Shrinking The Planet – One Ride At A Time

Posts tagged “overland

Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 13) Video Shots

So you’ve seen a lot of pictures and read quite a bit of our story in the Ride To The End of The World – Fin del Mundo.  But sometimes, words and pictures take a back seat to being there.  Here are a few video shots that bring you on our ride to Torres del Paine’, hopefully putting you on the bike with us.

We had stopped at a rather remote border crossing at the Argentina/Chile Border.  The wind was way up and non-stop, in fact, it was so up, that the border guards stopped what they were doing, came out of the border facility with their cameras just to waive us through and wish us luck on our ride.  What an experience!

Wind at the Argentinian Border from Mike & Kim Botan on Vimeo.

You must also remember the moments I spoke about in Part 11 where my attention was divided by the beautiful mountains, winding road, pristine blue lakes and grazing guanacos.  Well let me take you there for a few seconds to see for yourself.

A Great View At Torres del Paine with Guanacos from Mike & Kim Botan on Vimeo.

Thanks for riding with us!

Mike and Kim

Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 10)

We glided over the paved narrow two lane following the contours of the fjord.  The mountains rose even higher around us and the peaks were covered in a gleaming white snow.  The brightly shining sun bounced from mountain top to the water’s surface and back creating a spectacular sparkle.  Sunglasses were indeed necessary as we wended our way closer to the Perito Moreno glacier.

We stopped at a little toll booth at the entrance to the park and paid a small fee to see what would be yet another marvel on this trip.  Just a few more miles down this winding and now forested road, lay an icy giant, silent and seemingly unmoving, yet amazingly powerful.

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At road’s end, we found ourselves in a fairly large parking lot complete with a few tour busses and hundreds of cars.  A couple of well maintained and new buildings sat to our left, providing places to eat and relax at what is one of Argentina’s natural treasures.  There were several walking paths and we randomly chose one that split the two buildings.

Soon we were on an elevated and grated walking trail above the surface of the ground, heading along the water and then…  There it was, the first close up sight of the Perito Moreno glacier.  Just the far end was in bright sun and the remainder was in shadow, but the size and the power of the glacier could not be hidden.

Giant spires of ice rose from the face of the glacier like the pikes of an advancing ice army.  As we got closer, the shadows could no longer hide the spires and they became clearer and larger.  The immensity of this frozen monolith was as apparent as its ability to act as an irresistible force of nature.  As the sun navigated its way in and out of the clouds, the ice sparkled, and the snow changed from dark grey to gleaming white, changed merely by the passing of clouds and will of the wind.  Nature could indeed paint pictures using its own natural pallete.

We lazily walked our way closer towards this awesome sight on the elevated metal corrugated carpet, eyes riveted to the ice and snow.  Just when we thought we’d seen it all, almost right in front of us, a grey fox rambled by us, not so much in a rush to hide from us, but more interested in finding a tasty morsel to dine upon.  We were truly getting the whole show today.

As close as we could get to the glacier on our man made walkway, it was nothing compared to the up close and personal look we would get from the giant sized catamaran that would take us to within 100 feet of the glacier.  As the time for departure approached, we eagerly boarded in anticipation of catching the aura of the glacier.

We were not disappointed as we slowly cruised out to the glacier.  It was far better to slowly cruise out to it.  The mountains framed the glacier perfectly and the passing clouds provided a cottony backdrop.  Never had white taken on some many different shades.  White ice, white snow and white clouds were all different shades of white and they were perfectly offset by the black of the rocky mountains and grey blue of the sea and the sky.

After about ten minutes of cruising, we reached the glacier.  For a brief period of time, the giant catamaran turned off the engines and the glacier came alive.  At times, we could hear the ice creak and groan as if it were restless and yearning to move faster.  A cool and sometimes downright cold wind flowed from the top of the glacier and spilled over the edge like a waterfall of cooled air.   Jackets were zipped and hats securely fastened in response to the glacier’s cold heartbeat of air.

So while we stood and stared in awe, we heard a gigantic crack like a single clap of thunder and a then a slight rumble.  About 500 yards away, a large chunk of ice had wrested itself free of the glacier’s face and plummeted to the water below.  We saw but did not hear the gigantic splash made by the ice and the waves generated by the bus sized chunk of ice now floating before us.  It was an awesome sight.  We were on a nature overdose and loving every moment of it.

But like all good things, our time at the glacier passed so very quickly.  Soon it would be time to start our ride back to our little hotel in El Calefate for the night.  As we walked back to the bikes, we marveled at how much we had seen in such a short period of time and how much we had enjoyed ourselves already.  But still, we had a two hour ride back through gorgeous country to the hotel to look forward to.  Not bad, not too bad at all.

After what seemed to be a very quick night’s sleep, we were back on the road early and covering some significant miles on mountainous yet smooth pavement.  We swooped around corners and leapt over the tops of the mountains and dove down their backs.  Four hours of pavement passed almost instantaneously.

But almost as suddenly as the road had been smooth and mountainous, we entered the plains again and were back on gravel.  As much as we had enjoyed the pavement, it was good to be back on the gravel and heading into some remote areas again.  As the mountains began to fade, the wind began to increase and once again we found ourselves crabbing into a steady wind with our 2 wheeled craft.

But we would not be too long without our friends the mountains, for we were headed to Torres del Paine and the most impressively beautiful mountain sunsets we have ever seen.  We’ll take you there in Part 11.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 8)

Having sneaked our way into El Chalten in the midst of a snow and rain storm, we had been quite pleased to make it to our comfy little hotel snuggled in the back of this hiking and trekking town.  The rooms were small and spartan, but they were indeed warm and inviting and we took off our cold and damp riding gear and put on some nice dry warm clothes.  It just felt good to be out of the wet and wind.

We hung around our little hotel catching glimpses out the back picture window of the hotel of what was supposed to be beautiful mountain scenery.  But rushing clouds and quick bursts of sun only served to tease us with a quick sighting of a sheer rock wall or shining ice, which would almost immediately become engulfed in a roiling mass of heavy wet cloud.  If these gringos wanted to see the mountain scenery, they were going to have to be patient.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

It began to get a little later in the evening so we decided to stroll into town as the days wind started to diminish as did the rays of the sun.  Whether it was it the setting sun taking pity on us or the spirits that surround El Chalten, something seemed to want to take pity on us and the rain and snow stopped as quickly as it had started and the clouds raced away to parts unknown.  For as we walked out of our place of respite and looked behind us, two towering behemoths came into view.  Pointed and sharp as only newly minted mountains can be, they pointed skyward, appearing to rend the clouds from the sky.  Then a third smaller pike came into view, these rock monoliths were not to be ignored, they wanted their presence known.

They had made their points.  We stood there slack jawed, clicking pictures at alarming tourist rates.  It was a conundrum of sorts.  I wanted to take pictures to have memories, but I didn’t want to experience the sight solely through the limited view of a camera lens.  I must have looked pretty foolish, camera up, camera down, camera up, camera down. The net result, fuzzy pictures and an even fuzzier remembrance of the exciting scene.  Next time I’ll have to choose.

Ultimately, we were able to tear ourselves away from the scene and do a little strolling, get some dinner and even a little shopping done in town.  Kim got some fun things and even I got something that you’ll see later (shade your eyes and hide small children).  We chatted with the shop keepers as best we could and even a couple of locals.  Overall we had a pretty nice late afternoon in El Chalten but we were pretty tired from the day of riding in the weather so after filling ourselves with empanadas, we headed back to the hotel for a good nights rest.

When we awoke the following morning the sun was out but the wind was again up.  However, we weren’t going to let that stop us from investigating the rest of El Chalten.  We’d heard that as well as being a climbing and hiking center, El Chalten also had a reputation for being a bit of a hippie throw back town.  This we had to see.

So we started out after breakfast and just started walking around the small mostly dirt streets.  Houses were in varying condition from very good to not very good, but everyone in the town seemed to be in good spirits and even though the town did not seem affluent by any stretch of the imagination, people seemed to take pride in what they owned and they tried to make their places look nice.  Some folks were very creative in their decoration.

Hand painted tiles were fitted into the sides of buildings leaving a rather beautiful adornment to what would otherwise be a very plain house.  Another had used stencils to make “cave paintings” on the side of their house.  There was just a great deal of creativity amongst the townspeople.  But we would find even more later in the day.

As we walked to the back of the town, we found a staircase that led up to the top of a plateau.  You could see that it led up, but you couldn’t ultimately see where it was leading to.  So curiosity obviously not under control, we marched our way up the stairs to the top of the plateau and found…  another town!

Yes, there was another little town within the town of El Chalten.  It had a glorious view of the town below as well as the surrounding mountains.  It was breathtaking.  But there was more to come.  This town was just being built and many of the houses had yet to be completed.  Some were actively under construction while others seemed to be waiting for their next phase to commence.

But what was really cool about this little town within a town was that each street had its own ambassador waiting to greet you as you entered.  Hand crafted from whatever was available, there were statutes of birds, bicyclists, guitar players, skiers, and whatever the towns people felt would be a nice welcome to their little street.  It was great to see that the residents of this little town had taken the time to build a little more charm, a warm welcome for themselves and everyone who came to visit them.  It was great!

There was also another ambassador of sorts.  An Old English sheepdog that had a habit of sneaking around following Kim wherever we went, but never got close enough for her to pet.  He must have been the shy type.  But he did indeed turn up in several pictures, pictures that I didn’t know he was in when I was taking them.  He was sort of like a Where’s Waldo dog!

We enjoyed ourselves immensely up on the little plateau taking pictures and strolling the streets with Waldo.  Ultimately we had to head back to the hotel because the wind was still up and it was getting chilly.  So back down the stairs we went and we spied a couple of the locals chatting in local clothing.  I just loved the look of their local garments.  It make me aware of the fact that I was in Argentina where there are still Gauchos!  Awesome.

As we made our way back to the hotel, we were thankful for all that we were able to see and do in El Chalten.  We’d enjoyed every minute we’d been there, and tomorrow, rain (or snow) or shine or heavy wind, we were headed off to El Calafate where we’ll take you in Part 10.

Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


KTM Releases Videos of 1190 Adventure

The adventure riding market segment is indeed becoming a very crowded one.  First KTM leaks the news of their new 1190 Adventure, then later formally announces it.  BMW announces its new water cooled GS1200 and Honda announces that it is returning to Dakar with a CRF450 based rally bike.  Phew!  Is it hot in here or what?

Well apparently KTM doesn’t think its hot enough in the kitchen and has released these two videos of the 1190A in action to turn up the heat even more.  So take a look-see and decide whether you need to turn on the air conditioning.

So BMW, what have you got up your sleeve to turn up the heat a bit?


Show Us Your R2ADV Stickers! Vermont Style!

Here’s our next picture from Fred Scott, AKA Fredo.  If you look closely, he’s the subject of an article elsewhere in R2ADV and he really deserved it.  Well Fredo has taken the time to show off his R2ADV stick VERMONT style.  I’m sure that sticker will be out on the gravel and in the woods, covered in mud pretty soon!  What more could R2ADV ask for?  So Fredo, thanks for showing us your sticker, you do us proud at R2ADV and the Green Mountain State of Vermont!!!

So if anyone else wants to show off their bike, gear, car, whatever, with their R2ADV sticker, send us a photo and we’ll post it here.  You know you want to, and of course everyone wants to see yours.  You say you don’t have a R2ADV sticker?  PayPal $1.00 US dollar to Ridetoadv@gmail.com and we’ll send you one worldwide (the sticker and the postage cost more than that).  Please don’t forget to include your complete mailing address.

