Everywhere......

Everywhere..... mountains, prairies, deserts..... in sun, rain, and even snow.... in the cold, in the heat..... well-fed, hungry and thirsty.... she's gone everywhere with me..... everywhere.....

Without a whimper, without a complaint, without a single unkind word.... always with her flashing smile..... waiting out thunderstorms under freeway overheads and service station sheds, running from the hail, leaning out over the sidecar to feed or speak to our little son..... almost hitting bears more times than you would believe, and hitting one deer once and enough -- and sharing the same hospital room..... she's been up to Alaska twice, Nova Scotia twice, Hawaii, the European Alps three times..... well over 350,000 miles now... She's my veteran world traveler companion, and we didn't go first class.... motorcycle and tent....for twenty-five years.... we've spent hundreds and hundreds of nights in wind-rattled tents....precious nights.....everywhere.....she went everywhere with me. And we're going again. She's made my life... I look at her and marvel, and silently thank God...... and wonder how I ever deserved this blessing.

Agent of Excitement

In developed nations, where every human survival need is met, the greatest danger to human beings is boredom, or the feeling that life is agonizingly predictable and humdrum and meaningless -- and most people will go to great lengths in putting excitement back into their cubicle-bound lives. As an "Agent of Excitement," the motorcycle is unsurpassed -- relatively cheap and available to nearly everyone, motorcycles are an instant cure to the Humdrum Blues. Almost every population center in the developed world is surrounded by a rabbit's warren of paved and unpaved roads. If you have a motorcycle and an hour for lunch, you can report back to your cubicle with your heart trip-hammering, every nerve reborn and alive, looking eagerly ahead to the ride home.... if you have a motorcycle and a week, you can cross a continent, with all of the suspense and drama and uncertainty of such an endeavor....and if you have a motorcycle and more days than a week, well........

That is why motorcycle companies very seldom if ever put up advertising that mentions the utility or the inherent economy of motorcycles -- not in the developed world, anyway. Marketers of motorcycles sell the machines by talking about its ability to put romance and adventure in your life... which a motorcycle can do better than almost anything else, and which most people today need more than almost anything else. The popular iconic and universally recognized sticker, "Live To Ride, Ride To Live," strikes a chord in just about everyone suffocating and suffering in a cubicle today....

In the very early twentieth century, the vast majority of Americans lived and worked on family farms. And this was no easy life -- it was an existence marked by extremely hard work and limited geography. Most Americans lived and died in a few square miles, and many never left their own county or township. But the early Americans had also been travelers -- the Oregon and Sante Fe Trails, the sea circuit around Cape Horn, the cattle drover trails, the gold rushes, the voyage to America itself -- testified to the spirit of adventure that lurked just under the surface for most of them, and the confined life of a farmer must of rankled.....

But the development of the early twentieth century motorcycle offered almost instant salvation from the "prison" of farm work. For just a few dollars, the young farm worker could obtain the means of temporary escape.... Indian and Harley offered nearly everyone the chance of freedom, at least for a Sunday afternoon. Given the cost of feed and pasture, early motorcycles and gasoline were cheaper than horses, and much more capable of expanding a farmer's horizons. Almost every farm town across the country had a motorbike club, and pictures of them hang on the walls of many old restaurants. There was no utility to the motorcycle: you couldn't haul hay on it, you couldn't herd sheep with it (although some tried), you couldn't harvest vegetables with it.... but what you could do was change your horizons, what you could do was to "go and see," what you could do was to regain your freedom and sense of adventure. And it's interesting to me that, one hundred years or so later, motorcycles are still being used for the very same purpose.

I believe travel without effort is meaningless. Travel should not be free. Travel should cost you something, not in money but in effort and commitment and courage -- all of which is paid for from the currency of your heart..... Only when you pay dues such as these do you get the traveler's true reward -- the reward of a better understanding, a better understanding of the world and your place in it.

