Distant memories

While trekking through this strange but beautiful part of the Himalayas, it’s got a certain aura about it that sparks youthful memories. I could almost imagine a summer camp here; a bunch of kids running around exploring all the coves, caves and hideouts, or perhaps I am the kid.

It’s got an adventure about it no doubt, one that makes me want to relive my youth but at the same time makes me feel extremely lonely. I feel like I'm missing out on life and on opportunities that could help me deal with certain things that happened in my past. All the clear blue rock pools embrace the emotion of freedom, making me want to run around naked and jump in every pool just to mark that I’ve been in there, but there is a bitter cold wind blowing and that water comes straight from a glacier; if I jumped in there I wouldn’t feel my toes for a week. Instead all I could do was watch and appreciate while reminiscing about my childhood and then some after that; back when I was a young wide eyed extremely eager enthusiastic and excitable kid. I’ve been thinking about the lives I’ve impacted ever since I left home. Of course, the fact that I feel I may have impacted their lives, is needless to say that they’ve impacted mine in one way or many, otherwise I would never have remembered them. I wont go into detail about close freinds and family since the impact they make is pretty obvious, otherwise they wouldnt be close freinds and family.

There was that family in Margate, South Coast of South Africa, who I lived with for a while during my aircraft technician training, which I hated. I loved the family of course, just not the job because, well, it was a job. There was the gliding club of which all members were adults except for one or two kids that would join their father for the weekend. It’s weird how when I was that age I preferred spending time around adults, now that I’m their age, I prefer spending time around kids, very strange. Maybe it’s because adults expect things from me that I can’t give them or expect me to be what I can’t be whereas kids just accept me. I still remember those I enjoyed being with, like it was yesterday. Brian Loader and his son Kevin, both excellent pilots. There was Big Brian who always smelt of cheese. He made goat cheese as a hobby and I don’t ever recall having any, but it sounded disgusting as a kid. Funny how our taste buds change as we experience life. There was Tibbs Tadisky and his son Dario, and Peter Wherely, who I ended up crewing for on board his 50 foot sailing vessel to Inhaca islands. I was still a teenager and the youngest person on board. It was like having one big family, and turned out to be an incredible adventure although Peter scared me a little, he was pretty strict with me. There were others on board that counterbalanced his fatherly regimen. Back at the gliding club there was of course non other than the antagonists, there’s one in every tribe, this one’s name was Patti Carr. I hated him with a passion, he always used to pick on me. Nonetheless if it wasn’t for those we despised, we wouldn’t appreciate those we loved.

Outside of the gliding club in the real world there was the lovely Jacky and Barry Barnes at Garden castle nature reserve; my first real job. They became very close friends for many years after that. Then that family in Umtumvuna Nature reserve; I lived in their garage while training to be a ranger. Then there was the Hoyem’s who loved me liked their own son and even offered to pay me and eventually would put me through my code ten drivers license if I stayed, but I had to leave, adventure called. In all 4 of those circumstances I was underage so I was adopted as one of their own.

After that I found more of myself in the most exciting time of my life up to that point. My time with the anti-pouching unit in a 100-000-hectare game reserve allowed me to connect with like-minded and fellow adventurers for 2 years. I will never forget them. We were all just boys and yet I feel as though I was more confident then, than what I am now. Or maybe it's just that my perspective on the world has changed.

Then their was the Larkin’s who took me under thier wing when I moved to the city to start my film making career. I could only spend a few hours with them at a time. John and Deirdre Larkin were both workaholics so whenever I was with them it always felt like they wanted to get on with stuff, unless it was dinner. They insisted on feeding me and I always had to find an excuse to skip dinner, I was shy, respectful and independent; I didn't like it when people went out of their way for me. Then came Boys Town which is a book in itself; the lives I crossed paths with in that place and the experiences I had, would take months to talk about. That’s where I met young Oliver, all of 14 years old. Little did I know, he would become a valuable turning point in my life. He would actually spend weekends with me at the Larkin’s after my Boys Town experience. I taught him how to drive in the back yard, and he almost crashed many times. It was such a fun time in my life and one I can truly say was my Tubula Rasa. The Larkin’s loved him too although I later found out that he stole a few things from them; that was sad but not surprising. He was a delinquent after all. I didn’t make too much of an impact on his parents, but certainly I did on him, I still have his goodbye letter in my journal. Then there were mentors that I worked with in the film industry such as Gordon Hiles, Paul Mills and his miniature Schnauzers, the late Chris van der Merwe and later a client who became a very good friend, Danie Knoester. Then there was my first real girlfriend, Fay Pretorius, who loved me very much but I just wasnt ready to settle, after all these many years, I'm still not ready. Then there was the Vincent’s of which Bradley and I shared a very special bond, then Arthur and Stelle in sedgefield, then of course Wayde, my nephew, who lived with me for a few years. There was Christine and Emile, then there was that couple that Fay and myself stayed with for a while in Cape Town. I will never forget the little boy who cried so hard that his parents needed to take him away when I left the American saddle bred farm, he was only 9 but it felt like we had met in another life. Then Linda and James Wiseman in franchoek, Cape town. That was kinda the end of my drifter years for a while. I got all serious about life, I got a fancy truck, bought a plane, had a house and all that boring stuff. I didn’t cross paths with many people that made any impact, I was just focused at trying to be normal. Even when I moved onto the airfield to do my pilots license, I was too focused to allow anyone into my life, or my heart. It didn’t last for too long; I got restless and started making plans for America where meeting significant people on my adventures once again began in a new chapter.