Mike


Show Us Your R2ADV Stickers! Texas Style!

Here’s our next picture from William Rich.  He’s out there and showing his R2ADV stuff off!  Way to go William!  Thanks for showing us your sticker, you do us proud in the great state of Texas!!!

So if anyone else wants to show off their bike, gear, car, whatever, with their R2ADV sticker, send us a photo and we’ll post it here.  You know you want to, and of course everyone wants to see yours.  You say you don’t have a R2ADV sticker?  PayPal $1.00 US dollar to Ridetoadv@gmail.com and we’ll send you one worldwide (the sticker and the postage cost more than that).  Please don’t forget to include your complete mailing address.

Mike


Show Us Your R2ADV Stickers!

Here’s our second sticker picture from our faithful Charter member Willy Maria Lopez from Florida, USA.  Thanks Willy for showing us your sticker, it looks great on your vehicle!!!

So if anyone else wants to show off their bike, gear, car, whatever, with their R2ADV sticker, send us a photo and we’ll post it here.  You know you want to, and of course everyone wants to see yours.  You say you don’t have a R2ADV sticker?  PayPal $1.00 US dollar to Ridetoadv@gmail.com and we’ll send you one worldwide (the sticker and the postage cost more than that).  Please don’t forget to include your complete mailing address.

Mike


Show Us Your R2ADV Stickers!

Well we received our first photo of an R2ADV sticker out in public!  This one came from one of our Charter Members from Ohio, USA, Matt Nemec.  Thanks Matt for the photo!  The sticker sure looks pretty on that awesome Wing you have!

So if anyone else wants to show off their bike, gear, car, whatever, with their R2ADV sticker, send us a photo and we’ll post it here.  You know you want to, and of course everyone wants to see yours.  You say you don’t have a R2ADV sticker?  Paypal $1.00 US dollar to Ridetoadv@gmail.com and we’ll send you one worldwide (the sticker and the postage cost more than that).  Please don’t forget to include your complete mailing address.

Mike


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 7)

We awoke to more bright sunshine and the ever present strong and gusty winds.  But it was another beautiful day and we were soon loaded up and ready to head back out onto the rippio of Routa 40 towards El Chalten.  It was to be rippio for a large portion of the day and once near El Chalten, we would once again be on pavement for a while.  Wow pavement, smooth, wide and potentially with road markings defining left and right lanes.  At first I thought it would be a pleasant change, but then something odd hit me.  I had become so accustomed to riding the rippio, with all its undulations, bumps, holes, random rocks, asteroid and pea sized gravel, sometimes very loose and very deep, sand, and unknown hazards, that I actually felt I was going to miss it.  A lot!

Where was the adventure in pavement riding?   Anyone could ride pavement!  I suddenly didn’t want the rippio to end; ever!  It seemed too sedate and boring in such an exciting and adventurous environment, it was truly going to be a let down once we reached it; or so I thought.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

With the push of the bike’s starter button the unwanted thoughts of the potentially smooth pavement ahead were ignited and expelled from my mind.  The engines twin cylinder song sang sweet rhythmic melodies, raising my spirit with each rise and descent in the note of the engine.  And as the wheels turned, the sound of crunching gravel beneath my tires crushed any concerns of boredom into nothingness, just like the Patagonian winds dispersed the dust of the rippio behind my bike.

Once on Routa 40, we rode many miles in two tire track ruts surrounded somewhat deep gravel.  The road was straight as an arrow, as far as the eye could see, with scraggy brush extending to both sides of the horizon.  First it was brown and as we headed south, it became greener and greener.  It was easy going, but it was a bit mesmerizing and if we weren’t careful, we could find ourselves wandering out of the tire tracks and in the deeper gravel.  That itself wasn’t really bad, but the wind was well and truly up which made recovery from the gravel all the more difficult.

We also had to keep our wits about us due to wild and unfenced animals.  Cows and bulls roam free on the plains, as well as other plains animals like horses, sheep, foxes and rabbits.   Sometimes they stay put at the side of the road and sometimes they bolt out right in front of you.  Extra caution is necessary as you approach a heard or even a single stray animal.  You really don’t know what they are going to do and help is pretty far away if something were to happen.

After about 5 hours of riding, we came upon a large lake.  It was a sight to see, for we had been on open plains for days and had not seen a large body of water for quite some time.  It was quite beautiful and we had to stop to take some pictures.  We were getting a bit goofy since we were happy to see the lake, know that we were nearing El Chalten, our destination for the day, and that we were reaching pavement for the first time in days.  It was just a strange brew of feelings poured into a single cocktail which we had apparently gulped down on empty stomachs.  We were silly happy but we knew we were going to be somewhat sad once we got back on the pavement.

About an hour later, there it was; the pavement.   It was indeed smooth, wide and it did indeed have excellent road markings.  Oh crud, where’s the adventure in that?  As a bit of an offset, the plains began to rise and turn into mountains.  Green scrub turned into hills which turned into rock.  Ultimately, the closer we got to El Chalten, the more we were surrounded by towering mountains; mountains with glaciers even.  The thought of seeing the glaciers raised my spirits, and I was looking forward to seeing them.  We stopped a couple of times to take some pictures but now the clouds were descending and the clouds had obscured some of the mountains from sight.  Bummer!  We did catch occasional glimpses of the end of a glacier, but nothing spectacular.

As we got closer to El Chalten, the temperature started to drop rapidly.  In fact, it sort of started to plummet.  The clouds that had started to lower, now appeared to be racing for the ground.  Ice pellets were being flung from the cloud’s bottom and we knew we had to make a run for El Chalten before it really began to snow in earnest.  We picked up the speed a bit and rolled on by a large lake complete with icebergs freely floating about.  However, with the weather rapidly worsening, the only thing to do was to take a one handed snapshot from the handlebar of the bikes as we motored on past hoping to make it to El Chelten before the road coated with snow and ice.

It was becoming darker and the road was now wet.  We were trying to beat the weather but it wasn’t clear who would win this race.  Helmets down on the tank to beat the freezing snow/rain mixture, we made our way towards El Chalten.  Cold, wet, and wind blown, we made it into town with minutes to spare.  The wind started to really gust and we hightailed it to our little hotel.  We quickly unloaded our bikes in the wind and snow and made our way into the warm hotel.  It was a great feeling to be out of the wind and snow/rain.

So as I peeled off my riding gear I thought to myself, maybe it wasn’t so bad riding pavement on the last part of the day, for surely we wouldn’t have made it into town before the real snow and wind hit had we been on the rippio all day.  So there it was, we could have adventure on pavement!  I should have known better!  With that thought, I was stoked, for tomorrow was a non-riding day and we would be exploring the hiking/climbing town of El Chalten where we’ll take you in part 8.

Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 6)

We overnighted in Perito Moreno in a drab little hotel room with bars over the one tiny window.  It was dark and dingy, but it was warm and dry so we had no complaints.  Striking out fairly early in the morning, we were soon out of the town limits and back on the gravel of Routa 40.  The sun was brightly shining in a bright blue sky with some puffy white clouds.  The road surface was fairly firm with some loose gravel strewn about, but overall it was easy going.  The wind was up once again with a steady 30+ MPH wind blowing from a single direction.  The upside was that the constant dust that had been our companion earlier was now destined to blow directly to the side out of whomever followed.  It was a nice break from eating dust.  However, necks soon became tired and sore from holding a crab against the wind.  So it was a tradeoff of sorts, dust for neck ache.  Hmm… which was better?

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

The gravel seemed endless.  While the scenery was beautiful, there were long stretches of straight, unrestricted view plains that ran until they were blocked by surrounding mountains.  Sight planes disappeared in a “V” in front of us as the seemingly endless gravel road continued unabated and without a twist or turn.  Every once in a while, we would reach the mountains that had previously been long in the foreground but were now immediately in front of us.  This gave us the opportunity to lean the bikes a bike and twist the throttles.  Kim especially took the opportunity to wick it up a bit, her confidence growing after riding in the wind for a couple of days.

Sooner than we knew it, we had made it through that mountain’s passes and were back on the plains gravel with fields of grasses surrounding us, wind blowing and miles of straight gravel road in front of us.  So straight in fact that as we made our way toward Tres Lagos (Three Lakes) we came upon a sign that directed us towards three different towns, 16, 246, and 345 kilometers away.  The thing was, they were arrowed all straight ahead.  Guess that road was really going to be straight for a while eh?

Covering such distances with only your thoughts and the wide open spaces gives you time to think.  Think about the beauty that surrounds you, about how lucky you are to have this wonderful circumstance that you are able to travel the world and see things like this unhindered and unfettered by day to day tribulations.  It really makes you humble.  Over the comms, I told Kim how I was feeling and we decided to take a few minutes to stop and just soak it all in.

There we were, somewhere in the middle of Argentina with nothing around us for miles and miles but open fields surrounded by mountains, blue skies and fluffy white clouds.  Frankly, it was a wonderful few moments in time.  It was like we were on our own little planet and we were so thankful to be there.  But it was quite strange, we didn’t feel like we needed to keep it for ourselves, we felt like we needed to share it with everyone, hence the couple of pictures you see in the gallery here.  You’ll know which ones I’m talking about when you see them.

After about twenty minutes of awe, gawking and picture taking, we got back on the bikes for the final leg of our ride to the Estancia La Angostura, a working ranch (estancia).  We hit several zones of construction which made the going a bit slow in places but was not difficult.  But it did bring to mind that Routa 4o is changing and that the gravel will soon turn to pavement.  So if you would like to ride Routa 40 in its gravel state, do it soon, because change is coming (for the better of the people of Argentina).

Another two hours on the rippio and we found a small sign announcing our arrival but the estancia was nowhere to be seen.  All that was nearby was a gravel and sand two track leading off Routa 40.  Since there were no other signs and Routa 40 continued on straight ahead for miles, we followed the little gravel two track for about two miles and there it sat, the Estancia La Angostura.  Surrounded by cypress like trees and wrapped in bushy like vegetation it was a haven from the continuous winds.  Once inside the surrounding trees and bushes, the wind was almost non-existent.

The estancia itself did indeed look like a ranch house.  A long plain white washed building with no-nonsense windows, you could see it was made for work and not for style.  Still, it had a natural beauty as it blended into its surroundings and seemed to be perfectly in place with all that surrounded it.

Inside it was even better.  The tools and necessities of ranch life adorned the walls and tables.  An old coffee grinder here, a saddle there, a set of bolo balls hung from the walls as well as a well worn and abused revolver.  Each was capable of telling a story of its life on the plains of Argentina and the work that it had done in making the Estancia La Angostura successful.

We walked around a bit and were shown to our room.  It was a modest bunk room with little adornment.  However, the people had done their best to make it cheery and leave their marks.  Although the walls were bare, without even sheet rock to cover the walls studs, the insulation’s batting had been decorated with multiple handprints.  The handprints were in different colors and were all over the wall.  It made for a very nice personal touch and gave you the feeling that folks who had done hard work lived in the room and you were now their honored guests.  It was quite comforting.

