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What I love most about TSY is meeting good souls like Murph. Currently Murph is on the road, solo. Just him and his BMW GS. I have to say, I’m eatin’ my heart out a little over here, and before we dig into the story, I also have to say– I’d love us to support Murph on his trek anyway we can. Check out his travelogue / photo-journal of his travels chronicled on WHERE THE HELL IS MURPH… and while you’re at it, buy one of his prints and/or make a donation however big or small– just do it. Let’s keep Murph on the road, gas in his tank, and food in his belly.
I knew I couldn’t do Murph’s story justice myself. You truly have to hear it from the man himself, and you’ll see why this is more than a bike ride. It’s an inward journey as much as an outward one–
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Born in Dublin, in the early ’60s– trials rider, enduro rider, then road racer. There’s a lot more in those eighteen years I spent there, but that’s another bottle of Johnny Walker Black. Left Ireland for the U.S. in the early ’80s. Lived in NYC (is there any other?) and loved it, but as fate would have it, a series of events had me move to Florida. At the time, blue skies, beaches filled with bikini clad nymphettes got me hook, line & sinker. I was soon to realise that all that looks good on the surface is not what it appears to be when you dive down a few feet.
Made a lot of money in Florida in property in the last ten years– in fact, was a multi millionaire. But then the Irish disease that afflicted my father got me. Booze. Alcoholism. I drank my way through a three million dollar apartment building I owned, a few houses, and three condos. Lost it ALL.
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The last two years have been sober. January 17th will officially be 2. But before that I went down as far as anybody could go, the depths of 24hr drinking. It really was a horrible place I led myself to. So in December I bought the bike, and tried to stay afloat by staying in the rat race, but being extremly independent and always having worked for myself– a $10 an hour job and being treated like a slave didn’t last. Meanwhile my house has been in forclosure for the last two years, so I really just exploded and said– FUCK IT.
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A retread on an old relationship didn’t work (go figure), I hated Florida, I always loved traveling, so got on the bike in April thinking– Lemme go and see some friends around the country, take some pictures, ‘n post ’em on a blog…
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