There was Ron and Joanne, Heather and Walker, and of course the rest of the cast for my first American made feature film ‘The Parricidal Effect’ including Ethan and Taylor, again not so much of an impact was made on their parents but certainly on them. https://vimeo.com/138583044

I of course did the bicycle trip around Michigan and distinctively remember a lovely lady who found me camping in a park. She took me home and ran a hot bath for me, one of the best hot baths I’ve ever had. Then while on my bicycle trip I got to Michigan city during the October fest and I got invited into some festive beer garden. I got food and a few drinks and then I remember there was a slight argument about who was going to take me home for the night. I ended the argument by simply saying “Who’s got dogs?” That settled that, the one lovely couple who happened to own a VW van like mine, only older, appeared to also own 2 Golden retrievers. I followed them home on my bike while they took pictures and video of me cycling in the freezing cold. I got to their house and was greeted by the loviest cuddliest golden retrievers, I’ll never forget them. The owner and his wife gave me the tour of thier house and instantly when I saw the hot tub I jumped in and settle in it for hours; it was a great evening.

Then there was that couple that picked me up after getting frost nip on my fingers while cycling through one of the coldest days in that October season. I took refuge at a restaurant nearby where the owner offered me a shower and a hot meal and warm apple pie straight out of the oven. I remember the meal was a beautiful Salmon on top of a bed of hot veg, to this day it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had. I was so cold I was shaking to the core and I made the mistake of jumping into a warm shower, it felt like a million army ants were eating me from the inside out. Then the old couple who were friends of Ron and Joanne, picked me up and took me to their lovely log cabin out in the country. I felt like a kid having been adopted, I wanted to stay forever. I had pushed myself so hard on the bike trip that I was afraid to go out again. After that was Pond Hill where I ended up shooting an entire full length feature documentary five years later, I think it’s safe to say I made an impact on them. I had hoped it would be the venue for my adventure camp that I had designed called 'The hero’s journey', but if I hadn’t gone back it would always be an itch that needed to be scratched. I can safely say it’s an itch that will never re-occur. Then there was a lovely lady who sponsored me a night in her guest house on Mackinaw island. It was love at first sight, I can’t explain it but my soul just loved her, she must have been at least 10 years my seniour but all I could think about was holding her. She was married so sadly it was not my place to ask but I will never forget her and to be honest I do believe she felt the same, it was a kindred spirits kind of thing. Then there was the lovely lonely lady from the haunted house. Sweat dreams it was called, however it was anything but, still, she was sweat and the experience was remembered. There was that guy who picked me up in his pick up truck and drove an hour out of town to give me a bed and breakfast. He rode with me on his bike for about 10 miles that next day. I will never forget the 'Eh' dialect from being so far north bordering Canada. There was another lovely couple that I stayed with on the east side, they had a beautiful home right next to the water. They took me out to dinner and I remember trying the walleye fish, it was pretty good but not as good as that aforementioned Salmon. Of course, as far as I went people would give me food for the road, but as they would give it to me I would give it to the homeless people that I would come across along my cycle. There’s not too many in Michigan I might add, they’re hard to find when you looking for them.

Through the course of my cycle I would spend nights at the fire stations. After having served as a volunteer fireman for 2 years in South Africa, It was incredible to see how dedicated and humble the firemen are in the USA. I think overall I spent about 6 to 8 nights in fire stations throughout Michigan’s coastline, it brought back great memories. I returned from my ride back to the comforts of Ron and Joanne’s home where I would subsequently stay for another year making my feature film 'The Parricidal Effect'. https://www.facebook.com/ryan.s.davy/videos/10156950252835846

That is when I came across Howling Timbers and the 2 lovely folks that run it, Brenda and Jim. Many years later I went back and volunteered for about 2 months, it was a great experience but not something I’d want to repeat. A wolf sanctuary sounds glamorous but literally all you’re doing is feeding and cleaning, until the day they die in the same cage they were brought in with, in a nut shell that’s it.

https://youtu.be/AwSh2U7tntk

A little over a year after completing that film I then embarked on another bicycle trip across America, this time to raise money for a bigger film. I still remember the few families or communities who were somewhat taken by me and insisted I stay longer while overnighting on my 60 day 4000 mile bike ride.

There was the old man with his radio controlled Sailing boats in Payson, Arizona. He got emotionally and misty eyed, when I left on my bike. He said it was the most fun he had had in years, he wanted me to stay at least one more night but I had to go, I had a schedule to keep.

There was that couple in Granville Ohio, who took me for a night out on the town. We sat on their farm house roof when we came back and witnessed a cluster of shooting stars, it was beuatiful experience, except for their very bad mannered pig.