Before we knew it, it was time for dinner.  Once again it was to be an asado of lamb and sausage.  We walked to the dining hall where in the corner, an entire lamb was skewered and slowly cooking.  We sat waiting for dinner to cook chatting with friends and drinking some wine when the owners came in with their pet dog and their other pet; a lamb!  It was a strange feeling seeing your lamb dinner cooking on a skewer and then the owners come in with their pet lamb!  But this one was special, it had been abandoned by its mother and had become their house pet.  It would never see the skewer!

We had a marvelous dinner and soon were off to bed for the next days ride to El Chalten the climbers paradise, where well take you in Part 7.

Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 5)

Having enjoyed hugely comfortable digs for a couple of days we were ready to make our way toward Esquel.   We’d be traversing some mountain roads, but it was to be easy going with smooth pavement all the way.  But we did have some nice twisties and a few nice stops with overlooks.  We could tell that we were truly enjoying the trip since we were bypassing the opportunity to stop and take pictures at some pretty beautiful spots.  It’s just that there were so many opportunities to see them, we had to force ourselves from becoming jaded to all that we were seeing and were still to see.

We breezed along the mountain roads swooping and gliding, powering up steep inclines and gliding down the backs.  There was great joy in twisting the throttles and rolling the bikes side to side.  Magic.  Our bikes and our bodies flowed with the earth and easily followed its contours.  It was as if the mountain had a giant magnet under its road and our bikes were magnetically bonded to the earth as were we to the bikes.  We passed beautiful valleys hemmed in by great mountains and made few stops along the way.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

Because of this, our first stint of the day on the bikes was fairly long, we had lost track of the time.  One such stop was for lunch.  We often packed power bars and some fruit in our top boxes for an easy and quick snack.  Kim remembered that she had stored a banana in her top box and was ready to eat it for her lunch’s dessert.  But we’d done quite a bit of riding that day and the sun was beating down on us and the bikes.  In addition, the banana had worked its way to the bottom of Kim’s top box where it had been bouncing about with all her other gear for most of the day.  When she opened her top box and searched for her banana, she found on the bottom, a fine banana and dust puree a mixture.  Eww!!!

So we cleaned up her top box and got to the business of eating lunch and taking a few pictures.  There were some local flowers that we took a few photos of and before we knew it, we were back on the road.  Once again there were few pictures taken as we zoomed our way to Esquel.

It was a fairly long day in the saddle but time really did zoom by.  In fact, before we knew it, the sun was getting low on the horizon by the time we reached the border of Esquel.  We were fairly tired by the time we reached our motel which was like a little hacienda at the outskirts of town.  Complete with wooden rail fences and a central square area in the interior it was a great place to stop and catch 40 winks before we once again got back onto the rippio (gravel) on the famous Routa (Route) 40.

The following morning dawned nearly overcast, the few breaks overhead letting the sun’s warmth through occasionally.  Our spirits however were on high since today we were going to ride the rippio of Routa 40, famous for making its way southward to Ushuia and also for the Patagonian winds that blow.  We were about to find out what both were like on the first day our journey over its length.

Shortly after leaving Esquel, we made our way onto Routa 40 and the rippio.  The towns gave way to large open plains of tall grasses.  Some were populated with cattle and horses while others were empty and open for as far as the eye could see.   About an hour into the ride, we spied a splash of color, pink color, not too far off the road.  Two pink flamingos, not lawn ornaments, but the real things, stood as a pair, wading in a marshy area.  I said to Kim over the intercom, that we weren’t in the States any more and there was the proof.

Shortly after we passed the flamingos, the wind began to pick up.  Lightly at first, but then more steadily until it became intense.  Severe is the word that comes to mind.  A consistent 30 – 40 MPH wind that gusted even higher making the riding quite challenging.  We would get accustomed to the steady wind leaning the bikes and our bodies into the wind causing the bike to take on a significant lean just in order to ride straight.  A gusting of wind would require even more lean just to stay on course.  Complicating things even more was when the gust would stop, we’d have to quickly take out the lean or risk falling off.  It was quite an interesting and tiring riding situation.  But after riding a few hours in these conditions we were becoming accustomed to it and riding became more easily to us.

About half way into the riding day, we came upon our first of many Gauchito Gil shrines.  We would come to find that these shrines were all over Routa 40 and were filled with drinks, money, cigarettes, gifts, prayers and requests for help.  The shrines in memory of Gaucho Gil and if you are interested, you can learn a bit about it here:

Gauchito Gil

We stopped at several shrines and took some pictures and also took the time to get a measure of the wind.  It’s difficult to explain the Patagonian winds.  They’re really something you have to experience for yourself.  Here’s a bit of a taste of how insistent they really are…

Roadside Patagonia Winds from Mike & Kim Botan on Vimeo.

Back on the road, we made our way towards the town of Perito Moreno and our stop for the evening.  We came upon this rather interesting sculpture.  At first we couldn’t make out what it was, but when we referred to the drawing at its base, it became clear what it was.  It was pretty cool now that we knew what to look for and we enjoyed finding it in the middle of what was pretty open and deserted spaces.  After another couple of hours on the road, in the distance, we could make out Perito Moreno.  Tomorrow we’d be heading for a working estancia (ranch) out on the plains with no communications to the outside world.  It was a marvelous place and we’ll tell you all about it in Part 6.

Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 4)

We rolled into Bariloche in quickly gathering darkness.  Up a paved road past some houses and a barking dog who chased us for a short distance.  Not to long thereafter, we found the sign for the hostel we were to call home for the next two nights.  The road into the hostel was dirt and lazily curved and climbed the hostel grounds.  We finally came to the place where we were told to leave our bikes which was not level and had deep random holes surrounded by tree roots.  Kim attempted to dismount her bike  in the dark and for the first time on this many thousand mile trip, dropped her bike.  She was bumming big time since she rarely drops her machine.  But it turns out that as she pulled up, there was earth below her right foot, but nothing below her left but a significant eight inch drop and a tree root.  She semi fell and hopped off her bike and emerged only with a damaged ego.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

By now it was fully dark and we were unloading our night’s gear from the bikes.  We walked down the hill to the room where we would be staying.  The owner unlocked the door for us turned on the light and wished us a good night.  As we walked inside, we found a very nice apartment!  We were not expecting anything like this, it was indeed a small house and we were inhabiting the entire downstairs.  We had a bedroom, kitchen, livingroom, bathroom and even a nice porch.  We were psyched!  We couldn’t see the outside surroundings, but the inside was certainly nice.

In the center of the hostel yard was a dining area where were to be served a home cooked asado dinner by the hostel’s owners who happened to be South African expatriates.  Dinner time was not too far off and we sat down with several of our friends for a nice home cooked asado accompanied by some nice Argentinian Malbec.  Mmmm…. it was good.  Good food, good company, good stories and good wine.  What a great way to top off the evening and a great day.  Before we knew it, it was almost midnight and we wearily dragged ourselves back to our little apartment.  Tuckered out from a long days ride, terrific food and perhaps a bit too much Malbec, we were really ready for the sack.  We just dropped into bed and were almost immediately sound asleep.

The following morning dawned bright and sunny and we were anxious to see what was outside our little apartment.  We were not disappointed.  We did indeed have a nice little house surrounded by trees and shrubs with other small houses nicely situated not too far away.  There was even a little man made reflecting pond with flowing water.

After a quick breakfast, we got onto our bikes and rode out into the surrounding countryside.  We came into the town of Llao Llao and rode around its beautiful lake and some of the surrounding mountains.  There was a small turnoff at one particularly beautiful overlook and there were several school buses with children ages from about 10 to 15.  They giggled and ran and played at the roads edge and took pictures of each other at the not so significant drop off overlooking the lake and the mountains behind.  It was a time for all to enjoy what nature was offering and the kids were keen on doing their best to enjoy it.  We milled around with them and soon we had integrated into their little group.  They were a bit curious about our Aerostiches, but they did offer to take our picture as we did for them.

Soon their teachers called for them to get back on the busses and we were almost alone at the roadside overlook.  The view was all the more exquisite in the peace in quite that now enveloped us.  We lolligagged around a bit longer and soaked it all in until it too was time for us to be on our way.  It was lunch time and we found a small out of the way restaurant and enjoyed a nice slow Argentinian lunch.  This trip was clearly becoming a journey of contentment.  With all the mountains in the area you might imagine that there would be ski resorts around and indeed there were.  The resort had an almost European feel with chair lifts operating and out-door places to eat and view the mountain scenery.

With some more riding, we headed back a little early into Bariloche itself for a quick look at the town and to pick up some supplies for dinner that night.   We bought that staple of travelers everywhere, pasta, and of course, some more Malbec to go with it.  Some cheese and crackers and we had a complete and ready to go dinner that was quick and could be made with little fuss and few ingredients.   As we got to the check out, I struggled a bit with my Spanish, but I was able to pay the correct amount (I think) and we left to return to the hostel.

Before dinner, we did a bit of cleaning and attempted to clean off some of the dust from the road.  There was plenty of it and it took us a good hour to get everything fairly spic and span.  By the time we had finished it was dinner time and we embarked on the journey to make our pasta dinner.  We had most everything we needed.  A deep pot, a colander, a smaller pot for some sauce, some spoons for stirring and a couple of forks.  But what we didn’t have were any pot holders.  Dang it!  But Kim being the resourceful soul that she is, simply said, no worries and broke out her riding gloves and we were immediately provided with two insulated pot holders.  Bravo!

Ultimately, we were able to get the pasta served, our cheese, crackers and wine ready and sat down at the table next to the outdoor porch.  We looked outside and to our dismay saw we had an interloper.  A good sized bird perhaps about a foot tall, waited on the rail of the porch looking for some handouts.  He cawed at us and jumped around on the rail.  When I opened the sliding door to the porch he would fly off, only to return.  I wanted to leave him/her some pasta, but he/she would always fly away.  Hmm… come to think of it, perhaps it wasn’t the pasta he/she wasn’t interested in, could it have been the Malbec?

I’ll never know what was on his/her mind, because he/she didn’t come back after about the fourth attempt.  So we were left to eat our dinner in peace and have a nice quiet evening.  Tomorrow we would head to Esquel and the beginning of the famous Ruta 40 and the infamous and fierce Patagonian winds.  We knew they could be strong, but we’d really underestimated their ferocity.  We’ll tell you all about it in Part 5.

Ride2Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 3)

Filled to the brim with Aurelia’s tasty empanadas, we wobbled over to the bikes for another few hours riding.  We were quickly on the gravel and entered a national forest which winded its way alongside some beautiful mountains.  We were at times completely covered by canopies of trees that made it appear that it was early evening as we traversed patches of mud from rain that hadn’t dried from who knows how long ago.  Still it was great riding and the air smelled clean and fresh if not a bit humid even in the chill of the shadows.

We bumped along happily until we hit our first stretch of construction.  The road was completely closed and what little traffic there was sat and waited while the graders, backhoes, loaders and dump trucks did their work.  Some of the delays were quite short, just a minute or two, others were half an hour long or so.  The work being done was quite impressive with large stone walls being created by sorting, fitting and piling rocks into “cages” of gigantic chicken wire like boxes.  The rocks were well placed and there were few gaps between them.  It looked as though they had been cemented together when in fact they had only been sorted and piled into the wire.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

What is really nice about being on a long adventure ride is that you really don’t “have” to be anywhere other than to get to the place where you are going to lay your head for the night.  So it was no big deal for us to wait for the construction to finish.  We had the opportunity to chat with other folks waiting in line and walk around a bit, take in the sights and enjoy the fresh air.  So these little “impositions” in actuality increased the adventure of the trip somewhat.  We met new people and saw sights that we might have bypassed if we had not been held up by the delays.

