Travels with Dukey

“I would rather wake up in the middle of nowhere than in any city on earth.” .....Steve McQueen

About 25 years ago, after graduating college, I was living near Boston, MA where my family was from. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew it wasn't in Boston. I had traveled a bunch in Central America and Europe, and knew there was more to life than home base. So I bought an old school bus that had been fitted out as a camper, put a motorcycle in the back, and headed off to roam the country. There was a problem, however. The oil light wasn't working, so the engine seized just outside DC. It was going to be a lot of money to fix the bus. I wheeled the bike out of the back, rolled into DC where I had some friends from Central America, and became a messenger. After a couple of years of that, and as much fun as that was, I had been hit by a car, I knew the job was too dangerous to continue. I had some workman's comp from the accident, and me and another messenger decided to start a bicycle shop together. DC had chosen me more than I it, but I made the best of it.

The original plan was to work a couple years and then get back out on the road, but without the bus - lesson learned is traveling is best done with the minimum. I met a Dutch girl, we got married - I started to structure the business so that it could run itself so I could get out of DC. Both that and the relationship didn't work out. I would get bite size trips, but never anything full nomad - there wasn't the time or the money. I would dream about getting away, like in the movie Up. More relationships came and went, but I still didn't, and started just partying a lot to compensate. The business was a real drag on my dreams, even as I grew it and it gave me a lot of fulfillment. Finally, I started to get serious about getting my remaining business partner out so I could finally be free. That ball started really rolling about three years ago (when my old friend Debora came onboard with City Bikes and started reorganizing the company), and soon after I embarked on my round the world motorcycle trip. There was no longer anything in the way.

I love motorcycling and Duke, but the two could never mix. Just thinking of the visual of it inspired me, and I thought doing it was a fun idea that would make a lot of people smile.

The genesis of the moto/sidecar/dog trip was this - After coming back from Brazil (where I left my other bike after doing 35,000 miles of the Americas) in Feb to start the new Capitol Hill City Bikes shop, I was planning on continuing my around the world journey. My best friends and adopted family, the Hardings, had moved to England so they could send Kadian and Sam to Bedales. The family dog, Duke unfortunately missed some shots that he needed to get into the UK without quarantine for 6 months. They asked that I take care of Duke for the summer because they couldn't find something they knew Duke would be happy doing other than hanging out with me for the summer.

This was a big request - I had a lot of mixed feelings about DC. From my travels, I had really changed - but DC was just about the same. I had some nice friends, but I had spent 25 years in DC, building a business - but now I was all about adventure overland moto travel AWAY from DC. I was one foot in, and one foot out. I was ready to have both out.

One of the greatest lessons I learned traveling is that although I am a city person, the most memorable experiences tended to happen BETWEEN the cities where things tended to be off-script and still authentic as a unique culture. Cities are very stimulating with lots of resources, but its people are very armored, prisoners of their own expectations, less open to the wonder and joy of truly fresh experiences. DC really started to feel like the epitome of this for me.

There are plenty of notable exceptions, but a work/comfort driven world seemed to be forming one global culture that is steamrolling the real differences between places - where city culture is pretty much city culture everywhere - with the internet and cheap air travel connecting these islands of self absorbtion. The story of my experiences felt trivialized as it fit into what people thought they knew about places and people. A been there, done that, got the t-shirt world. The first thing I realized when overland traveling was how LITTLE I knew, and even traveling between the manufactured touristy places I was only scratching the surface. The commoditization of travel, with a set menu of single serving experiences that, for a price, you could get the t-shirt for yourself.

The sublime awe of discovery was what I was always after - truly magic places with special people - maybe others had experienced them, but it wasn't just going to be a matter of picking highlights from the lonely planet and fitting them to a budget and timeline. For me, adventure travel was always about navigating by general direction, listening to what other travelers found outstanding, letting serendipity play it's hand, and just going with what felt good.

The whole joy of a moto road trip for me is that you set out without a strict timeline or expectations - that is for your weekend or week long trips - out of necessity. On short trips you always reach that apogee, where you know you have to fall back to earth, and I always hated that. Epic journeys are my inspiration, where the end is nowhere in sight.