Motorcycling is a uniquely convenient way of adding joyous effort to travel.  It is usually so joyous, that the means become more important than the ends.   In other words,  going there is just as important as getting there.   Riders often laugh about hopping on their bike for a quick ride to the store for a loaf of bread, a quick ride that lasts half the day!  You see, it's impossible not to travel when you have access to a motorcycle and the skills to ride it.  Impossible.

Some days I'd like to take a very light motorcycle, perhaps even a scooter or a motor bike, tie on a very light sleeping bag and climber's tent.....and then just go out and see how far around the world I could get! But then... then.... I take another look at my lovely wife, and say to myself: "What's the matter, fool? Are you nuts? Already you are more fortunate than 99% of the world's population! Just lay back chilly and enjoy, you old fool, ....lay back and enjoy!"

In the western world, boredom is the greatest threat to an old man's happiness, and usually it's self-inflicted.....

But not always, sometimes it's spawned by advancing age. At seventy years plus and still suffering from the non-healed wounds he received during the Civil War, Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, the Hero of Little Roundtop, tried to get back into the Army for the Spanish American War, and was heartily pissed off when refused.... Why? Maybe bored, or maybe haunted by the approach of his mortality.... The more intense your life, the harder it is to see it ebbing away....

Most men can live in one place, but some cannot..... I'm one who cannot, but I do..... because I love one who can. But she loves to fly away with me, over the nap of the earth, on our Great White Wing. We go out for me, and we come back for her. It's called compromise; it' called a true Glasserian Conflict (see below); it's called love.

Speed is my narcotic, my balm, my warm scented oil...... with the throttle pegged, and the front wheel spinning, flying, carrying me faster and further than I am designed to go, I escape, for a moment, the consciousness of my weakness and fragility, my vulnerability, my temporariness...... For a shining, speeding moment, I forget my death. I forget my mortality. I forget my insignificance. By confronting death with my absurd helmet, my gloves, my throttle -- I vanquish it. But only for a shining, speeding moment.... Only for a shining, speeding moment.... And that's what our lives amount to, really, in the Grand Scheme...... a shining, speeding moment.


(Glasserian True Conflict: loving, valuing, wanting two things at once that conflict, in this case.... freedom and Red)

How to see the world with nothing....

Some folks might strongly disagree, but... I'm gonna say it anyway.  The best motorcycling on earth is in the European Alps.   Riding there is simply unbelievable.  The roads, the scenery, the people, and just  the whole bike-friendly atmosphere is unsurpassed, anywhere, on any continent....  and it's cheaper and more available to the American motorcyclist than you might think....  here's an example of what we did in 2012.



First, forget the organized tour and the guides.... you don't need it, or them.

What you need is this guide book, John Hermann, Motorcycle Journeys in the Alps and Corsica (get it at Amazon.Com) and yeah, it's expensive so buy it used. Keep it and cherish it; it's the ticket to the best riding of your life.

Second, take camping gear. The campgrounds in Europe are unbelievably luxurious and well-cared for....there is simply no justification for spending $200-$300 a night for even a three star hotel when you can stay nearly two weeks in a campground for the same amount. The nature of Alpine riding is such that it lends itself to a "basecamp" approach -- set yourself up in a comfortable campground, and make day tours from it. Keep it simple: a $150 tent (with a fly) and a $100 sleeping bag (45* rated), a sleeping pad, and maybe a backpack stove, and you're good to go! Europeans themselves stay in campgrounds, and they love Americans that do, too..... trust us!

Take your own riding gear and jacket and helmet. Put it in a big rucksack, and your camping gear will probably fit in another. Go very easy on clothes: we took mesh riding gear, a fleece, one pair of convertible pants, two pairs of synthetic underwear that we could wash out, and Frogg Togg raingear. And that's it......

Okay, here we go. Buy a roundtrip ticket to Munich (Munchen!). We got ours in high season for about $1800 apiece..... stay the night in Munich to get de-lagged (3 Star Hotel, $165). The next morning, go to the old Munich Train station and buy a ticket to Balzano, Italy via Innsbruck and Brenner Pass. Go second class; we were always able to "upgrade" our seats on the train once aboard.... we paid $125 for our tickets. Take the small digital camera out.... the train ride is spectacular!

