealing and honest account illustrates the challenges of the route—and life—and how it’s possible to find the strength and courage to move past them.

You can read more about this book and find a collection of excerpts here. To purchase this ebook, head here.

This is also a good time to introduce the next big adventure. It’s called the Mototaxi Junket. I’m headed to Peru along with two friend to embark on a race for honor and respect—our chariot: the Mototaxi.

Our roughly 2200 mile route will carry us across a substantial portion of Peru and will test not only the limits of our motor vehicle, but the limits of ourselves. To see what I mean, check out this video.

You can be sure I’ll be writing about his experience, so stay tuned. In fact, if all my flights were on time, I’ve just landed in the city of Piura, Peru … so bring it on Mototaxi Junket!

Until I return to the northern hemisphere, read The Divide and let me know what you think!