Unless we're heading off to war, opportunities to participate in history occur rarely, but occasionally we just know that a significant event lies ahead. The choice is ours—whether to become involved or watch from the sidelines. And we'll never forget that decision.

Mine (so far) came in the spring of 1968 at the University of Illinois when my hippie roommate strongly urged me to accompany him that summer to the Democratic convention in Chicago. He told me how we'd be sleeping in Grant Park and how cool everything would be—Peter, Paul, and Mary expected to be there and thousands of young people having a good time and protesting, and how they were going to parade a real Illinois pig through the streets as a candidate for President.

As intriguing as this sounded, I ended up passing on the offer. Still financially dependent on my parents and relatively ambivalent politically (rooting for progressive Republican Nelson Rockefeller at that time), all I could visualize was a mass party of pot smoking and acid trips and inevitable confrontations with the police.

History unfolded for me on television as the police riots that fateful summer changed American politics forever. Naturally I've some regrets that I wasn't witnessing this on the battle lines first hand and can now only reflect on the justifications for missing the opportunity. My old roommate avoided the bloody clubs, but he'll forever remember the tear gas cannisters and describe the police brutality that he witnessed. I've got to tip my cap to anyone who willingly crosses the Rubicon.

That's what fascinates in Zack Winestine's Caravan/Prague. Following the political ideals expressed in his 1997 States of Control, Winestine joined 100 Utopian anarchists in late summer of 2000 to bike 500 miles from Hannover, Germany to the capital of the Czech Republic with the mission of shutting down the International Monetary Fund and World Bank conference. While many other groups were converging on Prague for the IMF/WB summit, the "Money or Life" bicycle caravan strove to be a counter-example to the secretive financial institutions—requiring total collaboration and 100% agreement before taking any action.

Given the events of the previous year's economic summit in Seattle, Winestine certainly knew the risks involved. The protests during the 1999 summit overshadowed the actual conference in the media, so the IMF/WB and host government had girded their loins to ensure that order be maintained, with a high probability of violence.

Essentially a video diary of his adventures, Winestine provides a valuable first hand account of the proceedings. The bucolic German countryside soon develops into suspenseful thriller when various police forces form preliminary obstacles before the most critical stage at the Czech border. Winestine narrates his "travelogue" with insight and humor to heighten the experience—necessary, given the subject matter and far more effective than having some objective "Morgan Freeman" style presentation.

The footage is fascinating, ranging from postcard perfect German villages to the cobblestone streets of Prague that are filled with colorful protesters and concussion grenade tossing riot police. Winestine's political diary also ranges from upbeat optimism to frustration to satisfaction to possible disillusionment that gives this video diary a more profound rendering than what you'd expect on the subject. Certainly any IMF/WB summit has the potential to make history, and we can Google factual and political material on their proceedings readily. But Caravan/Prague makes the whole experience a lot more human—without having to become Amnesty International poster boys ourselves.