And So We Venture On...

The Grand Canyon was pretty stellar, I have to say. We lost Doug, though his departure for home had always been planned. He'll join us again in Santiago, Chile, when he's finished with the European leg of the Queen tour--if you don't know, he runs automation on the Queen and Adam Lambert Tour. For now, home and work called him back.

Josh and I spent another night in the campground on the north rim. In the early afternoon, I used the wi-fi at the general store to upload some pics to Instagram. But after about 30 minutes of trying to do so, I decided it just wasn't going to work. As I walked back to our campsite, I saw someone sitting at our picnic table who was neither Josh nor myself. To be honest, when I first saw him, I thought it was Josh. Though he was wearing the exact same shade of Kelly green shirt Josh was, one glance at his cute sailboat shorts, and I knew it was not. Josh introduced our visitor and said he wanted to share our campsite.

We all sat chatting for a bit and I got to know a little about our new friend. Since I neither speak nor write French well (who am I kidding...I mean NOT AT ALL) I will probably spell his name incorrectly. Demian is 26 years old, and was spending three weeks in the states and Canada with some friends, seeing the eclipse and a number of our national parks in the west. The day before we met him, his one friend asked the other to marry him, so Demian chose to split for a bit and give them some newly-engaged privacy.

Early in the afternoon, Demian headed for the showers, and we headed for the Kaibab Trail. I tossed my Camelback into the backpack, filled up our camp mugs, and off we went. As we headed down the trail, we passed a couple standing on the side of the trail, panting, exhausted from their hike back up.

The man looked at us and said, "I hope you enjoy that coffee! You're gonna need the jolt to get you back up!"

That's so cute. He thought we had coffee. Amateur.

I'm on vacation. I had wine.

We kept heading down the trail, and after a few switchbacks, we came upon Gus. His human was doing some trail maintenance, and to be honest, I just wanted to grab Gus's muzzle and give him a huge smooch. I have a soft spot for mules, and he was particularly curious and well-behaved all at the same time.

The trail was beautiful, and quite the workout. We followed it with dinner, then sitting around a campfire with Demian until it was time for bed. We left the next morning, spending a little more time on a different lookout, being awed and amazed by the views.

Walking back to the bikes from the lookout, we ran into a Kiwi on a KTM 950 Enduro. Well, not so much as ran into, as came around the corner and were surprised to see another person in riding gear. He was less surprised as he was coming from the parking lot--and by the line of our conversation had spent some quality time checking out our bikes--and probably heard us coming as my boots are still so damn squeaky!

We had a great conversation with him. He was at the end of a nice long tour around the western states and Canada. He and a buddy had flown their bikes over and started together, but after a fall that shattered his friend's leg, they split up--one for surgery and hospital, and one for adventure. I'll keep my squeaky-ass, protective boots, thank you. As we said good-bye, I handed him one of our travel cards.

He said, "Oh, you're Girl On A Motorbike? I've heard of you."

Yeah. So that was weird. I'm really still not used to what a small place the interwebs has made of this planet.

After checking out his bike, we hit the road. We were out of Arizona within an hour and a half, then out of Utah and back into Arizona--after a quick stop for groceries--in another hour.

It was hot.

And I mean HOT.

We rode into camp and it was 107.6 degrees, on a thermometer we have all determined reads low. A little while later, it spiked at 108.5. We jumped in the river and spent a restless, hot, night making a little dinner and experiencing the joy of scorpions. Or paper towels...I don't really know.

I just knew I'd be happy to move on to cooler climes...

 

 

 

Post tags: motorcycles, motorbikes, BMW, F700GS, Suzuki, DL650, Central America, South America, camping, Mosko Moto, Rev'it, Sena, Alt Rider

 

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Side Notes--paper towels vs. poisonous killers!

I did not grow up in Arizona, but I did get my degree from the University of Arizona in Tucson. Arizona is known for having a few things that would like to off you, such as nasty cactus, Javelinas, and scorpions.

My old dog, Scottie, and I had a few run-ins with the cactus, often ending in me frantically searching for the tweezers and pulling spines out of his face or my hands. I understand they are called "prickly pear," but I didn't think the pears would be prickly....

The only run-ins I had with the Javelinas occurred when I was in my truck, so that was never a real threat to me. If you don't know what a Javelina is, it's a giant hairy pig-like thing. But, it's not a pig. It's a peccary. You'll have to look it up if you want to know more--that's all I've got from my two and a half years of residing there.

