When I found out that being an adventurer was no longer a proper profession, I was sorely disappointed. I’d grown up on the black and white serials every Saturday at the local cinema, and I was looking forward to heading to the centre of the earth, a land that time forgot or some other similarly unknown world. To learn that there was no longer a profession that required wearing a pith helmet, spending years away and only emerging to tell wondrous tales with which to entertain a captive audience just seemed entirely wrong.

As a youngster my mother and I found ourselves in moments of homelessness and, in these moments, someone would invariably lend a helping hand thereby contradicting all the bad that news enjoyed broadcasting. While I’m sure this part of our life was stressful for her, I was running around Southsea in a ninja suit with my pals, jumping out at passers-by from behind the massive rocks that lined the seashore. Not a bad gig for a kid. In reality, I was learning to deal with situations regardless of how seemingly dire they were. Adaptability, kindness and an appreciation for the people and things around me would be staple themes that would guide me for the rest of my life.

My nomadic spirit never left my side, and I spent a good part of my early adulthood touring with bands through North America and Europe – working day-jobs as I found them. At some point after university, I got caught up in “making something of myself” though it has to be said that it was in no way at the request of my family. They’d been entirely supportive of my need to follow ideas to see where they’d lead me. For that, I’ll always be thankful. That nomadic spirit helped create opportunities to work with – and eventually start – some great, creative companies with a maverick group of designers, developers, artists and business folks.

So, wandering is in my blood. And in the past years, I’ve started to put that need to drift together with a curiosity I’ve had with motorcycles since I was a child.

Other than sitting on some police bikes as a youngster, I rode my first motorcycle when I was 8 or 9 on a friends acreage. It was a beautiful Honda Z50 Mini Trail. That friend grew sick of hanging out with me because all I wanted to do was ride that bike. I was hooked. Since then I’ve owned a few Duc’s and now this wonderful overland beast, the BMW R1200GS. But don’t think for a moment it’s about the bike or the brand. It’s not. I want to ride as many different bikes as I can as long as they move me – literally and figuratively. The beautiful thing about the R1200GS is that I don’t look like a circus bear riding a mini-bike and, for me, that’s a huge bonus :)

So, for now, home-base is Calgary, Canada. In 2006 I met my dream girl for a half-hour sitting trackside at the MotoGP races at Laguna Seca, California and now I’m proud to call her wife. Though I usually don’t, it’s usually “babe, baby, Nita, awesomestuff” or some such thing. I’m blessed to have a partner whose indeed game for anything – be it long highway trips or roughing it in a tent under the stars (sometimes fending off imaginary creeps).

And so it is. Two years later we’re still on the road. For those who like stats, it’s been 42 countries, five continents and a couple of days waiting out a hurricane in the belly of a ferry. I wouldn’t have it any other way.