Our seven weeks in Mexico was so much more than we could’ve imagined with the food, the culture and the welcoming attitude of everyone we encountered. It was the perfect entrance into the unknown. We dodged chicken buses in Guatemala, released wild baby turtles in El Salvador, and found ourselves in the hospital in Costa Rica with a kiddo who had broken his wrist falling out of a bunk bed. It was in Panama that we tossed around the idea of not riding to Ushuaia instead allowing ourselves to slow our pace and enjoy the journey, not worrying about having to be somewhere by a certain date. Into South America we rode, a new relaxed attitude worn by Terry, Jack and I. A veil of fear of the unknown had been lifted and we were finally in the journey. No, we never did make it to Ushuaia, but we did change our course and headed east to Brazil then on down to Uruguay. With each country, friends were quickly becoming family, all insisting on sharing in a feast of traditional dishes and history of their culture. At the end of September 2015, it was time to make our way home. Because of the medical mishap in Costa Rica, we had to shorten our journey to 15 months, but that was okay. We made the decision to fly the bikes and ourselves to Miami, Florida, and ride across the southern states back to California. And on Saturday, December 5th, 2015, we made our way back up our snow-covered driveway with friends in tow ready to greet the weary travelers.