Now, the last is probably one of the more common annoyances in Tucson. The first couple of times I lived there, I was told to close my drain plugs in the bathroom as they would crawl up through the plumbing. I don't really know about that, as I never encountered one. Not once.

So tonight, as we are camping in the Virgin River Gorge with the temps topping out at 108.5F, we chose to do our dishes in the ladies room. There is only one other camper in this giant place, so we just popped into one. It was full of dead bugs and looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in a really long time. Regardless, we cleaned a little spot for ourselves, washed dishes, and turned to head out.

I took this pic a few minutes too early. It would hit 108.5F later.

As I open the door, something small comes in, and I pay absolutely zero attention to it. Josh promptly steps back and says, in a very excited voice, "It's a scorpion!"

I said something to the tune of, "Really? Huh. Well, this is Arizona after all."

He re-opened the door and told me I had to see it.

It was nowhere to be found, but nevertheless, the idea of camping in Scorpion Land had me a little nervous. Thankfully, one thing Marmot has done correctly with its tents is make the openings round, with the opportunity to put the zipper heads at the tops. No tiny little Scorpion gaps for those little pukes to get in.

As we walk out of the bathroom for the last time, Josh says, "Well...it might not have been a scorpion.... It might have been a little piece of paper towel floating in on the breeze...."

Wait...WHAT!?! What do you mean a piece of paper towel? You can't tell a scorpion from a piece of paper towel???

In the end, it really doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have nightmares about scorpions army-marching into my tent while sleeping.

Good night!

 

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Here We Go!

Oh geez, all the plans I had for getting stuff done, and posting something spectacular for the day of our departure went right out the window! My friend Carmel--who has just begun her second year of moto-travel--warned me that I wouldn't be ready to go on the day, but that I just had to go. And...she was right.

So, on the morning of departure, Josh, Doug, and I took some pics, called parents (mine didn't answer, I had to leave a voicemail...) and I posted one little pic on Facebook, with the extremely short caption of "See ya!" I have to say I felt honored by all the messages of love, luck, and "post up so we can follow along". Thank you, friends!

Well, after two 360+ mile days to start us off, here I am, sitting in our campsite on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon! I am soooo excited. I have never been here. In case you didn't read that correctly the first time, I HAVE NEVER BEEN HERE. For those of you who don't know, I've lived in the southwest most of my life, and I went to the University of Arizona. But this is my first time here, and I am ready to hike and take in the views!

I'm curious to know what you all eat when you're camping, because I seriously enjoyed our breakfast. We have some AMAZING elk summer sausage our friend, Justin Large, sent with us. I fried a few pieces of that, then made banana pancakes to go with. We are fueled and set for the day.

Getting here has included two days of mixed riding--some spectacular scenery with decent temps, and some long, straight, boring roads in temps topping out at 103F. I may or may not have been sweating in my helmet....

We had a few problems getting started--I actually pulled plastics on my bike's hump, disconnected the battery, and re-wired some things the morning before we left. That got us started later than we had planned, and then we spent some time at two different stops while Josh worked on repairing his clutch play and gear shifter.

Near the end of the first day, as we rode into Durango, Josh was really struggling to get his bike to shift--even if you're not a moto rider, you can probably see how this would be a problem--so he worked on his bike in the shade of a Holiday Inn, while I ran to the grocery store for dinner supplies, and Doug ran to Liquor World (I'm not shitting you, that's what it's called...) for a box of wine. If you're not in the know, or even wrinkling your delicate nose at the idea of boxed wine, knock it off. They're amazing these days, and when you're limited space-wise, you can pull the bladder out of the box, and it's durable enough to stick anywhere in your luggage. Also, it's limp and boneless like a cat, so it slides into any available space. Doug got a Bota Box Malbec, and it is delicious.

So, we cruised another 20 miles from Durango to Target Tree Campground, set up camp, and set about to make dinner and give our collective bottoms a rest from the motorcycle seats. I had picked up chicken thighs, bell pepper, mushrooms, and onion at the store, and I sautéed it all with our jar of seasoning and served it over quinoa.

Then, to be honest, we just sat finishing our drinks and staring at the stars. There were a lot of them and they felt so close. Bedtime was next, but as per usual with me, on the first night of camping, my actual sleeping was spotty. That said, I was more than happy to be awake in the middle of the night to hear what must have been 30 coyotes yipping in harmony several times. It was beautiful, and I was truly grateful for the fact that I could be lying there listening to their beautiful voices singing in the night.

Josh slept through it.

