by Gary Kout

Jason was a true Canadian through and through. Although he was born in Australia, he was raised in the land up north; the maple leaf, the spruce tree, and the Rockies of British Columbia were Jason's hair, flesh and bone. When he met a fellow traveller from Canada, his deep love for his country became clearly evident from the enthusiasm of his greeting, and he could spend hours talking to a total stranger who was Canadian because no Canadian was a stranger. In fact, he had the uncanny ability to spot a Canadian license plate from a kilometer away!

He called the quaint heritage town of Nelson his home, living in the beauty of nature with his beloved family and friends. But throughout his life, Jason endeavored to expand his horizons beyond his own small corner of the world.

While still a teenager, Jason took off on his own back to the land of his birth, the land down under, Australia, where he lived for two years working odd jobs. He moved around a lot in Australia, usually by motorcycle. The desolate outback of the island continent, where roads stretch into next week and civilization becomes a faint memory, gave Jason the necessary skills for the long-distance motorcyclist - an unwavering gaze, an iron butt, and a keen sense of gas mileage. He also gained an appreciation for the hazards of night riding in the wild, as he was knocked off his bike, a Honda CX 500, when he had a little mishap with a kangaroo!

From Australia, Jason put in a six month stint on an oil rig in the South Seas. Hard work, good pay and an opportunity to visit much of Indonesia made it a wonderful time in his life.

Finally making it back to Nelson, Jason leapt enthusiastically into the family hotel business, running the restaurant and bar of the 22-room Heritage Inn, serving up good food, good drinks, and great stories. He worked hard and saved up enough money to buy his own house at the tender age of 25.

Always the outdoorsman, big and strong and very resourceful, Jason was an avid hiker, skier (both snow and water), but most of all, a motorcyclist. Since practically the day he could walk, he'd been on two wheels. When not working, he could usually be found tearing around the immense wilderness surrounding Nelson on fire roads and trails with his Kawasaki KX 500.

When the paved road beckoned, he took off for trips throughout the rest of Canada and the United States on his Ninja ZX-11. Of course the dangers from wildlife are not limited to Australia as Jason learned while returning home from a bike trip to Mexico. He was going 160 km/hr (100 mph) when a deer wandered directly onto the highway and into his path. With no other option, Jason gripped his handlebars and went right through it (disgusting but true). The bike wasn't in too good a shape, but Jason and his passenger were uninjured despite being covered in... well, you get the idea. (Editor's note: Nothing was more entertaining than to hear Jason recount one of his road warrior stories. Actually, the kangaroo and deer incidents turned out to be good training, because on the trip to South America, Jason encountered all manner of beast in the road and managed to avoid them all.)

Jason joined the Riding to the Moon team through the modern-day miracle of the internet. Planning to do a similar trip all on his own, he came across the other riders and their website while doing a little on-line research. His winning personality and good intentions were obvious even through e-mail, and the four original riders honored his request to join up. The final proof of his strength and courage was in admitting that five may be better than one in the face of the unknown and to embark on a long journey with four complete strangers. But by the end of it all, not only had he forged life-long friendships, but he even made the return trip from Ushuaia all by himself - a total journey of 40,000 kilometers or 25,000 miles.

Unfortunately, the life-long friendships formed on our trip were cut short by a tragic accident. After Jason had ridden the length of the Americas, twice, through all manner of hazard and risk, he passed away in his home town of Nelson after having been home a little more than a month.

Jason had broken his collar bone while demonstrating off-road motorcycling for some local high-school kids. A couple of weeks later, late on Sunday night, June 15 (Father's Day), he went for a walk in the lakeside park. Unbeknownst to anyone, Jason fell into a sink hole which drained into the lake, which was unusually high and very cold.

An incredible search effort ensued, but to no avail. Finally, on July 1, Canada Day, Jason's body was found on the shore of the lake. Thankfully, the lake returned one its most precious sons, ending the frantic search. The ironies of this tragedy run deep--the most patriotic Canadian we had ever known had indelibly imprinted the date July 1 in our memories.

Jay spead goodwill throughout his journey. We deeply regret the untimely loss of such a warm, talented, caring person. We love you very much Jay.