When we had cleared the last construction delay of the day, we were almost at the end of the forest and had the opportunity to turn the speed up a bit.  The problem was that it was extremely dusty.  Plumes of solid grey arose from the bikes tires and when a car or a truck (think construction vehicle) came from the opposite direction, it was a complete grey out for a significant length of time.

The dust rose in giant plumes with cauliflower heads that rose quickly and seemed to hang in front of you refusing to return to the earth from which they had sprung.  Entering them was like diving into a vat of grey water.  At first it yielded to your presence as your body left its impression on the face of the cloud.  However, almost immediately, the cloud would recover its form and envelope you in a murky and misty grey nothingness where forward vision was all but lost.  Our best bet for forward navigation was to look slightly forward and down for the road surface was about the only clear sight to be seen with everything else appearing only as ghostly shadows.  Not a pleasant thought when you know that construction vehicles may be coming from the other direction.

Luckily for us, the heavy dust continued for only 10 miles or so, and the road turned more to the hard gravel surface it had been earlier in the day.  That was a good thing since it was already getting later in the afternoon , the sun was starting to obscure vision and we’d rather not end up riding in the dark.  We had come across too many wild and roaming cattle, horses, goats, sheep and dogs to feel comfortable riding with such reduced visibility.

We were determined to get to our stop for the night before dark but not so determined as to dismiss the beauty of the surrounding area.  We were crossing a modern concrete and steel bridge when we noticed the old wooden bridge that it had replaced.  It had been a multiple span bridge and the center span had long since fallen into the river.  But the remaining spans framed by the mountains in the background and the still water, created a picture opportunity that could not be missed.  So we stopped and got off the bikes to take some pictures of the awesome sight before us.  While we stood on the modern technology of the concrete and steel bridge, the beauty and grace of the old bridge still reflected its brilliance upon the land.

After some oohing and ahhhing, we were back on the bikes only to come across a bridge that combined the two mediums of the new and old bridge we had recently passed.  This one was composed of concrete and steel, yet had wooden decking and so combined the two eras together.  Once again it made for a nice picture and of course we had to get one of us crossing the bridge over the River Mayo.

This day was becoming rather memorable for its sights and lack thereof in the dust.  But sunlight was indeed running out and we needed to get to our room for the night in San Carlos de Bariloche.  We did not know what our little room was going to look like, and when we finally arrived it was nearly dark so we weren’t able to see what our digs for the night looked like from the outside.  Let’s just say we were not disappointed.  We’ll tell you all about it in Part 4.


Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 2)

Villarica’s peak still puffed white smoke into the chilly early morning air as we prepared our bikes for the first real riding of the journey to the Fin del Mundo; the end of the earth.  Both Kim and I were quite excited to get under way and I was quite impatient to get started.  Gear sorted on our rented BMW F650GS twins we rolled out of the parking lot, puffs of steam from our mouths in the cold Chilean air replicating the puffs of smoke from Villarica.  Today we would have a short hop on pavement but would soon be on the gravel and headed towards our first border crossing into Argentina.  Our trip would take us across the Argentine and Chilean borders several times, but that was part of the fun for this trip.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

As we made our way on smooth pavement, we were greeted by green scenery and farms of various sizes.  Flowers and plants were in full bloom even though it was November.  Getting used to all the rich colors of flowers took some getting used to.  Where we had come from, the bright color palette of many different flowers and plants had long since dwindled to browns and greys in anticipation of the upcoming cold New Hampshire winter.  But here, the flowers and plants were just reaching their stride, full blooms with bright colors reached towards the sun as if summer would never end.  Already, our surrounding environment had us wishing this journey would never end.

The day took on a bit more overcast look as we approached the Argentine border.  To match the darkening skies, the road conditions changed from smooth pavement to rough and loose gravel.  It became quite apparent that we were approaching some mountains and we’d be riding through the mountains on gravel roads.  The surface was fairly good but quite dusty.  Clouds of dust rose quickly and obscured vision if we rode too closely together.  We decided to give each other a fair amount of spacing since we wanted to be able to see the sights as we trundled along the gravel.

After about an hour of riding, we found our first new experience in the form of the Monkey Puzzle Tree.  A cross between what appeared to be a cactus and a Douglas Fir tree, the Monkey Puzzle tree was indeed a bit of a puzzle.  Thick spiny needles protruded from branches and trunk of the young trees.  Mature trees were over 75 feet tall with very large green spines.  They were indeed puzzling, were they cacti or trees?  Well they were trees and they were quite cool.  Apparently the locals thought so as well since the roads were sometimes split by them with each lane going on either side of the tree.

Riding sometimes steep climbs and descents, we winded our way over and around these gravel mountain roads.  Beautiful scenery passed us by on both sides of the road.  Mountains surrounded us as we wended our way through forests in uninhabited areas for many miles.

Having ridden three hours on gravel, suddenly, as if someone had just turned on a pavement machine, we were off the gravel and on pavement.  It was not long before we began to see small farms with livestock and signs of people.  It was not long before we arrived in the town of San Martin de Los Andes.  San Martin de Los Andes sat near the base of the Andes and the rim of a large beautiful lake.  It had a bit of a tourist feel to it and as a result, had all the amenities of a small city.  Stores, restaurants, banks, cars, busses etc. were all present.  It had a true hustle and bustle feel.  A tiny city connected only by gravel roads on both ends.  We made use of the ATM to pick up some Argentine currency and were quickly on our way.

Before we knew it, we were off the paved roads and back on the gravel and in the isolation of the Andes.  Once again climbing and descending, we rounded a corner and entered a flat area and there it was in front of us, Lanin, another active volcano.  Capped in snow it appeared as a stone giant dominating the skyline.  As Kim rode by, I could see just how big and powerful Lanin was.  Although Kim projects a strong and powerful presence, her form was overwhelmed and overcome by the sheer size of Lanin.  As she got closer to the monolith, Kim appeared to quickly vanish into the background of Lanin’s might; it was a quick lesson in humility of humankind versus nature.

Shortly after passing Lanin we arrived at the Argentine border where we met with a somewhat of a delay.  We spent over 3 hours at the border straightening out paperwork, but ultimately were able to clear the Aduana (Customs) and get underway.  This was to be our only delay at Customs for the entire trip, so we considered ourselves very lucky to cross as many borders as we did with only one significant delay.

With the border crossed and three hours lost, we had made it into Argentina with a wide open eyes and empty stomachs.  Happy faces searched the roadsides for signs of civilization and a place to eat, because by this time we were pretty hungry.  As we rode along, we noticed a string of roadside stands.  Hmm…  could this be a place to eat?

We pulled off the road and did a little investigating.  Yes indeed, some of the stalls had food and we were in for a treat.  One of the stands sold empanadas.  If you have not had an Argentine empanadas, you are really missing something.  They are pastries filled with meats such as pork, beef and chicken as well as cheese.  They are amazing!

In addition to this delicious food, we were treated to even more.  It turns out that our cooks consisted of three generations of women who had been cooking empanadas at the roadside in this very stall.  The matriarch of the family was Aurelia and although my Spanish is poor, we chatted a bit about her empanadas stand and how long she’d been there.  She even brought out a magazine article in which she and her family were showcased for their longevity and the deliciousness of  their empanadas.  Well we’re here to tell you that they deserved every bit of print they received and we’ve yet to find empanadas anywhere near as good as the ones we had at Aurelia’s little roadside stand in Argentina.

We still had a fair amount of riding to do for the day, but we’ll tell you about that in Part 3.


Glen Heggstad

It seems almost fitting that we start off with a rider, world traveler, motivational speaker and one of the most amazingly strong hearted individuals I have ever met; Glen Heggstad.  Glen has led a life of significant twists and turns that could have led him down a patch of destruction.  However, Glen was able to convert all of this adversity into positive influences for himself and the people he met as he circumnavigated the world.

Two separate books, Two Wheels Through Terror (a title he dislikes but was demanded by his publisher) in which his motorcycle trip from California to the tip of South America was interrupted when he was kidnapped and held hostage, and his second book One More Day Everywhere, chronicle his motorcycle circumnavigation of the planet.  Both books will hold you spellbound for different reasons.

Two Wheels Through Terror for Glen’s ability to deal with adversity and his will to continue and One More Day Everywhere for the excitement of navigating the entire planet on a motorcycle and visiting people and places that some would not dare.  All in the quest to meet the people of the planet.

Glen has been so touched by the people and places he’s visited, he donates 100% of his book royalties to charitable organizations.  You can puchase Glen’s books from the Ride2ADV Gear Store by clicking HERE or at his website directly.

From Glen’s website @ www.strikingviking.net:

For half a century, it’s been a rocky road of contrasting lifestyles for Glen Heggstad. Growing up in San Francisco and influenced by Jack Keroauc’s novel On The Road led to hitchhiking across the US at the age of sixteen. Toggling between living in the streets and foster homes, a rebellious Glen followed the sentiments of his high school teachers who warned of winding up behind bars—he did: handlebars. And then into life of an outlaw biker.  By age twenty-seven he had retired from the Hells Angels motorcycle club.

In 1979, Heggstad committed to full time martial arts training, eventually earning Black Belt teaching credentials in: Chinese Kung Fu, Shotokan Karate, Japanese Judo and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. During thirty-three years of devoted practice, he’s earned numerous titles in International championships while training troubled youths to believe in themselves via similar paths in martial spiritual development. But because of his Norwegian heritage, a lust for travel runs deep in his Viking blood.

Looping the planet four times over the last three decades, Heggstad has sought unique adventures wandering through fifty-seven developing countries via chicken buses, riverboats, by foot and even by elephants. From twice trekking the Himalayas to the jungles of South America where he was taken prisoner in the Colombian civil war, Heggstad’s crowning achievement became a multi-year solo motorcycle odyssey around the earth as chronicled in his second book One More Day Everywhere. From the wilds of Siberia and the Mongolian Gobi Desert to zigzagging the Middle East through the West Bank, Israel, Pakistan and India, to the length of Africa, Heggstad rode into one challenging experience after another.

Glen has encountered generous hospitality on nearly every level imaginable from Gobi Desert Nomads, to the cannibals of Indonesia and Middle Eastern Bedouin tribes, to later surviving for weeks on cows blood mixed with honey on the Ethiopian savannah. Being equally at home with city folk, simple villagers and primitive tribesmen, enhanced his empathy for those still struggling. This compelled him to donate 100% of his book royalties to international aid organizations committed to building schools in the developing world.

Now channeling energies into motivational speaking about achievement and goal orientation, he uses lessons gleaned from the martial arts competition arena and adventure travel to encourage others to better their lives and enhance their careers.


Alaska – Gravel, Grandeur & Goofy Grins (Final Chapter)

Seward’s spectacular ocean beauty and sea life had left us slack jawed with amazement. It seemed that each time we went to a new location in Alaska, there was another gorgeous scene ready to unfold directly in front of us. But this day, there was another reason for our slack jaws and now droopy pouts. Today, we were to head back to Anchorage to end our Alaskan and Canadian Yukon adventure.

We had seen so much and met so many wonderful people, that we were indeed quite sad to be beginning the end of our journey. So with really heavy hearts and quite furrowed brows, we packed the bikes and headed northwest towards Anchorage. I can honestly say that the pace was purposely slow and the bike to bike communications between Kim and I were at an all time low; each of us lost in our thoughts and remembrances of the journey we had just experienced.