The culture in DC also left me feeling a bit out of place after traveling the Americas. I would come back and forth from the road, and people here were mostly about work. I would ask what people had been up too, and mostly it was working a lot, partying, and the occasional romance or drama. This same city culture problem I found on the road had come home to roost - and without the requisite weekend party bonding, I was a bit like a fish out of water. So staying in DC with the dog was not really and option, and so began the odyssey to get the sidecar/moto/dog thing rolling.

My deal to the Hardings was that I would postpone Siberia, and take my old 70's BMW, find a cool sidecar, and head out west for the summer hiking and camping. A simple idea turned into nearly the whole summer working through all the issues of restoring both the sidecar and the bike - which I imagined to be a lot easier (and cheaper) than it turned out. But I got it working finally!

I had loosely planned to make it to Burning Man while wandering the west, but now it became a deadline. A great little crew of old DC friends were all camping together, and it looked like a great way to celebrate before saying goodbye to everyone, DC and the USA. We all went camping as a group in my favorite camp spot in Virginia, and had a fantastic time together. I waited too long to get a ticket, but a friend had and extra ticket. Our group prepped for the burn by thrifting and pre-partying together, getting all the stuff needed and having a good time doing it. One hosted a going away party for me and another friend which had a lot of burners there - a great sendoff!

So I set out with the moto/sidecar in the City Bikes minivan, hightailing it to Colorado Springs to avoid a lot of hot heartland miles and to make up time to get to Burning Man on time.

Got a late start from DC, and made quickie overnight camping up in the mountains.
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Crashed at a cheapo motel. These van miles are boring as hell, but it is saving Duke a lot of heat and discomfort. The idea is to get to Colorado Springs and get a start in greener mountain terrain, do more hiking kinds of things along with the sidecar. I need to keep his initial experience of the sidecar as positive as possible so he is eager to go in it.

After overnighting in Colorado Springs, I headed up into the cool mountains to get a good spot to setup the outfit. I found a moto shop (they would have a ramp for the moto) in Woodland Park CO and got everything set up. Off and running!

From Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance:
Plans are deliberately indefinite, more to travel than to arrive anywhere.. We want to make good time, but for us now this is measured with emphasis on good rather than time and when you make that shift in emphasis the whole approach changes... Roads free of drive-ins and billboards are better, roads where groves and meadows and orchards and lawns come almost to the shoulder, where kids wave to you when you ride by, where people look from their porches to see who it is, where when you stop to ask directions or information the answer tends to be longer than you want rather than short, where people ask where you're from and how long you've been riding...The whole pace of life and personality of the people who live along them are different. They're not going anywhere. They're not too busy to be courteous. The hereness and nowness of things is something they know all about. It's the others, the ones who moved to the cities years ago and their lost offspring, who have all but forgotten it. The discovery was a real find.

Robert Pirsig

Well, took it easy and just put a few miles down to sort out any hack issues. Found a really nice campground in the hills. Dukey was hesitant to get back in the sidecar, even with treats. I let him run alongside the moving sidecar for a couple of miles - he got the picture and got back into the sidecar. We did some hiking into this rocky mount, and then down to the lake - very pretty!

There was a bad lean problem after a spot weld I had made on the sub frame broke. The problem was at the front bottom mount for the sidecar - the clamp couldn't hold tight enough to keep it from pivoting. After looking around for a welder with little success, I hammered my leatherman knife into the gap between the clamp and the frame and that held things. For now.

Lovely camping respite from the heat. A beautiful reservoir was great for a swim after a hot day. Definitely got that big expanse of sky and mountains feel you get in the west. Long vistas through canyons and buttes where you can see 50 miles ahead. Duke found plenty of playmates in the RV heavy campground. A great dinner at the cafe overlooking the Reservoir. Starting to feel like a real adventure.

Along the way I had a couple of bike problems. The first was the clutch cable. When restoring the bike, I had cleaned everything up really well, but forgot to grease the spot where the clutch cable meets the lever on the handlebars. Because the fitting there couldn't freely pivot, it slowly starts to fray. It was about to go completely when I stopped at a moto shop along the way. It was unlikely that they or anyone for a thousand miles would have the right part. What they did have was a hollow cable end that I could thread the cable through and somehow afix. The shop tried to solder it on but it broke immediately. I worked with it, crimping over the strands and then fixing it with JB weld. It held!

