Diana Beach near Fort Lauderdale and enjoyed a cheeseburger and cold draft beer at Rick's Bar on the beach before flying out the next morning.Once I arrived in Kingston, I by chance met my taxi, soon to become driver for the trip, a great Jamaican named Eric. He suggested a hotel in the depths of the historic town which was perfect to what I was looking for. I spent the first day walking
around the quiet Sunday town as the deluge of rain created flowing rivers in the streets in search of a place to watch the Indy vs. Seattle football game. After a few hours of searching with no luck, I ended up spending a relaxing day at my hotel with my room open to the fresh tropical breeze and the courtyard, a six pack of Red Stripe, and great conversation with some locals. The next morning I walked to the home of Bob Marley and was blown away by his life and the parallels to many things I cherish such as simplicity, spiritualism, and depth of the bigger picture. As evidence, Bob's owned a old LandRover even in the day, simple 
lifestyle including tracking his performances on maps on the guest bedrooms walls, single denim shirt he cherished for concerts, and entrepreneur sprit by building his own recording studio and record production line in his home. In addition, his transformation from his 20's to what he became in his 30's demonstrates anything is possible by following your beliefs as the entire world found strength through his Jamaican lifestyle.
Once back at the hotel, Eric was waiting for me to start my journey to the Blue Mountains and as we traveled through the city, he pointed out countless historical spots thru his lifetime of learning about the island and never to have stepped off the land. As the land transformed from city to jungle, the rough dirt road become small patches of huts where Jamaican's maintain similar living styles over the past hundered years. My point of drop off was Mavis Bank, but Eric continued on to Hagley Gap were 4x4 are required. With locals desperately asking questions and my need of a guide, Eric bought a couple of beers and sent me off with a warm salute and agreed to pick me back up in Mavis Bank in three days. I was still 3.5 miles 
and 2000 feet from Whitfield Hut and started to step journey in the hot afternoon. I quickly discovered every Jamaican male carried a machete that if desired could sever my head and push me off a cliff, but thank God the Jamaican’s are a friendly culture whom looks favorably to American’s. As I continued my stroll, I 
took in the primitive lifestyle including one room schools, livestock, vintage Landrovers, and warm smiles. Once at the hut, I was disappointed to learn a elderly Jamaican man named Vinnie was the only one there and did not know of my arrival. He also was not prepared with food which I did not bring as requested in my emails to the hut's owners wife. I shrugged off my concern and explored the dark hut that has remained as it was in the early in the century including classic furnishings, vintage books, and oil lamps. I enjoyed the solitude of the moment and took a walk back to another hut I noticed on the way 
up named the Wildflower and Rose welcomed me in and I was impressed by her accommodations including the porch fitted with a hammock overlooking the Blue Mountain valley. I decided right then to climb in the morning verses the next night and decided to stay there the following night including dinner once I got down from the climb. 
She asked if I like chicken and I smiled thinking of my reward the following day and walked back to the Whitfield for the night. When I walked into the hut, Vinnie tapped into his food provisions and prepared a dinner for me only of sardines, bread, and bananas over the flickering oil lamp on the large wooden table. It took me awhile to go to sleep this night but I listened to the exotic Jamaican night outside my open window. 
I woke up at 5am and started on the trail in the dark leading to what is known by locals as “The Peak”. The trail was straight forward with permanent signs leading the way and steeply traversed its way up the initial slope. As morning came, the landscape revealed itself in a lush green blanket and sweet aroma with a mixture of coffee, bananas, and tropical flowers. In the countless hours I’ve been deep in the wilderness, I’ve never
experienced such a distinctive aroma. The trail lessen and made a long traverse across the lower front of the mountain range until it reached Portland Gap at 5100 feet and still 3.5 miles to go to the summit. At this point I saw the first glimpse of the peak even though much of the summit was covered clouds. I refilled my water bottle with the piped facet and made my way on the trail heading east anticipating the trail to steepen the rest of the way. 