As we made our way to Anchorage, we took a meandering route to extend our time a bit more. The roads slowly and quietly hissed under our tires, interrupted only by the crunch of gravel and slight wobble of handlebars as we made our way over several sections of road under construction. Each time I was almost immediately returned to the hundreds of miles of gravel we had just covered. Soaring mountains capped with snow, glaciers creaking, groaning and calving new icebergs into a churning sea, wild animals roaming free and unafraid of man, soaring birds and amazing scenery could have conspired to effortlessly lift me from the bike and forever transform me from an itinerant observer to a permanent part of the landscape. I’d just become another part of what is the amazing natural life force that is Alaska. And if it had, I would have welcomed it.

But Alaska did not reach out and grab either Kim or me and we rolled into Anchorage late in the evening, very tired and each upset that our adventure was over. We’d get up leisurely in the morning, grab breakfast and ride over to the shipping agent. There we would unload our gear from the bikes and pack it in our suitcases for the plane ride home. We’d grab a cab back to the hotel and the following afternoon, catch a flight back to Boston and then drive home to NH. The agent would then crate the bikes up and send them home to NH.

The following morning dawned with decent weather and we walked to the Golden Corral near the hotel for breakfast. Believe it or not, Kim loves Golden Corral. Really! She had a hearty breakfast and I enjoyed seeing her enjoy it so that brightened the morning a bit. Well I thought to myself, that’s going to be the highlight of the day.

We walked back to the hotel and jumped on the bikes for the ride over to the shipping agent. We offloaded the bikes and took a few moments to take stock of our situation. Our two little trusty steeds had indeed done an excellent job and performed admirably. Kim’s Suzuki DR650 and my KTM 640A never missed a beat in over 2,400 miles of pavement and gravel riding. To be precise, they covered 2,430.1 miles with over 900 (almost 1,000) of that being on gravel. They hauled a pretty heavy load including the riders, their riding gear, survival equipment and camping equipment.

Not once did they sputter, stall or break down. They carried us through torrential rains, deep mud, asteroid sized gravel and did not so much as cough. The were filthy, covered in dust, mud, and the Denali and Dempster Highway’s calcium chloride.  If you are not familiar with it, calcium chloride, is sprayed on dirt roads as a dust preventative.  It is slippery as snot when wet and almost impossible to remove once dried. In fact, years later, there’s still traces of it on Kim’s DR’s exhaust.

Nonetheless, these two trusty machines carried on without complaint.  The least we could do was give them a quick wash before boxing them up for the long journey home.  So we did.  The cleansing process helped ameliorate some of my dour mood and washed away some of my angst.  The physical contact with the machine and the slow rubbing, scrubbing and rinsing that was necessary to remove only the top layers of grime was like a balm to my raw feelings of having to leave; and in some way, I got the feeling that the bikes felt better too.

Rinsed and ready for crating, we rode the bikes back to the agents and got a taxi to the hotel.  There we sat in the room wondering what to do with ourselves until the following afternoon.  It was not more than twenty minutes when the phone rang.  It was Tracy, the gent who sought us out in Dawson City and whose acquaintance we had made only as a result of a conversation we had with a couple we met in front of Mt. McKinley.

Tracy lived in Eagle River. a town just outside of Anchorage.  He knew we were headed out of town the following day, but wondered if we would like to go for a ride with him and his wife MaryLee today.  Damn!  We had just dropped the bikes off at the shipping agents and they were probably already well on their way to being crated I told him.  I think Tracy could hear the despair in my voice because he immediately said, “That’s not a problem, my brother Chuck has plenty of bikes and he can lend you both one!”

Well I don’t smile with my teeth showing much, but in this case Kim immediately knew something was up and asked what was making me smile so much.  I told her and almost immediately her expression matched mine.  Two Cheshire Cat grins coming right up!  We immediately jumped into the rental car and drove to Tracy’s house.  We got the nickel tour and headed over to his brother Chuck’s house.  He had a fine collection of bikes.  Chuck said, “Choose one.”  Yikes!  It was difficult to choose, but ultimately, I chose his R100RS PD and Kim chose his R/65GS.  They  were great machines.

Before we knew it we were off and riding as a group.  We rode through beautiful mountain scenery and some awesome horse country in the Matanuska Valley.  Then we headed over to Hatchers Pass where we took a brief ride into the pass but were forced to turn back due to poor road conditions.  We then headed over to a most unusual Alaskan farm.   What’s unusual about an Alaskan farm you may ask?  Well how about if the farm grows musk oxen?  They are indeed unusual creatures.  Raised for their fur which is very warm, they are quite large, sound like tigers when they vocalize and can be quite aggressive when provoked.  They were very interesting animals.

We spent an excellent day just wandering around Alaska and before we knew it, it was time to return the bikes to Chuck.  Little did we know it, but he had one more surprise waiting for us.  When he arrived he showed us his beautiful Ural sidecar rig and literally insisted that we take it for a ride.  Who were we to argue?  So we jumped on with me as the “driver” and Kim as the passenger.  It was a blast for me.  As for Kim, I don’t think she was as amused as I was.  I had never piloted a sidecar rig and with changes in power, the bike changed direction somewhat.  So as we made our way down the road, we also made away across the road.  While I had the huge grin, Kim had the worried, I hope I survive fake smile on.  But she is a trooper and came through with flying colors (and uninjured I might add).

More quickly that we could imagine, the riding day was over and we had to say goodbye to Tracy, MaryLee and Chuck.  They had made our last full day in Alaska a wonderful day instead of a downer.  We still cherish our friendship with Tracy and MaryLee to this day and even went on another trip with them which you’ll hear about in another article.  After many goodbyes, we got into the rental and drove back to the hotel to catch some sleep and get ready for the next day’s flight.

When the following morning dawned, we had reconciled ourselves to the fact that we were leaving Alaska.  We grabbed breakfast and Kim was once again in her glory at the Golden Corral.  Tracy and MaryLee knew that I was a pilot and mentioned that there was a seaplane base and an aircraft museum next to the airport that we could visit if we wanted to kill some time before our flight home.  So off we went and we watched seaplanes taking off and landing for a while.  While I have several “ratings”, I do not have a seaplane rating and watching them only increased my desire to get one.  Watching the bird get up on the sponsons and then break contact with the water was exciting as was watching them glide easily and smoothly onto the water’s surface, some more smoothly than others.

We then walked over to the museum and learned a bit about Alaskan aviation history and how much a role aviation plays in Alaska.  Not only did they have historic displays, they also had static displays of various aircraft from fully restored and flying to in need of restoration and in pieces.  It was all very interesting and a great way to spend the morning and early afternoon.

But before we knew it it was time to head to the international airport for the flight home.  We had spent the morning with small aircraft which do the day to day job of ferrying everyday Alaskans and their goods from point to point.  These aircraft are literally the lifeblood to many remote Alaskan communities.  It was similar to our small bikes on our journey.  They had carried us and our gear from point to point and provided us with the marvelous opportunity to observe some of Alaska and the Canadian Yukon.  We hope that someday we will be able to once again journey to Alaska and the Canadian Yukon and like Alaska’s small aircraft travel all over Alaska on our little motorcycles that can.


Alaska – Gravel, Grandeur & Goofy Grins (Part 10)

The captain moved the throttles full ahead and once again we were motoring towards our next destination, Aialik Glacier the largest glacier in Kenai fjords.  Unfortunately, we found that the ice was too thick in the bay to enter so we motored on towards the Holgate and the Surprise glaciers.  Along the way, we would be on the lookout for whales and if we found any, we would stop and observe them for a while.

It wasn’t long before we spotted our first pod of whales.  A small group of Humpback whales rolled and dived in front of us.  The captain pulled back the throttles and put the boat into idle.  We were now floating free and the whales seemed to enjoy the throbbing of the boat’s engines.  They slowly and easily swam over towards the boat and appeared to be as curious about us as we were about them.  Some swam right alongside the boat and rolled on their sides to view us as we leaned over the side of the boat to view them.

They seemed to revel in our wonderment of them.  They showed us gracefully sweeping and flowing tails that slowly rose and then glided below the surface.  Long white and barnacled pectoral fins slapped the water and rolled from side to side as they showed us their ribbed and streamlined undersides.  With slow dives they vanished from view and came back to us with blasts from their blow holes.  We watched their display for half an hour until they became bored with us and decided that something else was more interesting and they slowly swam away leaving us wanting more.

Showtime over, the captain again brought up the throttles and we were once again on our way towards the Holdgate glacier.   This boat had real power and we were moving with all due speed toward our destination.  A wide and churning white wake was left in our stead as we motored along.  Soon land and mountains came into view.  The mountains were snow and ice covered and before long, we started coming across small chunks of ice floating in the water.  They were of many different shapes and sizes called, from a foot or so to ten or so feet in diameter.  These smaller chunks of ice were affectionately known as “bergy bits”.

This could only mean that we were getting close to glaciers.  We didn’t have to wait much longer as a white wall of ice and snow known as the Holgate glacier came into view.  Far from smooth and stark white, it was a jagged, multi-colored sheet that seemed to have a life of its own.  It creaked, cracked and groaned.  Huge chunks fell and crashed off the sides creating gigantic splashes sending birds scurrying for cover and creating new icebergs or bergy bits.

As we got closer, a cold stiff wind blew directly off the glacier and straight at us.  It was bone chilling.  It was also continuous and steady causing us to bundle up if we wanted to stay outside and view the Glacier.  The wind seemed like a river of water flowing directly off the glacier  and that was exactly what it was.  It was the trapped super cooled air that literally flowed from the top of the glacier over the edge and down to the ocean, just like a waterfall.

Bundled up we stood at the boats rail while the captain maneuvered us around to get a better and closer look at the Holgate glacier.  Up close, we could see veins of different colors running through the glacier caused by the rocks and earth it had accumulated as it had scraped its way to the ocean’s edge.  There were also caverns and cracks of significant size, large enough for people to enter if they could walk on water.  It was truly an amazing force of nature.

Before we knew it, the captain told us over the loudspeaker that our time was up and we would have to head back to Seward.  He also said if he saw anything interesting we’d stop to take a look.  As he was turning the boat around, we rounded a part of the bay and lo and behold… there was another glacier.  Aptly named Surprise glacier it had gotten its name because it was only visible from certain angles such as the one we now had as we exited the bay.  It was not as mighty as the Holdgate glacier, but it was indeed exciting to be surprised by a glacier.  It was not something that one normally imagines could sneak up on them, but the Surprise glacier had done just that.    We roamed around the Surprise Glacier for about ten minutes and then the captain said we would be leaving for Seward again shortly.

Kim and I were getting cold and we headed back from the bow of the boat to the cabin to warm up.  Just as we were passing the pilot house, the captain who I had been chatting with earlier about my Kindle and our Alaskan adventure ride opened the door, said hello again and…

Asked me if I wanted to drive this 7,200 horse power twin engined 95 foot long boat back to Seward for a while.  Would I?  Would I?  Well hell yeah!  He then calmly told me that the power quadrant and thruster controls were all mine and to go for it.  He just said, “Don’t hit any of the big bergy bits, OK?”  Wahoo!!!   To say the least, I was thrilled.  And so it was for about twenty minutes of cruising back towards Seward.  But all good things must come to an end and in what seemed like just a few seconds, the captain asked for his ship back and I begrudgingly gave it back to him.

