Did anyone get the license plate of the truck that ran me over? Damn my body hurts. I am definitely not the man I used to be.
As I, let's call it, roll out of bed, my bones ache like a twenty year NFL lineman veteran the day after Super Bowl Sunday. I swear I could hear creaking like old barn doors those first couple of steps off my horizontal heaven. Did we really cover almost 70kms yesterday along the Brazilian north coast? By the pain I feel everywhere in my body, that is a big ten four.

It's 1am our 2nd pro Sebastian Ribeiro fresh off his victory at the Brazilian University Surf League championships rolls into my room, exhausted from a weekend of competition. We exchange pleasantries and both collapse into our pillows.

In Brazil the sun rises at 5am, 4 hours before our rider meeting, and I was already awake with giddiness of anticipation for our upcoming day. Finally at 8am Sebastian and I roll out of our beds, and make our way to the breakfast room. Seems we aren't the only ones excited for the day. In fact, we're the last ones to arrive.

The text message from Lauren reads in a panic, I'm on the plane. We're taking off in thirty minutes, and you're not here!! Where are you?Crap! I'm late. I've fallen asleep in a rocking chair in Terminal D at Miami International, and was in a deep slumber. Half asleep I leap to my feet and start running. Out the terminal doors into the main concourse frantically looking for an airport layout map to hopefully tell me where gate J is located. Just my luck, it's on the complete opposite side of this massive structure called an airport. Run Forrest run!! I'm running so quickly, I actually run past my gate. Two gates later I realize I've gone too far and have to back track. Stumbling up to the gate, it's very obvious that I'm the last one to board, and everyone is waiting for me. Clumsily I pull out my boarding pass and passport, swipe the scanner, and scurry down the on ramp to the waiting 767 eager to leave for Brazil.

Up quese ho? (my finest hindi). Back from the desert, survived the ride! Our journey began from Jaisalmer by jeep, forty five minutes into the desert. In the sand hills we found our camel launch point. We had a drink while they prepared our very stinky rides, then promptly set off for the high dunes. After a few hours of awkward riding we got to our soft sandy vista. We cracked a bottle of wine and took in the sunset with another prairie boy and his girl who are traveling the world for a year. We watched the sun disappear over the camels backs, then slowly made our way back to the main camp. We arrived to cushions encircling a large fire where cold libations awaited our return. We sat back and watched a traditional Rajasthani performance with music, dancers and the occasional fire eater. We ate, we drank, we smoked the shisha and some Afghani specialties.

Now i know why the Indian rail system is the preferred way to travel; they forgot to build roads! 450 kilometers on the national 'highway' took a little more than twelve hours. Oouuff!! Thick fog blanketed the highway out of Delhi. We drove with the flashers on for the first three hours. Then it 'cleared', only to show pot hole strewn roads with a sliver of a lane upon which oncoming cars battle for lane supremacy. Rules of the roads, there are no rules! First one to flinch looses.