From this point the jungle become mystical in its depths and I become engrossed it’s beauty. It seemed like minutes until I reached upper plateau at Lazy Man's Peak (also know as East Peak) at 7000 feet with a sign confirming I had only 500 meters to go. The clear morning sky offered a brilliant view of Kingston in it's entirety, Port Royal, site of an earthquake that helped form the island's Palisadoes formed be sand deposits where waves meet, and Kingston Harbour one of the largest natural
harbours in the world. It is at this point I read many hikers turn around and head back down due to the difficulty but in my "jungle zone" I reached to summit soon after where I hoped for a spectacular panorama at the top. The summit of every mountain usually holds a surprised and Blue Mountain Peak was not different as a triangular structure and monument marked to spot of my adventure. The summit was still engrossed in a thick clouds preventing any chance of a view so I waiting for about 30 minutes while eating the last bread and bananas Vinnie gave for the trip and decided my chances were slim to none for a glimpse and started to head down. I’ve seen many spectacular summit views and was not disappointed in the least as the fog itself offers the mind a chance to sense 
the depths like a ocean and I could envision what it would be like on clear days when one can see Cuba in the distance over 130 miles away. I enjoyed the “Doors” on my iPod on the way back to the Portland Gap which enhanced the mystic of my surroundings. From there, I slowed the pace and soaked in my final lifetime experience of the Blue Mountains including eating some unripe fruit from a bananas tree.I was made in back to the hut at 11 am and said my goodbyes to Vinnie and moved onto the Wildflower Hut where a hot meal awaiting me in the
coming hours. I enjoyed my hammock overlooking the Blue Mountain valley and the Peak. Rose gave me a beer and enjoyed the lazy afternoon after climbing 16 miles watching the peak and any chance it would reveal itself it the afternoon. Being the only person in the hut, Rose had dinner ready around 5 pm and my authentic Jamaican chicken with beans, rice, cooked vegetables, and pastery was amazing. The night came quickly along with the deep thunder and lighting bugs.
In the morning my host followed up with her authentic style with a large plate of Jamaican greens, fried eggs, and wheat rolls. After packing my gear, I was off to Mavis Bank eight miles below where Eric would be awaiting but I secretly hoped to catch a ride for a lesser amount than the quoted 50 bucks. As I turned past Hedley Gap another future Jamaican friend named Stanford gave me a ride not only past Mavis Bank, but to the Blue Mountain Coffee Company where I needed to pick up fresh coffee beans. Not only that, he was on his way into Kingston for errands and since I was now well ahead of schedule he gave my a ride all the way into town to meet Eric. We enjoyed a deep discussion regarding God and 
our purpose and it was then I realized this might not be the last time I ever step foot in Jamaica. Life is good when you live it Jamaican style...Once back in town, the suggestion was Hellshire Bay, a native beach on the outskirts of town. The beach was everything BUT a tourist tramp which was exactly what I wanted. I spent the afternoon walking the beach, swimming in the Caribbean, and taking in the culture from another part if the Jamaican
island. For dinner I enjoyed a hand fresh hand selected lobster that was prepared over a open fire as I waited in a small hut held up by anything and everything you could possible imagine. No question, this was the best lobster and seafood I may ever have.The next morning I met Donald, yet another future Jamaican friend, whom in talking with is a musician and artist on the island, whom inspired
my future business and marketing model which I first envisioned on the European adventure. He allowed me to take his picture as long as I mailed him a copy of it and I agreed. He gave me his address and urged my to looking into drinking Noie, a Jamaican fruit drink that cleanses the body which I agreed. The next morning Eric was perfectly on time and provided an enlightening tour of the Kingston including the farmers market, historic buildings, craft market, 
and “Beverly Hills” district which holds the same name as in America. With an afternoon flight, we made our way to the airport and said my goodbyes to a newly found Jamaican friend… It was perfect timing and I felt I could have seen no more on this trip.Once back in America, customs was backed due to multiple planes but luckily there was a separate line for Americans with lesser interrogation than foreigners however it still took over an hour to get thru. I then walked the 4 miles to the hotel I stayed before and bought a 4 pack of beer on the way and ordered a large pizza for dinner. In the morning, I decided to rent a Harley which turned
out to be a fantastic idea. I started with a black classic Fat Boy and after 100 miles or so, went back to the dealer and exchanged it for black classic Road King which I was a bit scared to lay down as it is a monster of a bike however even though slow turns requires extremely care, I found to my surprise riding the Road King was like floating on air as it carried its own weight and I was simply being transported in the comforts of a leather reclinder. It humbly loves to find an open road and take off for the afternoon and 
at 80, it is truly the king of the road. I however look forward after 300 miles on these bikes and the warm Florida coastlines to feel and hear the sound of my custom ’72 Harley shovelhead hardtail chopper. The sound and feel is truly distinctive like that of the jungles of Jamaica…