About 40 minutes later, we spotted more whales.  This time it was a pod of three Orcas.  It looked like two adults with an adolescent.  The merrily breached and blew their way along the ocean’s surface, moving fairly quickly and paying little attention to us or to the other boat that appeared to enjoy them as well.  It was great to see these wonderful creatures in their natural environment instead of in a captive setting.  The Orcas seemed to have a destination in mind and they had little time or interest in us so our time with them was quiet short.  They quickly were getting out of viewing range since it is illegal to chase the whales in Alaska.  But we were good with the time we had with them and this time we were heading back to Seward for real.

The remainder of the trip was a bit of a blur since we had enjoyed the day so much.  Before we knew it we were back at the dock and disembarking.  We were thrilled with the days events but a bit sad for it to be over.  The overwhelming feeling was one of thanks for having the means to go on such a wonderful adventure for we knew our time in Alaska was growing short.  Before we knew it, we would be heading back to New Hampshire.  But lucky for us, there were a few surprises to go and we’ll tell you about them in the final chapter.


Shrinking and Sharing The Planet Through Adventure Travel

A new private message arrived in my ADVRider email account and I opened it with unbridled anticipation.  You see, the message was in response to our listing on the “Tent Space” thread where we offer food and lodging in our home to adventure riding motorcycle travellers.   We’ve hosted travellers in our NH home from as far away as Australia and we’ve enjoyed every minute.  We’ve generated new friendships and been able to share a bit of our country with people from other parts of the world.

It turns out that this traveller was not from very far away, in fact he was from Brooklyn, NY.  He was finishing up a three week sortie of the Trans Labrador Highway, Newfoundland and Nova Scotia.  Awesome!  The Trans Lab loop was one of our favorite rides which we had last ridden 2007.  We were anxious to meet the rider, hear about the Trans Lab and what he experienced during this trip.

We emailed our potential guest back and told him that we would be delighted to have him come and stay with us.  We had a few back and forth contact emails and around 10:00 PM as we sat around the fire pit of our little VT getaway home, we could hear the familiar sound of a single cylinder motorcycle coming up our gravel mountain road.

We left our little fire and greeted our guest Ben Recchi.  What a great person.  We fed him some dinner since he hadn’t eaten in quite a while and had been on the road since early in the day.  We stayed up and chatted until well past midnight talking about the Trans Lab, his and our travels, where we’d been, what we’d seen and where we’d like to go.

It turns out that Ben had been to many other places on a bike, including Central America more than once.  To do so, he learned Spanish and was capable of communicating with the people he met.  This made his journey more enjoyable and helped him share a little about himself with the communities he came in contact with.   He really enjoyed Central America and said he would be happy to return.

We told him about our experiences and where we had been and a little about what we had seen.  We briefly discussed our trips to Ushuia, Iceland and the Trans American Trail and we all agreed that riding to different parts of the world was an excellent way to learn and share.  We probably could have talked longer, but it was getting late and Ben had to get back to Brooklyn and we were pretty tired.  So we all adjourned for a good night’s rest.

The following morning, we chatted some more over breakfast and found that we were all also MotoGP and Formula 1 fans.  Wow, another thing in common.  Ben had planned to leave fairly early in the morning but when I told him that I had DVR’d the MotoGP race, I was able to convince him that he should stay a while longer and at least watch the race with us.  With the remote and the skip commercial button, we could get the race watched and done in less than 45 minutes.

So we sat in the living room and watched the race together, commenting on what was happening in the race and the championship, who was going where at the end of the season and all the fun things that fans discuss when they are enjoying their sports of choice.  It was like having a long term buddy in our living room, not just someone we’d met the evening earlier.

So after the race was completed, the victor announced and the trophies handed out, Ben started to pack for his final leg of his three week journey.  We helped him load up his bike, took a few pictures of our new friend and wished him safe travels on his way home to Brooklyn.  It was with real regret that I watched him motor down my driveway and onto the gravel road down the mountain back towards his home in NY.

We had made a new friend and shared some mutual experiences.  We found much in common in the less than 24 hours that we shared together.  We broke bread together and learned about each other, all in the spirit of friendship and sharing that is brought about by adventure motorcycling.  What a great way to learn about other people and shrink the planet.  Although in this case Ben was not from a far away land, we did share and we did make a new friendship.  We were invited to come and visit him in his home when we came by his way.

So even though the distances between our respective homes was not great, I believe that the sharing that we did together did indeed…

Shrink The Planet, One Ride At A Time.

Get out there and shrink the planet a bit, please.


Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces – Final Chapter

We awoke in our small dark room to a steady soft rhythmic drumming on the roof of our rented cottage, the “Gold Miners Dream”.   Was it rain or the spirits of the gold miners of the past letting us know that they were still among us?  Perhaps a combination of both?  We brushed aside the curtains and found it was indeed raining again, the miners weren’t with us this time.  As the sky slowly grew lighter, it was time to get out of bed and pack the bike for the relatively long ride to Brier Island.

This ride would take us roughly two thirds the distance down the length of the Nova Scotia peninsula and across its width.  We’d also get a couple of ferry rides in before we ultimately made it to our destination, the Brier Island Lodge. But due to the rainy conditions, we’d have to work a bit to get there.

Because of the distance involved, we decided to put in a significant amount of highway miles, something we rarely do.  So on went the rain suits and as soon as we could hit the highway we were off and running.  Things were pretty mundane for the first three hours or so.  Just a moderate rain and some patchy fog here and there, but nothing special.  However, as we were riding down Route 103 we came across a couple of signs at the side of the road that said in capital letters; “ROAD FLOODED AHEAD” but no flag men, cruisers with flashing lights or other signs indicating a detour or any other significant hazard.

So we continued onward at about 30 MPH in a 100 KPH zone (62 MPH) waiting for the flooded highway.  Boy they weren’t kidding!  We found the area first as some large puddles so we slowed down to a crawl; it was a good thing.  As we slowly rode onward, the puddles turned into real water crossings.  Not inches deep but over a foot deep and getting deeper.

It was amazing to be on a four lane highway (two in each direction) creating a bow wave of water with the water covering two thirds of the front wheel.  Luckily, the deep flooding lasted only for about 500 yards and we were able to continue on.  We did have the highway to ourselves as we seemed to be the only ones on the road at the time.  Perhaps everyone else was smart enough to stay off the roads?  But we were due at Brier Island, and other than the flooding we experienced on Route 103, it was just a steady rain ride.

We ultimately reached Digby, Nova Scotia where we caught our first ferry.  While we were waiting for the ferry to depart, the rain slackened somewhat and I was able to snap a picture of Kim on her bike under the bridge of the ferry, aptly named Petit Princess.  The picture then was quite apropos, my petit princess on the deck of the Petit Princess.  Nice!

Unfortunately, the wind was up and the tide was going out.  Since the ferry ride was so short, there were no tie downs for the bikes and we just sat on them with outstretched legs and planted feet as the ferry’s engines spooled up to take us across the bay.  The ocean across to the next landing was very rough and as we chugged our way across, waves splashed over and across the bow.  Sheets of water flew above the rail while ocean spray rose from its remnants covering our Roadcrafter suits with salty water droplets.  It was another of nature’s reminders; she was still the boss when it came to man versus nature.

As the ferry lurched forward, we lurched in the opposite direction and strained to keep the bikes upright.  With every pitch and yaw of the ferry, we put in a counter input.  It was going to be a challenge just to keep the bikes upright for this crossing.  But that off road riding skill came in handy and we were able to keep the bikes upright for the first ferry journey.

The second ferry ride was much smoother and we made it onto Brier Island without much drama.  Since the island is so small, there’s not much riding to be had there, but it is a nice place to hang out and explore.  There are walking trails right from the lodge that you can take to the other side of the island as well as to the lighthouse on the island.

If you like to look for beach glass, it has the most remarkable beach glass beach we have ever had the opportunity to search.  Within a couple of hours, we had filled up a coffee can worth of quality beach glass and other beach baubles.  We found rusty gears, pottery, chains and other interesting brick-a-brack.

It was also fun to go for a walk through the downtown area.  On the day that we went, it was drizzling and foggy.  But it just gave the scene a bit of a soft, ethereal feel, like a soft cotton swaddling.  We were wrapped and comforted by the misty shroud.  Pictures we took had a soft fuzzy texture, the hard edges of day to day life erased by nature’s weather made cocoon.

While we were out and about, we found some sights to be enjoyed.  Some fishing boats nestled together in the fog, almost as to huddle closely together to share each others warmth, their brightly colored buoys hanging over their sides giving them each a different personality.  Then there were a stack of lobster pots, stacked as if waiting their turn to re-enter the sea and play their role in the cycle of nature.

Finally, there was evidence of mankind’s shortcomings.  As we walked back to the lodge, we passed a pickup truck.  Inside was a sign advertising its status for sale.  Unfortunately, the sign read, “House for Sale”.  Hmmm….

We walked back to the lodge and got a good nights rest.  When we awakened, the weather had cleared, but it was time to head home to NH.   Yes, our Trans Labrador and Atlantic Providences Adventure was truly coming to an end.  We grabbed a quick breakfast and took the two ferries back to Digby.  From there we headed to Yarmouth and caught the catamaran car ferry called The Cat.  A huge water jet ferry it could make the overnight crossing back to Portland, Maine in about 4 hours.  In so doing, it sent rooster tails of water 25 feet into the air.  It was an impressive sight, but it did indeed mark the end of this most excellent adventure.

Thanks so much for coming along on this ride.  We hope that you have enjoyed coming along with us and that we have inspired you to…

Shrink The Planet – One Ride At A Time


Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces (Part 8)

Before we could make it to Lunenburg, we had an intermediate stop in the small seaside town of Charlos Cove.  We were headed to a little inn called the Seawind Landing.  Right on the water with great places to beach walk as well as grassy lawns to sit and stare at the ocean it was a wonderful place to hang out.  To top it off, they had an excellent little restaurant with home cooked food and a nice wine selection.  This was definitely going to be our “high-end” stop for the trip.

Traveling over the very bumpy and sometimes grass filled roads, we made our way towards Charlos Cove.  The sky was bright blue with white puffy clouds seemingly racing us as we made our way to our destination.  Some were fairly low and as we made our way up and down ridges and hills, I could see their shadows as they floated and squirmed their way across the pavement.  They looked to be in a hurry to get somewhere but were relegated to moving in a straight lines.  Although they can fly, I wondered if they wished they could traverse the twisties with us instead of flying straight.  Were we clouds, it would a be a wonderful but tragic fate; to fly with the wind but be doomed to an unchangeable course set by it.

(By the way, if you click on any one of the pictures, a full size picture will open and you can then scroll through the entire gallery of pictures in full size in any direction.)

It was a long and bumpy ride, and by the time we reached our destination, we were pooped.  Saddlesore and tired, we were more than ready to get out of our gear and have a nice quiet dinner and grab some shuteye.  We unloaded our bags from the bikes and Kim normally quite resolute about long rides, said that the ride was so bumpy and filled with grass filled cracks, she’d almost have preferred to have ridden her dirt bike.

We were however, rewarded with a wonderful dinner, a room overlooking the ocean and a spectacular red sunset.  Thoroughly satiated, we hit the rack for a great night’s sleep and a lazy rest day.  We generally lay and sat about doing a bunch of nothing, reading, lounging in the Adirondack chairs in a grass covered field while taking in the sun and enjoying the day.  But it couldn’t last forever and around 2:00 in the afternoon clouds began to gather.  Shortly thereafter, the sky became grey and dark and a heavy rain shower began.