Anyway, that was the first day. It was quickly followed by breakfast, photo shenanigans, and hitting the road for a long hot slog to the Grand Canyon. We did stop for lunch at a park that had a climbing wall, so you know, I was all over that...even in motocross boots. And we stopped for a couple of "border crossing" signs I didn't yet have.

As of this pic, I hadn't yet figured out how to get the front camera on my new phone to mirror the image so writing is the correct way...

We are on our way, and really happy to be. I'm not sure it has sunk in yet that we get to do this for the next 10 months, but I did say, "Hey! Two days down, nine months and 29 days still to go!"

Oh...and we are going!

 

 

Post tags: motorcycles, motorbikes, BMW, F700GS, Suzuki, DL650, Central America, South America, camping, Mosko Moto, Rev'it, Sena, Alt Rider

 

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Periods, Panties, and Parallel Twins

Yes, yes I did just use the "P" word.

And dudes who read this blog may want to scroll on. That said, dudes who want to be educated, and perhaps show a little more understanding to a woman rider, may want to keep reading. Your choice, but you have been warned.

A couple of months ago, after listening to a Freakonomics podcast interviewing Thinx Period Panties co-founder Miki Agrawal, I busted open the iPad and ordered just over $80 of underwear. To be more specific, panties. Three pair. It took a pretty big leap of faith for me to invest that much money in three very small items, without ever having heard a review on the product from someone I actually know and trust.

I let my fellow Colorado GS Girls know I had done this, and that I would follow it up with a review at some point. One of our members mentioned that she had bought some, and really liked them, and a number of women showed an interest in knowing more.

It seems ridiculous that with approximately half of the population of people in the world experiencing periods--and having done so since The Beginning of (Wo)Man-Kind, that we are still loathe to confront these subjects. Well, I'm here to put it all out there for my friends, and call bullshit on the taboo of discussing periods.

First things first. I got the panties in the mail, and was finally able to actually put my hands on them. As they are only available via the interwebs right now, that was the most important thing to me about them--what do they feel like??? They are a three-layer panty, and I really wanted to know if they felt nice, or felt like wearing Depends or a diaper. I mean who wants to run (ride) around with massive amounts of fabric bunched up in her crotch. Not me. For point of reference, I ordered the "Cheeky," the "Sport," and the "Thong."

They feel fine. They are a little heartier than your normal pair of undies, whether you're wearing silk, cotton, nylon, wool, etc. But they aren't obnoxious. They have a nice finish around the legs and waist, so you won't see panty lines anymore than most other undies. The one exception might be if you're wearing very thin leggings over them--which I often do, but then cover with REV'IT moto pants, so who cares.

A week or so after I got them, I was leaving on a ten day moto trip. Thinking I wasn't going to be in need of them within those ten days, I almost didn't take them. But then I tossed them in the bags anyway. They don't take up much room, so why not? And as it turns out, I was glad I did.

Eight days into my trip, I was riding up to Moab, UT from Arizona, and felt the first tell-tale twinges of cramps. I thought, "What? You've got to be kidding!" It was coming a couple of days earlier than it should, and I was not interested in dealing with being on my period. I still had a couple of nights of camping and riding to do with my ADVWoman Rally staff. Ain't nobody got time for this bullshit!

After setting up camp in a campground with nothing resembling running water or even a pit toilet, my friend Kandi and I ran around the grocery store, grabbing food and drink supplies for the next couple of days. I begrudgingly also bought a box of tampons, hoping like hell I wouldn't need them, and just popped the box in the tank bag to have with me at all times.

The next morning, I decided to try the Cheekies out. I wanted to see how they felt while standing around, walking around, running around, and riding around. So glad I did! And thankfully, at a darling breakfast restaurant the next morning, I had my tank bag with me as that nasty bitch, Aunt Flo, decided to make a visit. (For the record, never has a guest been so unwanted...)

We spent the entire day, until about 4:00 in the afternoon, in a broad, dusty open area, with barely a bush for cover. And boy did those panties do their job of keeping everything in. They didn't leak. They didn't feel icky. They didn't stick to me. Though I wondered about how it was all going down there during the course of the day, I wasn't absorbed with worrying. Yaaaassssss!!!

That night camping, and the following day of riding with the ladies in the morning, and the six hour ride home to Denver went by without incident! Those Thinx panties were worth every penny!

So, you might be wondering why you would want them. You might have your period under control, you might be perfectly regular and ready for every situation. Well, congratulations to you! Just know things can change, and take a moment to read my little story of Mosquito Pass. A few people know this story, and I tell it every once in a while, should I think someone is in need of a laugh, or some sympathy.