In Balzano, if you get there late, cross the street and stay in the Balzano Youth Hostel, http://bozen.jugendherberge.it/cs.asp?st=1&sp=en, for about $20 a night, and that includes breakfast. There are four bunks to a room, and you might have to share the place with some laughing young women who don't speak your language (and the downside of that is.....?).

The next morning, take the Drusso street bus to this campground, and set your tent up.....http://www.moosbauer.com/en/t/prices.html.... this is a lovely place, and Red and I spent about $125 for a week for clean, luxurious restrooms, a well-stocked store, a pool, a restaurant, friendly staff, and good, good company with the other guests....a truly remarkable campground.

In the morning, take the Drusso bus to this place, http://www.rent-a-bike.it/47/english.html, and rent yourself a bike..... do not go too big! You don't need a Roadking or a Goldwing for the roads you're gonna be on, stay at 750ccs or smaller, even two-up, and a super-scoot is just fine.... then ride back to the campground, get your copy of Hermann's book, and go on and ride the great Dolomite roads! This will keep you busy for days and days, and will be one of the best times of your life!


We are often asked, "why don't you use organized tour companies?" Please note I have nothing against organized touring. There is however a really, really good reason, I believe, for going it alone and cobbling up your own experience: the constant exposure to Europeans.

On our trips to Europe, the train rides and campgrounds almost forced us to "rub against" Europeans in a positive way..... While I've never experienced one, a canned tour would seem to me to "encapsulate" you within the group, to limit your exposure to local people and customs -- and I realize I may be very wrong about that.

Some of our best experiences came from off the bike: the lovely Austrian girl named Kristine we met on the Munich/Balzano train, who shared her first class compartment with us and educated us on the landscapes of Brenner Pass, and who suggested we stay our first night in the Balzano Youth Hostel..... the wonderfully eccentric Brit couple in the campground in Interlaken, Switzerland, who gave us free tickets to the Niederhorn Funicular Railway (about $150 worth!)..... the laughing, wonderfully funny three young motorcycle mechanics from Amsterdam, who spoke perfect, entertaining English to us in a Balzano campground, while drinking amazing quantities of beer in the gaz lantern light.... the soft-spoken, long-haired young German student who suggested that we take the Chunnel train from Munich to London, and who ran with us carrying one of our heavy packs as we desperately tried to catch the last departure (which we did successfully by the way.....). Wherever we went, whatever we tried to do, ordinary Europeans seemed to come from everywhere to help us, to enrich our experience over there, to make sure we were "all right" and doing what we wanted to do -- and after the initial "culture shock," we always felt completely comfortable, completely at ease. This kind of travel is addictive, and immediately whets your desire for more.

Like all U.S citizens, I see things from an isolated perspective. We seem to evaluate everything against American standards, which is not accurate and not fair. But it's not completely our fault; there have always been two big oceans between us and the rest of the world, and it's hard to overcome those limiting factors and remain objective that way. But our "ground-level" travels to the old countries have opened our eyes; have gently brought us around to the idea that we have more commonalities than differences with the other peoples of the world, and that we should do our best to illuminate that fact whenever we can. After all, a motorcyclist is a motorcyclist, no matter what language her or she speaks, and no matter what roads they're on.....and the same rain falls on tents all over the world! And please, please, by whatever means you choose -- budget touring, canned touring, whatever -- get out there soon! And see for yourself what old Louis Armstrong used to sing about..... "What a wonderful world!"

(The Dolomites: northern Italy)

(On the descent of Stelvio Pass)

(Dolomites...)

(My wife in front of our tent, at the Camping Moosbaur campground, Balzano, Italy......)

Sitting on the top of Stelvio Pass.....and I'm holding the t-shirt!

(South Tyrolean scene on the way to Stelvio....)