There was Tamara’s cousins who I stayed with for a night. They had an 11 year old boy who was diagnosed with some or other personality disorder and I ended up doing a little story on him, he was so bright and so cheerful, yet at the click of a switch he would change personalities, he kind of reminded me of Oliver.

Then there was Chris at adventures on the great Miami. This guy was like ADHD on steroids. He kept saying “He gets it, this guys gets it” he was referring to me getting the idea of what an adventure venue needed to lure in its target audience. I mentioned the hero’s journey to him and he was so excited about me setting it up there that he would constantly harass me to return to build it.

A year later I went back to clear some land for it; when he saw what a good job I had done at clearing the land he decided he wanted to farm it. Needless to say that relationship didn’t last long. I left the same day he changed his mind but at least I could scratch that off the hit list.

Then there was that beautiful girl in Pittsburg who showed me around on her bike. We went on a mission to find the best milkshake in Pittsburgh. Her boyfriend created a very awkward vibe but nonetheless, it was a Grand time. The second nights stay in Pittsburg was with another lovely retired couple.

I remember the husband just wouldn’t stop talking, he had verbal diarrhea but still, I enjoyed the company. He rode with me for the whole of the next day on the Allaghany toe path that hugged the Yaghaghany River. His wife was going to pick him up at the end of the day so he didn’t have to cycle back. We still stay in touch from time to time.

There was another lovely couple that picked me up in a town called, Ohiopyle. They ran a white water rafting company and invited me to join for a day down the river. I ended up loosing another go-pro that had incredible footage on it. I wasn’t saddened by the missing go-pro but more saddened by the incredible interview I had with the gentleman.

He spoke very sincerely and deeply about the suicide of his son, it was extremely appropriate because my cycle was in aid of mental illness. For some reason I ended up loosing most of the footage of my entire bike ride across America due to a corrupted hard drive. However the memory still serves me well, and I have a blog on the World Wide Web to remember it by. https://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=1mr&doc_id=18172&v=kj

Then there was that Owl who flew with me for about 5 miles through the forest. He'd fly past me, land, then wait, then fly past me, land then wait; it was an incredible experience.

And that's when I bumped into a scout group who would accompany me for a while.

There was the bee keeper with the very obnoxious wife.

The mother and son that took me on a dinasaur museum tour.

The lovely lady who managed a macdonalds who got tearful when she found out what my mission was. While providing me with a sponsored meal, she walked around the macdonalds and raised money for my ride from complete strangers. I think she managed to raise around $70. I didn't even know she was doing it until it came time for me to leave.

And of course I’ll never forget the old gay farmer who had lost his wife a year before.

He couldn’t stop complimenting me about how good my body looked. Of course, I was riding across the country so I might have had a pretty tight ass, he was a nice old man but lonely.

Heathers mom and step dad were very kind and convinced me to stay 2 days in Phoenix then promptly drove me out of the city to get a good head start on my bike trip. I almost thought they were going to drive me all the way to New York. They were very kind and loving.

Then there was that beautiful couple out on the farm with the zip line, then of course their was Tricia and Tom from Tulsa, Oklahoma, who are still good friends today. I ended up filming their sons wedding for them a couple of years later.

There was the guy who managed to get the church to put me up in a room for one night in Wheeler Texas, because they were worried I’d be swept away by a tornado.

Then of course theirs Steven Straus and his church group, who I'm still very good friends with today. We did Yellowstone together a year or 2 later.

My buddy Cheo who put me up for a few days and cooked me an authentic mexican meal.

There was the White House and the arch in St louis, all amazing experiences.

I got to New York 8 days ahead of schedule and met some cool people but to be honest, New York people are, well, New Yorkers. Still, New York was a great experience but certainly not a place I’d like to live.

Another gap year went by where I didn’t meet any significant people while living in LA. I must say I can’t really connect with people in the big cities, they’re too busy buying things and filling their houses with stuff, so much stuff in fact that they have to hire more storage space for stuff that they think they need. In all 3 years I lived in LA, I can’t say I made any real friends, they’re a tad superficial and materialistic. Simply put, I hated LA!

Recently there’s been the family I sailed with to St Helena Islands who claimed I’d been their hardest working team member on the boat. https://www.facebook.com/ryan.s.davy/videos/10156950252835846

Then there was the awesome family I met while trekking wolves here in the Himalayas.

I trekked with them for a while to complete a small documentary of their mission.

https://www.facebook.com/ryan.s.davy/videos/10156445442795846

And then there was the 2 french guys who joined me for some wolf tracking from Gokyo.

For the most part I get along with everyone, and I love to win the hearts of people, especailly kids, it's a good testimony that I have kept my soul pure.

Those past adventures were a lot lighter then these last few missions or quests which seemed to have been dark and mysterious in more ways than I’d like to admit to. Perhaps it’s because either I’ve become dark and mysterious myself or it’s just that I’m pushing harder to find fulfillment and purpose. It’s not about fun anymore, it’s about satisfying the soul's mission without being manipulated by society, religion or normality.