But it was just another beginning because it seemed like as suddenly as it had started, the skies began to clear and we were treated to a double rainbow and freshly scrubbed salty ocean air as the sun began to set.  In doing so, its light cast a warm golden glow upon a nearby island  and we sat and watched the end of a lazy perfect day.

The following morning we packed the bikes and headed towards Lunenburg for our actual destination, the Ovens Natural Park.  Owned by the Chapin family, (yes if you know of the singer Harry Chapin, it is indeed his family that owns the Ovens)  the Ovens is a combination campground (with rental cabins available), nature walk, sea cave exploring, and music wonderland.  Right on the ocean not far from Lunenburg, the Ovens allowed us to get to know a bit of Canadian life, enjoy the ocean, walk the beach and explore several caves that run right out to the ocean.

We took half a day walking the nature trails which wandered among the sea cliffs and led to the entrances of the sea caves.  There were beautiful views and paths that led directly into the caves for exploring.    The caves are called the Ovens, which is what they look from the outside from the sea; hence their name.

Around noon, we headed into Lunenburg and were lucky enough to arrive just in time for the arrival of a Canadian national icon, the Bluenose.  She was arriving into port with a full cannon salute and bagpipes piping.  A crowd was anxiously waiting on the dock for her arrival and many camera were raised to take photos of the Canadian icon returning to its home port.

We quickly parked the bikes and joined the crowd.   It was evident that there was a lot of pride in the Bluenose and it was great fun to be part of the crowd.  With the Canadian flag proudly flying from her middle mast she majestically glided into the dock to great fanfare.  Up close we could see that she was indeed a beautiful vessel, trim with sleek lines, a true portrait of the speedy racing ship that she was known and loved to be.

We took a few pictures of our own, chatted with a few people and decided to take a walk around Lunenburg to experience its sights and sounds.  Lunenburg is known to be a bit of an artists colony and it did not disappoint us one bit.  During its history, Lunenburg was a fishing town.  Although the fishing industry is no longer its main source of income, its heritage has not been forgotten.  As we walked down one of its main streets, we looked up at the street lamps and saw that they had been decorated with large, hand cut and hand painted metal fish of the Atlantic.  They were great.  Each light post had a different fish and they were in the fish’s actual colors.  It made us want to walk the length of the street just to see the different fish!

Wandering along the streets of Lunenburg, we were treated to many galleries, shops, restaurants and even a museum.  It was a grand afternoon of walking, visiting and just plain enjoying the sights, sounds and people.  But the sun was rapidly sinking and it was time to get back to the Ovens before dark.  We jumped back on the bikes and enjoyed a sea side setting sun ride back to our cabin.  It had been a great day and we were looking forward to tomorrow.  We had a fairly long ride to the tiny island off the coast Nova Scotia named Brier Island where we’ll take you in part 9.


Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces (Part 7)

We awakened to falling rain and fog.  Our foggy heads cleared quickly, but the fog and rain outside refused to do the same.  We resigned ourselves to more riding in the rain and reduced visibility, but that is part of the adventure isn’t it.  We were more disappointed that we would be missing scenery along the way to the ferry at Port Aux Basques.    Unfortunately, we didn’t see much for most of the ride, but as we approached the ferry, the rain did stop and visibility did increase somewhat.

Although the weather obscured the traditional scenery, we were in for a treat when the ferry arrived in port.  Out of the fog, a giant ghostly shadow appeared.  Moving slowly, it glided silently towards us with a nearly imperceptible rocking motion.  We knew it was a ship, but we couldn’t clearly make out any detail.  As it approached, it blew its horn and there was no doubt it was a large vessel.  Then out of the gloom we made out the blue, white and gold of the MV Caribou.  Although it was a very large vessel more than 565 feet in length, her impressive form glided more like giant kayak across the calm harbor waters than a ferry capable of carrying 1,200 passengers, 370 cars and 77 trucks.

Just as we thought she would pull into the dock and tie up, she gave us a special treat.  What we hadn’t noticed was that the vehicles entered and disembarked from the rear of the ship.  The Caribou was headed straight into the dock, so how would she unload her cargo.  Ahhh….  A 270 degree turn would be necessary in the very narrow harbor.

So as easy as pie, the Captain of the Caribou turned his gigantic vessel around in the middle of the small harbor with very little clearance.  It was an awesome display of seamanship.  You want to see it?  Well, OK…..

After a successful docking, we were able to load the bikes onto the Caribou for the ride to Nova Scotia.  It was a smooth uneventful trip and before we knew it we were being discharged on the shores of Nova Scotia around midnight local time.  Of course it was raining again and finding our hotel was a bit of a chore, but find it we did and we dropped into the rack to sleep the sleep of the dead.

Viola!  We awoke to bright sunshine with only a few clouds dotting the sky.  What a wonderful change!  Having heard about the beauty of the Cabot Trail and the twisty roads that surrounded it, we made a beeline for the reportedly smooth pavement running along side the mountains and ocean.  We were not to be disappointed; not one iota.

On narrow, bumpy and mostly deserted roads, we passed many small towns which seemed to have one thing in common; wonderful people.  During our brief stops, or our overnight stays, it seemed that everywhere we went people greeted us and wanted to chat.  All the greetings were warm and welcoming, we often felt like lost relatives.  They wanted to know about us and they often told us much about their families and themselves.  This give and take is in our opinion what true adventure riding is all about.  We were really not all that far from home, but we were learning much from the folks we interacted with and I think we got a true feeling of what it was like to live in the Canadian Atlantic Provinces.

As welcome and comfortable as we were, we hightailed it towards Cape Breton and the Cabot Trail.  The blue skies, clear blue ocean and sinuous mountain roads beckoned to us.  As we rolled along the road that paralleled the bright blue ocean, we passed the tiny town of Wreck Cove and immediately the mountains which mark the beginning of the Cabot Trail became visible.

We could see the steep and twisting road immediately in front of us.  A sharp hairpin turn led to the steepest part of the road that clung to the side of the mountain as the ocean lay calmly hundreds of feet below.  There was only one thing left to do and it was to ride that road.  And ride it we did.  The road was steep enough at the beginning that we used first gear for the a significant portion of the climb.  It was a bit interesting to be riding this twisting road only a couple of feet from the guard rail that was the only barrier a several hundred foot drop to the ocean below.  But nonetheless, the view was spectacular.

As we crested the first ridge of the mountain, we lost sight of the ocean, but the pavement became very smooth and we were able to enjoy some twisties on a smooth surface.  We both hooted and hollered into our communicators and told each other how spectacular the riding was and  how much we were enjoying Nova Scotia.  Although we were enjoying the twisties, we did take the time to stop and enjoy some of the spectacular mountain views along the top of the mountain pass.

Later as we began our descent from the top of the mountain, we were treated to another set of twisties, this time even more exciting than at the beginning of the day.  Hairpins and decreasing radius turns awaited our eager throttle hands and wide open eyes.  But this wonderful steeply descending road presented us with a significant dilemma.  The problem was that the twisties were so technical that we dare not take our eyes off the road while navigating each corner.  So you say, why would that be a problem?  The problem was that just beyond that guard rail were the most amazing views of the north Atlantic you can imagine.  The bright blue sea met an equally dazzling ocean and where they met at the horizon, it was as if the two were merged into one.  The decision as to which to look at was mind rending.

But as we laughed to each other over our communicators, “someone has to do it,” we started down quickly scanning from road to sea, road to sea.  If you know anything about instrument flying, it was an exercise in scanning.  Don’t stare at anything, keep moving your eyes, soak it all in to your brain and make the correct control inputs.  It was a test, but a wonderful one at that.

As the road straightened out a bit, it still provided awesome views of the ocean and of itself as it undulated up an over little ridge crests alongside the sea.  To your left, green trees sprouted from the sheer mountain walls while to your right, the ocean vied for your attention.  It was an amazing test of willpower just to stay on the road.

The mesmerizing ride took away all realization of time for us and before we knew it, we had completed the Cabot Trail and were headed back inland across the peninsula towards Lunenburg.  A very lovely town with an artists flair, we were treated to more local sights and flavor.  We’ll take you there in Part 8.


Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces (Part 6)

With significant regret we left our roadside whale watching motorized perches and rode on towards Blanc Sablon.  I was somewhat gloomy leaving such a sight, and the darkening weather matched my mood.  Overhead clouds were gathering and the skies brooded and darkened.  By the time we reached our hotel, a cold misty fog surrounded us.  We were looking forward to a nice warm room and a hot dinner.  We were able to accomplish both and fell into the rack for a good nights rest.

We awoke to overcast and heavy rain.  It seems like each time we visited Newfoundland it rained and it looked like this visit would be no different.  I dressed and we packed our bags for mounting on the bikes.  It was while I was mounting the bags on our bikes that an older gentleman approached and quietly watched for a while.  I clearly remember him.  He was wearing a clear raincoat and a yellow Gloucester fisherman’s hat.  I noticed he was wearing a Cessna belt buckle and he had the pilot’s wrinkles around his eyes from squinting into the sun.  Just by looking at him, I could tell that this man had had some adventures of his own.  Nearby, a tour bus idled its rough and slow diesel drone and he looked at it disdainfully.  He would then watch me packing in the rain with a look of longing and desire.  It truly appeared like he was ready to jump on and ride

After a while, he walked a bit closer and asked where we were headed and where we had come from.  I told him that we had ridden from our house in New Hampshire and we were headed to Newfoundland.  We chatted a bit about the trip so far and what the Trans Labrador Highway had been like.  While we stood there in the rain, he looked me in the eye and looked over to the bus he would later board and he said, “I wish I was traveling with you.”  You know what, if I’d had the space on the bike, I would have taken him along.  Pilots have to stick together you know.

Before we knew it we were in line for the ferry getting ready to ride churning grey misty seas.  Finally this signal was given and we rode our bikes aboard, tied them down and made our way to find some seating for the trip.  Even though the trip started in the morning, the entire ride was dark and rainy.  A few ghostly icebergs silently passed in the distance their silhouettes a grainy shadow against a backdrop of white-capped grey and green.  A few whale and dolphins passed, breaking the water’s surface, spouting  and seemingly pointing out the way.  It seemed that in no time, we had arrived in Newfoundland and it was time to disembark and start our Newfoundland part of the trip.

Unfortunately, for most of this journey through Newfoundland, poor weather surrounded us and we decided to make a beeline to our first destination near St. Anthony, the Glacier Manor Resort.  Now closed, it was a wonderful little place being built by a couple; John and Edna Simmonds using their own two hands.  Dinner was home cooked by Edna while John literally serenaded us on the guitar while we ate.  It was terrific.  We sat and chatted and discussed the US and Canada and before we knew it we had transitioned from acquaintances to family in the breadth of a few short hours.  Together with John and Edna, we’d been able to shrink the planet a little more on this trip.  Wonderful!

We went out for an early evening walk in an attempt to see some moose.  As the sun set, we came across a pair of very large great horned owls.  One flew off quickly and the other stayed for a while and watched us watching him.  We remained very quiet and did not make any quick movements or loud noises which might scare him off.  Finally he had had his fill of watching us and as he flew away.  But as he did, he left us a gift of one of his large feathers which we still have to this day.  It was if he were saying, thank you for not disturbing us.  For doing so, I leave you a part of me to remember us and Newfoundland by.

