Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing RoadWithin a ten-month period, Neil Peart lost both his 19-year-old daughter, Selena, and his wife, Jackie. Faced with overwhelming sadness and isolated from the world in his home on the lake, Peart was left without direction. This memoir tells of the sense of personal devastation that led him on a 55,000-mile journey by motorcycle across much of North America, down through Mexico to Belize, and back again. Peart’s journey of self-exile and exploration chronicle his personal odyssey and include stories of reuniting with friends and family, grieving, and reminiscing. He recorded with dazzling artistry, the enormous range of his travel adventures, from the mountains to the seas, from the deserts to the Arctic ice, and the memorable people who contributed to his healing. Ghost Rider is a brilliantly written, and ultimately triumphant narrative memoir from a gifted writer and the drummer and lyricist of the legendary rock band Rush. |
From inside the book
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... early '70s he and I had shared a flat in London, where he had met Rita, a refugee from the Shah's Iran, and brought her back to Canada. Brad and Rita had known great tragedy in their own lives, so they were a good choice to help Jackie ...
... early summer of that year we squeezed in another adventure. (We both had the time professionally, for I was between tours and Brutus was a selfemployed entrepreneur, but there was some serious bargaining and bribery going on between us ...
... early '90s I had carried a bicycle with me on the tour bus, which had provided a great escape and diversion. During the days off between shows I might spend the whole day riding from city to city, if they were within 100 miles or so ...
... early 20s, right up until the time I joined Rush. That evening I called my mom and dad, and talked to my dad about what I had been seeing and remembering. He told me that when his dad and Uncle John were young they used to come west to ...
... early on a Sunday morning there was almost no traffic, and I cruised with my legs stretched in front of me, resting on the cylinder heads. Occasional ponds and marshes were dotted with waterbirds, and near Yorkton I saw my first magpie ...