The Orphans

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Boys

Most people know that India is a fascinating fusion of many languages, cultures, religions and ethnicities that contrast as much from one another as the vivid colors worn by her inhabitants. Most people also understand that India is a place that some of the world’s poorest call home. In Indian society, the children catch the brunt of the desperate economic forces that ebb and flow. There are estimated to be at least 15 million child-slaves and 50 million orphans and child-prostitutes on the subcontinent. Think your life is tough?



The Brothers

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Andrew & Randall

Raised on the rural south end of Whidbey Island in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, Andrew developed a love for cycling at the age of 5. His grandfather bought him a candy apple-red Schwinn with a banana seat and he learned to ride around his neighborhood with training wheels…



The Route

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The Route

A lot of people ask what our route is. In fact, that’s probably the most frequently asked question!



The Gear

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CURTLO

A list of the gear we are using, from bikes to camping equipage.
Also, an up-to-date “wants” list!



Contact Us

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Phone Dial

Interested in sponsoring, promoting, or learning more about the Orphan Ride or the International Orphan Fund? Click the picture above or the link below for contact info. We would love to hear from you!



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MAKE A PLEDGE!

100% of proceeds to benefit orphans in southern India! Make a secure donation via PayPal.

Pledge Page
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Recent Blog Posts:

Of Revolution and Rice Terraces

Posted by on 31/10/11 09:01 PM
Filed under ,

In the darkening days of my motherland it would, from all appearances, seem that clamor of revolution is in the air…

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Bicycling China’s Poorest Province

Posted by on 18/10/11 10:46 PM
Filed under ,

I felt as though I was spending more time in well-lit tunnels (still rather frightening), some of them over 4 kilometers long, than I was in the open air.

read more
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Agony of Travel / Kuala Lumpur

Posted by on 01/10/11 07:58 AM
Filed under ,

It was late when I arrived in Kuala Lumpur International Airport. I bedded down in the hallway near Starbucks for the night, curled round my trailer, which was locked to my bicycle. I woke early in the morning, sole inhabitant of an island besieged by a tumultuous sea of feet…

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