As the sky grew darker, we walked towards the more open fields and waited for the moose to come out.  They did not disappoint us.  They came out in fairly large numbers and quietly and calmly walked across open fields looking for some snacks.  We watched in amazement wondering how such large animals could move about so silently.  We watched for an hour or so and headed back to the resort for a good night’s rest.

Come the morning we made our way towards Newfoundland’s table top mountain National Park Gros Morne.  It was green and gorgeous.  Sheer walls of green with bare spots of rock shot straight up.  Not to points, but to vast flat table tops that stretched for miles.  Surrounded at the base by trees, as they rose, the mountains lost their leafy cover and instead were covered in huge patches of velvety green moss. The moss often undulated up the sides of the mountain giving the slope a wavy texture until reaching the table top.  They were extraordinary sights.

While we stared at the table topped mountains, we were also treated to ocean view stretches.  We rode alongside twisty two lane ocean roads with clouds racing perpendicular to our course.  Fresh air treated our senses with variety.  When the wind blew from the sea, it was sweetened with the brine of the deep.  When if came from the land, it was pungent with pine.  This ride had turned into a truly sensory delight.

We made a brief stop for lunch in a small town called Port Aux Choix.  It was a charming place and it was clear that we were in Canada.  One of the locals had hand carved a Viking statue and outfitted him full hockey gear including stick and shin guards.  Of course, because he was cool, he was also outfitted with some rather trendy shades.  Of course, we had to take a picture with him.

Continuing our southward ride, we made our way towards Rocky Harbor.  To get to there, we again found ourselves on narrow twisty mountain roads with mountain and ocean views.  At the higher elevations, snow was still on the ground and it was mid June!   Along the way we spotted moose grazing and running alongside the road during the day.  Beautiful to look at, but also an important reminder to be alert when rounding corners.

Rocky Harbor turned out to be another small town surrounded by mountains and the sea.  When we arrived they were having a local regatta, and the townspeople were out and about in all sorts of small craft  plying they way all over the harbor.  It was a day of community on the water.  We enjoyed the festivities for a while, but we really had to get going for our time was running short.  The following day we had to be in Port Aux Basques to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia.

Arriving at our little hotel, which consisted of several separate little cottages and a restaurant, we caught a quick dinner and turned in for the night.  Before we fell asleep the rain had begun to fall and tomorrow looked to be a damp ride to the ferry to Nova Scotia where we’ll take you in Part 7.


Forced Marriages – Do they work?

Forced marriages?  What does the topic of forced marriages have to do with motorcycling or adventure riding?  Have they lost their minds over there at R2ADV?   Not really, for the most part.  But what brings this topic to mind is the recent purchase of motorcycle manufacturer Ducati by automobile manufacturer, Volkswagen, AG through their division Audi for a reported $1.13 billion USD.  Many financial analysts have questioned the purchase as making no business sense, saying that there is no concrete business case for the purchase.

So why would Volkswagen/Audi (let’s just call them Audi for now on) a German automobile manufacturer known for precision engineering, spartan, efficient, and practical transportation want to purchase Ducati, an Italian, motorcycle company known for beautiful design (sometimes at the expense of functionality), passion and racing prowess?  Can the two heritages be aligned and successfully combined into one big happy family in this apparent shotgun marriage?

Well the conjecture is that Audi wanted a trophy in its cabinet and its purchase of Ducati certainly represents a big shiny one.  Huge racing heritage, cutting edge styling and maker of perhaps the most iconic motorcycle ever to be manufactured, the Ducati 916.  In addition, prior to the purchase, Ducati had been recently leveraging its racing heritage and begun moving and promoting its brand image to and even wider audience.

With the introduction of the Streetfighter, Hypermotard, Multistrada (version 2) and most recently the Diavel, Ducati had moved from a racing company to a full market motorcycle company.  But, and this is a big but, styling has always been a HUGE priority with Ducati even over cost, functionality and dare it be said, winning races.

But the question remains, how will Audi reconcile this styling priority with its engineering practicality philosophy?  Can/will Audi listen to the Italians when they say but this design is beautiful, you shouldn’t change it?  Will process and engineering controls overwhelm passion and styling at the new Ducati?

This brings me to question what the new Audi/Ducati might do to their adventure bike; the Multistrada.  Ducati, so fixated on performance, installed the engine from their world class superbike, tuned for torque, and fit it between excellent suspension.  Based on all this power, suspension adjustability and perhaps styling,  Ducati decided to mount a solid cast 17 inch front wheel.  This is not an optimal wheel for off roading, but it certainly looks swoopier and handles better on pavement and at high speeds.  Ducati just could not force themselves to fit a 21 inch front spoked wheel which probably couldn’t handle the projected power of the Multistrada, nor does it look especially nice.  Especially limiting is he fact that no tire manufacturer made a “knobby” tire in 17 inch rim sizes.  In fact, Ducati had a tire made by Pirelli especially for the Multistrada that they hoped would fit the adventure mission.

It was not a hit with the off road community.  In fact, it was the reason I sold my Multistrada.  It just really didn’t want to be an off road bike.  It was an awesome machine on the pavement, but anything more than wide gravel roads were a chore for the bike.  I should have known that from the start with the 17 inch front wheel.

So what will the new Audi/Ducati do?  Will the new company use the Audi approach and fit the engineer’s choice 21 inch front wheel or stay with the 17 inch wheel.  Recently, Continental Tire came up with a true “knobby” for the 17 inch rim so now the Multistrada has a knobby tire available.  They are “low profile” knobs, but they are knobs.  Will that be enough, or will the new Audi/Ducati start anew with a new design and a fresh sheet of paper, throwing away the Italian legacy?

Interesting question eh?  I did find that Wunderlich, a german motorcycle accessory and tuning company had been working with Continental and developed this machine based on the BMW S1000RR.   (picture from Motorcycle USA)

It’s an interesting looking machine to say the least.  Wunderlich has no relationship with Audi that I am aware of, but does this impart an idea of German thinking?   Such a comparison is pure conjecture, but it’s interesting to think about.

Well the jury is not only out, it’s yet to be selected.  But once selected, it will be interesting to see whether this forced marriage betweenVolkswagen/Audi and Ducati is given the thumbs up of survival or the thumbs down of business failure.


Alaska – Gravel, Grandeur & Goofy Grins (Part 9)

Wild animals, humans and motorcycles thoroughly mixed and mingled, it was time to make our way towards Seward.  On our way out of the wildlife park we came upon a rather wheezy looking caribou.  With  his head hanging low in an apparent weakened display of age and surrender, his impressive rack still was over the top of my head.  I stopped my bike beside him to take a picture and to give him the “oh you poor old boy” condolences when suddenly his head popped up.  He stiffened, snorted angrily and took a quick step towards me as to say “get lost or I’ll trample you into little pieces of Alaskan tundra.”  I was really started, nearly dropped my camera and almost fell off my bike.  OK then.  Note to self, old Alaskan caribou can still kick butt.  Give them a wide berth because they can be quite cranky.  Got it.  Oh, and luckily for me, Kim was behind me a fair bit and she saw nothing.  My dented male ego was to remain somewhat intact.

With that, we (actually I) expedited our exit from the Alaskan Wildlife Refuge and set course for our next stop, Seward.   We were quite psyched to be headed there because it is a seaport town and we had planned to go on a full day marine mammal/bird/glacier boat tour while we were there.  Continuing south and traveling along Turnagin Arm we were greeted with more ocean views and twisty roads.  The weather was good and in no time we made it to Seward and our hotel for the next couple of days.

By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture.  Then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.

Now the hotel was not much to write home about, but it did offer some surprises.  As we entered the hotel’s lobby, we were immediately surrounded.  Surrounded?  Yes, as in surrounded by wild animals.  Completing our entrance through the one person revolving door we were immediately confronted by two bears, a musk ox and caribou!  In the hotel lobby!  This just after my run-in with the cranky old caribou.  Further in, we found moose, arctic fox, mink and pheasant.  Ge’ez, didn’t we just leave the conservation center?

Well what really happened is that all these animals were indeed in the hotel lobby but they were stuffed.  Perhaps they had been cranky with someone else and then they paid the price?  Oh well, it was just strange seeing all these animals in a hotel lobby, it wasn’t like we were in a hunting lodge.  We quickly “headed” to our room to drop off our gear.  We opened the door there and found…  no stuffed animals.

We put our gear in the room and decided to walk around the town a bit and get some dinner.  We found some murals painted on the sides of buildings which had been painted by the locals.  They showed topics such as the settling of Seward and some were about native Alaskan culture.  They were pretty cool so we snapped a few pictures for memories.  Then we did the tourist thing for a while, checked out a few shops in town and finally settled in for the evening, because we had a full day boat tour with an early start in the morning.

The following morning dawned bright and mostly sunny with fairly calm seas.  It was going to be a good day for a boat tour.  Actually, the boat was more of a ship.  It was a 95 foot vessel with twin 3600 horsepower engines.  She could make well over 26 knots with a full capacity.  This was no little boat.  By the way, I know the vessel facts for reasons I’ll tell you about later.

To ensure we got good seating, we arrived early and plopped ourselves down in the cabin by the windows.  I was sitting there reading my Kindle which at the time was a fairly new device.  The Captain of the ship walked by and asked if I was in fact reading a Kindle and I replied that I was.  We chatted about it and I let him look at it.  It turned out that he wrote software in his spare time, and the e-ink technology was a hot topic so he wanted to see how it looked on the screen.  We chatted a bit more about Alaska and the motorcycle ride we were on which he thought was pretty cool.  Ultimately, he said he had to get back to work and we thought we wouldn’t see him again.  We were wrong.

The boat departed on time and we headed out to sea.  Almost immediately we saw sea otters lolling about in the harbor, some lying on their backs sunning themselves while others rolled lazily like tops to help aerate their fur to aid in insulation.   They were as cute as you hear about and can imagine.  Clear of the harbor, the Captain laid on the power and 45 minutes later we arrived at two islands, one of which was a Steller Sea Lion rookery.  We laid up appropriately close and we could see the females with their cubs sunning themselves while the very large bull males made themselves know with loud vocalizations.  Every once in a while, there would be a bit of a dust up between the sea lions over space, but all in all, they seemed quite happy to lie in the sun and take an occasional dip in the water.   We watched for a half hour or so and it was time to move on.

Thirty minutes later, we arrived at two more islands, the Beehive Islands which were appropriately named because of their shape and one other thing.  The were bird rookeries for many species birds and they flew and swooped all around the islands making them seem like beehives inhabited by bees.  As we got closer to the islands, it became apparent that the islands were crammed with birds.  It looked like every tiny ledge, crevice and crack had a nesting bird or its partner sitting or standing on it. The walls to the island were quite sheer, so they’d stand or sit on very narrow precipices to be used as nesting areas.  There was very little free space by the time the birds had found all the spots they wanted to use.  It was quite amazing.

We watched the birds wheel and soar in the air around and above the island.  Had there been air traffic control, it would have been a controller’s worst nightmare!  But they all seemed to be able to navigate and fly without crashing into each other.  We humans aren’t so lucky.

After about thirty minutes of watching the birds act like bees it was time to find some whales and check out some glaciers.  Both of which we found and saw in abundance.  We’ll tell you about them and the little secret in Part 10.