A couple of friends--all men--were going to ride Mosquito Pass from Fairplay to Leadville. If you want to know more about this Jeep trail, you can look it up. Each year it is a little different, but it always has some rocky, technical sections. It gets above tree line and has massive, beautiful, wide open views.

So we start up the trail, and make it past the first two really rocky sections. During the second one, Josh bashed his bike on something, and once we got to a good open area, we all stopped so he could do a quick repair. Sparing you all the details--because this story is going to be long enough as it is--as I stood there chatting with my two friends--and one other guy we met as he was going the opposite direction from us--I started my period. Out of the blue. Just boom!

And I was caught completely unprepared.

I had recently finished my period, and was not expecting another visit for several weeks. Now, I was caught unawares and unprepared, and still had almost the whole trail to finish out, bumping and bouncing along on rocks, hoping that since Goretex doesn't let moisture in, it also wouldn't let any out. Of my WHITE AND SILVER moto pants.

Well, I made it through. We got to Leadville and had lunch, but as we headed back up and over the pass in the other direction, I couldn't concentrate. My mind wandered and I was unfocused. Pretty soon, out of the middle of nowhere, I found myself sitting across the side of the bike as it lay on its side.

I never really hit the ground, I just slid in one direction as the bike slid in the other. There was an odd, floaty feeling as I went down, and my muscles and joints just let go. I felt limp. I knew, at that moment, that would continue to happen. Knowing the area well, I begged off the return trip and said I'd do the go-around, meeting them back in Fairplay. They were all surprised, and a bit confused, but my almost immediate feeling of exhaustion that hit as I went down made me realize stopping was a necessity.

For a long time, I thought it was just me. I thought I was weird as with increasing age, I found myself becoming more clumsy and more forgetful when I was coasting along with the red tide.

As it turns out, there has been increasing research into why many women have reported feeling clumsy or foggy-brained just before and during their period. It appears to be a combination of dropping progesterone levels--causing problems with coordination, affecting vision, movement and hand steadiness--and dropping estrogen levels causing fuzzy brain and slower reaction time.

Having researched this now, I feel much better with the idea that science/chemistry is behind it, and I'm not just an idiot. It doesn't make me any happier though. I don't want to take a week away from every month because **in a whiny, sing-song voice** I'm On My Period....

So, I don't. How would I get through my upcoming ten month trip, if every four weeks we had to stop for a week because I was afraid my hormone deprived body was going to rebel against me and drop 550 lbs of loaded parallel twin, on myself or off a cliff? Boy, would it be slow going and annoying. I'll figure it out.

There are things in the future I won't do. I won't schedule myself to participate in a class where I need all the concentration I can muster on a good day to learn and complete tasks that might be new or difficult to me. There is always another class or another time.

If that is the only class and the only time, I won't be hard on myself if I struggle.

If that is the only road, I will slow myself down and forgive myself for being more cautious.

If those are my only pants, I'll pull up my Thinx and get on with it! Though, I do think they need to start making those panties with motos printed on them.

You can find Thinx at www.shethinx.com

I would put pictures of me wearing them up with this blog, but you can just go to the website and see the models wearing them. I look just like that...

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A Moving Memorial

A number of years ago, my friend and riding partner, Ian Mcleod, lent me John Maclean's book, Fire on the Mountain: The True Story of the South Canyon Fire. In 1994, a wildfire ripped thought the mountains above Glenwood Springs, CO. Though it was originally mis-reported as burning in South Canyon, it actually burned on what is known as Storm King Mountain.

The fire was started by a lightning strike originally, and was quite small to begin with. They actually allowed it to smolder for a couple of days because it was so small. Sadly, winds shifted and ignited what was thought to be a small and unremarkable fire, turning it into a raging fire. The fire spread quickly, and crews were brought in from different wildland firefighting companies across the western U.S.

The book is well worth a read. It is head-shaking and heart breaking. By the time the fire was finally extinguished, 14 members of a hotshot, smoke-jumper, and helitack crew had been killed. It was the largest loss of life in a wildfire since Mann Gulch. Nine of those hotshots were members of a crew out of Prineville, OR.

My trip from which I've just returned found me putting gas in my bike in Prineville, a small community right in the middle of Oregon. I decided to go inside the store and ask the cashier if there was a memorial to the firefighters, and she gave me directions. A few minutes later, I pulled up to a beautiful park. A large bronze statue honoring wildland firefighters was hard to miss, but smaller and far more powerful was a path through a garden, with individual stones dedicated to each crew member from that fire.

