The constant juxtaposition of the old and the new here. Nuns in full cream and black habits glide past heavily graffiti’d walls. Hip restaurants, crowding in amongst the ubiquitous fruterias and salones de onces, offer Colombian interpretations of high-low cuisine—waffles, mac n’cheese, and artisanal burgers. At small batch coffee roasters, principled baristas proffer beans ground to order to your olfactory organ before brewing.
Read moreThose who are born cicadas die singing
Three months after arriving in Colombia, we finally finished editing a short Central America video.
Read moreA few pointers on riding in Central America
What do you need to know before pointing your tires towards Central America? Last summer, we scoured the internet for basic pertinent information on riding south of the border. We honestly didn’t know a lot about the area beyond the infamous corruption, crime, and poverty. While there are plenty of guides for backpacking travelers, there were a number of questions pertaining specifically to motorcycling for which we struggled to find answers.
Read moreWhere are we going to so fast? My thoughts on the Royal Enfield Himalayan
From the moment the bike was announced, I was smitten. In its graceful profile I saw an unabashedly romantic motorcycle that embraced the aesthetic simplicity of the golden age of machines that hadn't yet been given minds of their own. It harkened back to the early days of adventure motorcycling, when BMW was just beginning to experiment with setting a big bike loose in the sand dunes of Dakar. Then, the motorcycle was a humble beast and the rider, her master.
Read moreBecause Ted Simon Didn't Have a Period: Tales of a Wandering Womb
Truth be told, women have long been rolling up their sleeping mats and climbing on motorcycles and bicycles and sailboats and airplanes and horses and pogo sticks and adding their voices to an adventure genre that is nevertheless dominated by the voices of men. I've had the honor of sharing coffees and couches and swimming holes and mountain roads choked with dust with many of these women. I live in awe of them, and I think it's fair to observe that they, along with most women, are accustomed to the act of keeping many spinning plates in the air.
Read moreA Lesson in Persistence
Wasn’t this one mistake enough to worry about? And why had I come here if I had already decided that it was hopeless? There’s no way to talk about this without sounding cheesy. But it was true. There was no point in being there⎯⎯in putting a whole sea between myself and my companion⎯⎯if I didn’t manifest the belief, in my thoughts as well as my actions, that I would achieve my goal.
Read moreFuego Fireworks
I am currently slogging through our hours of footage from Central America. I hope to get a video together for your viewing pleasure in the next week or so. But in the meantime, I cut this short teaser of Guatemala’s Volcán de Fuego erupting.
Read moreAbout the Pig
So, now that we’re all tucked in and waiting for winter in Patagonia to pass, I suppose it’s high time I tell you the story of “Our Last Night in Nicaragua and the Pig”.
Read moreWatch Horus Learn to Sail
For our third and final installment in the Darien Gap miniseries, I present the video edition. Maybe this will give you a little bit of a feel for what our voyage was like, although I guarantee there was more sea sickness than is shown in the video. Enjoy!
Read moreTwo if by Sea or Sailing the Darien Gap with a Motorcycle
We never entertained the formidable challenge of crossing the Darien Gap overland so we had three options to get to Colombia.
Read moreMeeting the Darien
The Darien Gap, “the world’s worst roadblock”, is sixty-six miles of untamed jungle isolating South America from Panama. Despite the continuous landmass that forms the American continents, only the brave and the foolish can cross it entirely by land and without the help of boats or planes.
Read moreTouched by Celestial Creatures
The cause was unclear, but no sooner had we bounced over the tope fifty yards back than I felt the unmistakable sad slushy wobble of a deflated rear tire. An old man watched us blankly from behind a tumbling pile of scrap wood across the street. He didn’t strike me as hostile but there was nothing notably friendly about his behavior.
Read moreVolcano Wonderland
I wonder what it must be like to have grown up with volcanoes nearly always within sight; what force they exert on the imagination. Perhaps I can only speak for myself of the force they exert on mine—to make my daily trips to the market, to think, to be thoughtless, in the shadows of volcanoes.
Read moreStaying Safe in Central America
There are stories that I don’t want to be able to tell and already we had written the first line of it. ‘We went for a walk alone at night on the beach in Nicaragua…’
Read moreCharging Failure in Chichicastenango
It wasn’t the first time that we have had bike problems—in fact, these setbacks have become somewhat endemic of our trip—but before now we had ample time to adjust our itinerary. As we approach Panama and our sail to Colombia, however, our time is becoming much more precious. There is no shortcut. There is no finely paved toll-road. There is no circumventing the time-intensive border crossings. We had to confront the fact that we were not visiting the ancient city of Tikal and we were not swimming in the natural jade-colored pools of Semuc Champey, we were headed to the clogged streets of Guatemala City.
Read moreWatch Two if by Land - Mexico
Watch our video chronicling our journey across Mexico from Baja to Chiapas.
Read moreRambling Roads
What I want to share often seems so much bigger than my own particular slant, and behind my desire to relate experience in a way that seems authentic and immersive is the bare hope that someone is listening. For we all want to be heard. Rarely, though, do we know the peace of telling a worthy story without some grappling, without visions of pulling a dazzling fish out of the blind seas with only one’s hands.
Read moreEnter Guatemala
I have a recurring feeling of a trip just beginning. All the evidence to the contrary, the worn out tread on the rear tire, my slowly improving Spanish, the constant clicking of the odometer clock (recently surpassing the 50,000 milestone), my beard grown out, the wild coconuts, bananas, and coffee beans that burst jubilantly from the brush all around us, is unconvincing.
Read moreExit: Mexico
There are as many routes as there are people to take them. Looking back on our time in Mexico I easily become distracted by the places we did not visit.
Read moreOaxaca to Chiapas
Sunday evening, as the sun cast long shadows over the deep valleys of Chiapas, we arrived in San Cristobal de las Casas. We had expected to stop short of the city in a dirty hotel in a nameless mountain pueblo, but the roads were smoother than we expected and straighter and we made good time. We began our day on the beach and ended it at 7,200 feet.
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