The other problem was more serious, but didn't seem like it at first. I was riding through a town, and all of a sudden the bike just stopped running, and wouldn't start again. At least it stopped right in front of an auto parts place, not in the desert! There was a good deal of oil that was dripping down from the front cover. The bike was pretty hot, so I let it cool off and had something to eat. Afterwards I opened the front cover and saw that there was oil leaking from around the front cam shaft seal near the points. This could be a problem. I cleaned things up and buttoned everything back up - the bike started! I would get to Reno and sort things out I told myself. At this stage, stopping in the heat was going to be a real problem for Duke.

Gorgeous day of riding coming up to not so great camping. Riding though these amazing colorful rock formations - very similar to Moab and Arches, but not quite as spectacular since we are on the main road. Gone are the lush forests of Colorado, but it is still quite scenic.

Headed into the Great Basin - which is going to be very hot and dry - not ideal for the Duke. Thinking of toughing out the miles to get somewhere green like Lake Tahoe near Reno so that Duke can have some fun as well. Maybe find a better place to put him up than Reno,

Doubt - In the Battle between You and the World, bet on the World. - Demotivational poster.

The great basin consists of mountain range after mountain range through desert - not much of any greenery here, and lots of dry desert head and sidewinds that require a lot of pushing on the bars. Got nearly 250 miles from Reno and the bike just wouldn't go past idle. I was on a mountain top in the desert heat, very concerned about Duke at this point. By sheer luck I had a cell signal, which was pretty rare where I was - and NOBODY was stopping to help me in this desperado desert, not even bikers. Called and got a wrecker come in and haul me back to Ely.

These times when I get broken down and stuck, notwithstanding my feelings about how people who selflessly help me out rebuild my faith in human nature, can be some dark times for me. Sometimes it feels like events are conspiring to keep me down, to defeat my dream. Breakdowns can drain your cash, particularly if you have a deadline to meet, and crush your spirit. It is times like these, at your lowest, that emotional support from friends, family and rescuing angles can be critical just to keep your chin up enough to continue and struggle through the problems. Seemingly insurmountable technical and logistical problems, which seem to happen all too often.

That demotivatoional poster always gives me a chuckle at times like these. It is only through sheer force of will that a miraculous solution gets found - but these things leave me feeling raw and vulnerable. I always remember what my sister said after I had an accident in Michigan at the beginning of the whole around the world thing a couple years ago. She said Maybe god is trying to tell you something. I hadnt broken any significant bones in a super violent 50 mph T-bone crash into a car, totaling the bike (out of pocket because of Michigan laws even though it was 100% not my fault). She rankled me with this god thing. My instant retort to my sister was Yeah he is sending me a message to keep going because I was still physically able to. She meant well by asking.

My awesome friend Thomas (Harding) had driven up from WV to help me sort out the bike and was such an amazing support for continuing on - if I didnt then, I might never have. You dont know who your real friends are till you are up against it - without their support, I couldnt live my dreams, and without that - what was the point of anything really.

Ely is not so charming, but the people are great. Working on the bike with a guy from here - going through everything to make it go - points, carbs, condenser, timing, plugs, coils, etc. Things looked promising a couple of times but nada after 3 days, and the start date for Burning Man was rapidly approaching.

Finally got in touch with someone from Reno willing to come out and haul me to Reno where there would be crucial parts like the points and condenser. Steve LotsofSky - a burner and former owner of Reno's BMW dealership. With little of no notice he and his girlfriend rolled 300 miles out, overnight, to get me to Reno in time to get the parts and get to the burn. Here was the kind of character of person I was thinking about.

With Duke along for the ride, I was starting to have doubts about whether I would have the inner strength to overcome if things had gone differently. I could put up with almost anything - but if I hadn't had cell service, we might have been at the mercy of coyotes and mountain lions if we had to camp out at night. I was told later this was a good possibility because of the dog, and I started to wonder if I was taking too many risks with my beloved Duke. If anything happened to him, I would be destroyed, as would the Hardings, and that might mean the end of our friendship, yet another catastrophe - an Epic Fail in todays lingo.