I knew I would want to share this story and the few pictures I took with people. But this morning, as I watched the news and read stories online of fires burning all over the western U.S. and Canada, I knew I needed to get it done now.

Though many wildland fires are started naturally--particularly this time of year--by lightning strikes, at the moment there are more than 100 fires burning in Canada which were started by people. We have all heard the stories over the years--sometimes there is some asshole who starts fires. But, more often, a human-started fire is the end product of someone carelessly leaving a campfire smoldering. A camper may not notice the slightly smoldering or quietly burning embers under what looks to be an extinguished fire. They put it out, or let it burn out, the night before. It appears extinguished the next morning as they break camp, so they leave it. Then, winds shift and blow smoldering embers into dry brush, igniting we fires.

Experienced, responsible people put their fires dead out, or choose to not have a fire during the height of the hot, dry, fire season. I choose the latter--I do not carry enough water on my motorcycle to put fires dead out when I am in a dispersed spot, so I don't start one. I have friends who are wildland firefighters, risking their lives to extinguish these fires. I do not need to risk adding to their already heavy burdens.

If you camp, and you insist on having a campfire, PUT IT OUT--DEAD OUT! Fully drown your fire with water. Stir it, adding dirt to the ashes, and fully douse it again with water. You should be able to put your hand in those coals and feel no heat. Give it a few more minutes, and add more water just to be certain. You can find very detailed instructions on how to have a responsible campfire, when they are allowed,on the U.S. Forestry Service website.

Wandering along the path, reading the stones, like the one pictured above, dedicated to each member of that crew was very moving. It made that book and its story feel more personal. I hope to never have to see a memorial like this dedicated any of my friends, or any other firefighter for that matter. I will continue to strive to be responsible. I hope you will also.

 

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3,497 Miles Solo...or was I?

Helpful hint from your friendly neighborhood moto-traveler: Take pictures with your helmet hair in the shadows. No one will be able to tell how awful it looks!

"Wow! That's a long way for you to ride by yourself..." Said the guy on the ultra clean 1200GSA, wearing almost no gear at the gas station. His wife who was sitting on a curb--unhappily hurrying down her lunch--had even less gear on, but more excitement for me and my trip.

My fourteen day, 3,497 mile trip at the end of June might have been a long way for him to ride alone, but not for me. The truth is that I might have started out by myself and finished the trip by myself, but I wasn't alone. I met loads of new people, saw some old friends, rode with friends old and new, and spent some very precious time with family.

Strangers automatically asked where I was riding from, especially after my second day in. Riding an average of 400 miles a day and camping those first few night, a person could tell I was not local. How? Well, it could have been the wealth of dried, crispy bugs on my bike, my riding gear, and my helmet. Or, it could have been my helmet hair--so attractively matted flat to my head. Maybe the Colorado license plate. Maybe a combo....

Having another person along on the trip can save you from taking pictures like this...

Ok, this one is better.

Have you ever traveled alone? It's not for everyone. But, if you can do it, a whole new door to the world of getting to know people opens up. And, if you're on a motorcycle, it opens even wider!

Take Natalie, for instance. Riding from Portland, Oregon to Plain, Washington one day, I pulled into a rest stop. Across the sidewalk and under a tree, sat a set of grandparents with their (I'm guessing on age here) 5 year old granddaughter. As I returned from the ladies room, I saw the three of them watch me pass by. I took sometime to have a snack, and as I did, the trio walked back to their car, which was parked next to me.

Grandma told me their granddaughter liked my motorcycle. I told them she could come over closer if she wanted, and she scooted right around! She told me how much she liked it, and that her name was Natalie. I wanted to let her sit on it, but the blazing sun had turned my seat into something akin to a stone in a pizza oven, and I didn't want her to burn her little legs.

What I found so completely amazing, and uplifting, as we talked about my travels and things I had seen on this trip, was the grandparents enthusiasm in encouraging Natalie to like the bike, and the idea of traveling by motorcycle. They did not indicate that they rode at all, but I would guess they were travelers. We all left that exchange with big waves, and bigger smiles! I predict a future GS Girl from that meeting!

In western Wyoming, after I left Utah, but before I headed back into Utah, I was stopped for road construction. These stoppages would happen frequently on this trip. As the car in front of me and I rolled up to the flag-holder, I cut my engine. I figured I'd be there a while, and that thought was confirmed as I heard the woman tell the driver in front of me it would be about a fifteen minute wait.

