Following strings to where The River Stops Here

13th February 2022 |

I live in a whirlpool of email. I have 94 mailboxes, and lots of them have long strings that trip me up when I go searching. The other day I followed a string and there, twitching at the end of it I found an ancient, buried email from Carla King telling me that Google has archived one of my books. Google didn’t ask my permission, but then I don’t expect such courtesies anymore. It’s a different world and monster corporations can do what they want. Carla gave me an extra bit of string – well, a URL really – to see for myself.

So I fed it in and started reading my own book. It’s called The River Stops Here and I couldn’t stop reading. It was gripping. It’s thirty years since I wrote it and now it’s as if it was written by someone else and I’d come across it in a library. It’s a modern-day Western and I challenge you to read the first pages and then put it down.

I remember that it took me the bigger part of three years to research and write it, and that when it was done I had spent so much time sitting at my tiny Macintosh computer that I was desperate to do something physical. That’s when I conceived the idea of walking across Europe, and that led to another book “The Gypsy in Me” which isn’t half bad either. And there isn’t a motorcycle in either of them, unless you count the time I got a lift on the back of two-stroke in Poland and very nearly fell off.

I hope everyone who ordered Don’t Boil The Canary has got their book. I just heard from Steve Villinger, who lives in the Australian outback, that his book has just arrived, ten weeks after I mailed it. Here he is with his wife and his dog.

I’ve had to send quite a number of books twice because the address labels came off the envelopes but I hope that’s just a bad memory now. I’ve had some rave reviews but if you want to add to them don’t let me stop you.


WE reach around the world. I got a nice message from Colombia, from an area I remember well. It’s not too far from San Agustin, which I visited on my first go-round. They had only recently disinterred the remarkable “guardians” that protected graves (as I understood it then). Here are a couple of them. The one in the top hat always makes me laugh.

Here’s the message:

Greetings from the Valley of Sibundoy, Colombia.

I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your view of the world, all that you’ve experienced as you’ve inched your way upon its crust. I appreciate your outlook and encouragement of “WE.”

I’ve been living on a motorcycle more than six years now, a biologist and conservationist, currently traveling South America by motorcycle. I follow a “map of hope,” writing about the positive efforts to help wildlife and the environment and lending a hand in any way I can.

I am filled with hope to meet the people and projects on the frontlines of conservation, to witness firsthand their efforts and the challenges they are up against.

There is so much beauty on our planet and we mistakenly think we are separate from nature, somehow, when we are inextricably linked.

Thank you for being a voice of connectivity in the motorcycle world, of reminding us to get lost in the wonder of existence.

Peace, Love, & Adventure,

Janelle (motogypsy)

So WE is everywhere already. Perhaps someone with more youth and energy than I have will take hold of the idea. It’s a gift.