Looking down the road at Siberia, Mongolia, Kazakhstan - this was brutal country where a single stupid mistake could easily mean death. I would need to ride with others there. My riding partners selection process in the Americas had been pretty casual - find other guys going your way and link up. I was going to need to be more intentional and find someone who not only had my back (and vice versa) but also had the skills to persevere deprivation, adversity and overcome major challenges. Not a lot of people I knew fit that bill.

Rolled into Sierra BMW with a couple hours to spare. The head mechanic was nice enough to make the time to get the ole bike running. Replaced the points and condenser - got it running just fine. Enough to get the burn at least.Steve was fantastic, and such a great help - which wasn't the last time as it turned out.

Linked up with Camp people at the GSR - one was on the grumpy side, it didn't feel like the group fun that I had imagined it would be, more of we are all alone together kind of thing. Maybe things would get better at the burn, I thought.

What can I say - its Burning Man. One of the best things about coming by moto is that you get to ride right to the front of the line, no hours of waiting.

Camp Monkey Business was a new camp to me, but a good deal of my DC friends had been going with them for years Some great new people. Missing from the group were two people that, had they been there, might have really changed the dynamic, but they couldnt make it this year. One of the signature features of the camp was that they played the inane Banana Phone song (ring ring ring, banana phone) again and again - to the great annoyance of our neighbors. Their moto was We're not happy till you're not happy. It was all in good fun, and pretty funny, but I wasn't sure this was quite the right scene for me.

Camp Monkey business started just not working for me. I wasn't that close with most of the camp, and one that I was close with seemed annoyed anytime I was around. We had been friends with for a long time, and spent a lot of time together before the burn, but she just couldn't talk through what was wrong. I was disappointed since we usually had so much fun together. Partying a lot in an attempt to make things better, I was out of sorts, I wasn't really having the fun I should be at burning man, but I wasn't able to get out of my own way either.

One of the precepts of nomadery though is that if something isn't working then just roll, don't wait around to figure out why. Never stay long enough to wear out your welcome. Just go.

I had been looking for Elijah, Paul and Marie for days. Elijah was a great guy I rode through Central America with for a while. In Costa Rica, we met up with his bus traveler friends, and it turned out to be one of the best experiences of the whole trip. We did zip lining on Green Mountain, and did Carnival at Las Tablas in Panama. I finally found their camp on Thurs (I think) and immediately felt more in my element. Warmly welcomed with open arms, all interested in my adventures and me in theirs - Paul and Marie had been married again on the Playa, which I had wanted to attend, but got the day wrong. I asked them if I could move to their camp, and they said yes of course to my delight - I put all my crap in my tent, put the tent on the moto/sidecar, and moved over their spot. These kind of people are the ones I should be with at the burn - people who were solid as a rock yet kept it fun. Real. I was in their camp and they were in mine. Marie read this amazing poem about burning man that was so moving, The quality of my experiences and characters at the burn really started to shift.

I did also connect with some other friends from DC at another camp who were just a blast to hang out with - Shaun and City Bitch. Great DC people!

I proceeded to have a FANTASTIC burn, and took some great pix. Finally feeling more grounded in my new camp, I could really cut loose. The night of the temple burn, usually a bit slower night and when the great exodus starts - turned out to be the craziest night of my burn. I would pay for my choices later, but what a blast.

I had bike trouble on the way into the burn - and when trying to get myself to Reno, I immediately had a sputtering problem. I figured it was the air filter, and sure enough, removing it did the job. The wait to get out was something like 8 hours, and again I scooted right to the front of the line, and got to Reno in 3 hours. However, riding through all the dust filled my lungs and sinuses with so much playa that it tooks almost a week to cough and sneeze it out.