As we were waiting, her golden retriever--a certified service and therapy dog named Peaches--went walking by. As I had some time, I slid off my bike and made a new friend. As I was petting her, the flag-holder wandered over and started a conversation. She was a lovely woman, and wanted to hear all about my trip.

At one point, she made a comment, marveling at the idea of traveling alone--not having to go where someone else wanted you to go, or having to stop when they wanted to stop, even if you didn't. I thought about it, and agreed that it was fun to be in charge of where I went, when I stopped, how long or how far I rode each day. When you travel in a group, even two, you have more than just yourself and your own wishes to consider. There is something very freeing, and even indulgent-seeming, about traveling alone.

I really enjoyed that exchange. It was a chance for me to not only meet someone new (and a dog!), but to reflect on the opportunity of being on a trip alone.

Later that day, as I rode through farmland, interrupted by only the tiniest of towns, I got to indulge in one of my favorite pastimes of traveling alone. With music and the engine hum as background, I would slowly ride through those little towns, looking at the houses, imagining the occupants and their lives, and playing the game of "Could I Live Here?"

I would take into account such things as proximity to cool nature stuff (rivers, forest, rock to climb), how cute the main street was (do they preserve--or even have--historic buildings), and if there was a liquor store in town. The real important things.... I grew up in a small town in Northern California, so I often thought I could really enjoy small town life again. But, let's be honest, if it's not within 30-45 minutes of a real city with some good restaurants, some theatre, and a good motorcycle dealership, I'm out. Still, it's a fun game.

I am not interested in only traveling alone. I love traveling win Josh, or a small group of people. It is fun to have someone to share and compare stories with at the end of the day, or while on the road through our Sena com systems. But, every now and then, a trip alone does wonders for my soul,and I embrace it.

There will be more blog posts about this trip coming: trip route, a description and review of the Touratech Rally for those who have never been, and maybe a couple more stories. Stay tuned!

 

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It's Almost Here!!!

Who is getting excited? This girl!

So, it finally happened. This thing I've been thinking about peripherally is almost here, and I finally realized it's actually going to happen. I've known this monster trip was coming for the last five years. But, for so long, it has been a long way off. It is no longer a thing onthefar off horizon. In fact, I am less than two months away.

I went to Barnes and Noble today, and had a moment. My older brother texted me a picture this morning of me in ADVMoto Magazine. I thought I should go pick up a copy--you know my mom will want to see it--and I found myself in front of a beautiful array of motorcycle magazines. I picked up one particularly stunning magazine called Overland, and flipped through it. It's beautifully laid out, with great stories of people traveling all over the world.

As I stood there enjoying such a lovely periodical, it suddenly hit me. I'm going to be one of these people soon! I won't be standing at home or at work, reading other people's stories, and envying their adventures. On Tuesday, August 29, I get to set out on a trip that I have been planning for, thinking about, saving places on a map, and saving money from each paycheck in an account just for this purpose.

I can't lie, I got a little emotional. I stood there and said, out loud, "I get to go do this!"

Does this little moment of mine seem like a surprise? I have, after all, been thinking about if for five years. But, that's just it. For five years, it has been something so far off, something hypothetical. In the last year, I have let almost everyone know about it. Some people knew from the beginning, and either forgot about it, or like me, figured it was a nice pipe dream that would probably never come to fruition.

As I have let people know more recently--particularly riders and travelers--there has been a huge outpouring of moral support. I am ever so grateful and appreciative to everyone who has offered positive words, cheered me on, and asked for my blog address to follow along.

Our three day trip--gotta test out the gear!

Do you want to do it? Do you want to go on an epic adventure of some sort, but aren't sure how to make it happen? You can. I've just returned from what I consider an epic adventure. I spent 14 days out and rode 3,497 miles. It was 14 days, not 10 months, but it was amazing in its own way. Just before that, Josh and I rode three days and camped two nights. It was its own adventure. Take yours!

Want advice on how to figure it out? Ask someone who has done it. It is within your reach. There are a number of resources including websites and local communities where you can find people who have done it.

The first day of my recent two week trip--everyday just kept getting better!

I am so excited! It is so close. Follow along with me. I have two more rallies to attend, and a month of work before I go. It seems like a lot, but I keep reminding myself that loading up and getting on the road with Josh is actually the easy part. Come with us!

 

Baja California, Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, Antarctica, Brazil, BMW, GS, F700GS, Suzuki V-Strom, DL650, REV'IT, Mosko Moto, AltRider, Dual Sport, Adventure Touring, South America, Central America

 

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