Reno is a pretty desperate, depressing place, and I was definitely feeling some post burn downs, like bad. I saw my DC friends in Reno, but didn't really connect at all - we were supposed to hang out post burn, but after my exodus from camp, it was for the best we went our own ways. After the lead up to the Burn was so fun with my DC people, saying goodbye felt empty. On the eve of my big trip, this felt like the last straw in a series of short straws in DC. Even in the most passing of friendships, it is the little things - the pleases and thank yous, the sorries and the hugs, acknowledgements and understandings - this stuff matters. Maybe all that really matters in the end.

Duke had been a real trooper thoughout the burn thing. I had to kennel him, and when I picked him up - there was about 20 minutes of howling and pawing me - he had really missed me and me him. It was pretty awesome to be back on the road with Duke.

I set out to go to Lake Tahoe, rolling up to Mt. Rose pass over the northern section of the lake. Just as I got to the top however, there was a loud SNAP from the drivetrain. Oops - another call to my rescuing angel Steve - he came up the mountain he followed me downhill, pushing me where necessary, to get to his place where we could fix it. The problem was not huge - technically should have called for replacing the whole swingarm - but Steve did some mexican engineering, welding the parts together again.

I met some great people in Reno, now that I was back, who cheered me up - a cool gal who chatted me up at Starbucks and I helped her write her med residency application. I met the ranger who supervised the Temple burn, and a fellow moto traveler starting out on his adventure from the burn - he really had it all together in a way I wish I had done before my travels.

I was on my way again. Hopefully.

It was so nice to finally get out of the desert into some greenery. Tahoe was just really beautiful. I drove the back way (89?) up to the lake, through gorgeous rocky canyons and lush forests. Now this was feeling more like it.

The ride in was a slog through the desert heat, then as the Pacific approached, it suddenly got cool, and as the vistas opened up of the bays, with the sun setting over the city, it was just lovely. In my head I was singing that Journey song about the city by the bay. Awesome.

I talked to Elijah (my moto buddy from Centro America) who I knew was headed to SF for a spell. Asked if he had a place to crash with the doggie. I needed to resolve some business issues so I ended up staying for a few days with him, and afteward with his super cool burner friends. Caught up on Breaking Bad. Met up with some cool folks I knew from Shawn/City in DC at an afterburn party. Starting to feel good again getting back on the road again!

Whenever I spend time in these creative centers - New York, San Francisco, Berlin, etc - I start to wonder what track my life could have taken had I hit some pebble in the road that changed my trajectory and I landed in one of them. Would I have done something more purely creative? My life is great, so I can't complain really, and I can still do whatever I want, but still I wonder..

Riding through the redwoods and camping there was just delightful. Those massive trees always give me pause to consider their dignity and majesty - we were like so many frenetic ants that came and went. The coast was ruggedly beautiful, especially when the sun warmed me, but when it was foggy with a strong headwind, I was getting super cold and uncomfortable. Time to head inland and warm up.Dukey was finally having dog fun again! I met a cool couple that were biking the coast who turned me on to the hot springs in Umpqua - which turned out to be a great tip!

The riding was changing from coast to forested mountain ranges. A lot warmer now that I was away from the coast. The damp cold really saps your energy on long rides.

Well, yet another bike problem. This time the throttle mechanism. I had experienced this before, most recently in Argentina with the R100gspd. There is no way to fabricate something to work. Lucky for me the stuff was in stock in Medford, about 70 miles away, and there happened to be a couple of travelers headed north who could bring it to me. I really wanted to hit the hot springs, so this luck gave me the time I needed to do that.
One of the things that always lifted me up on these long rides is that when I get stuck, is the extraordinary kindness and selfless help total strangers give effortlessly. It really starts to make me feel much better about human nature. Cities can often leave me feeling that people are very guarded - whereas the warm welcome I felt from people who had no reason to trust me and no extrinsic motivation to help felt very authentic. I rebuilds my faith in humanity every time. . My new anchor point was always going to be England and my adopted family there. I was sure that there were so many fantastic people and experiences ahead of me. The trip started to get that awesome road trip feeling - where I was truly free to wander and discover - even with the timeline for Duke to be on a plane to the UK was nearing.

All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost JRR Tolkien - quote on bathroom wall at Umpqua Hot Springs.

The tip from the guy in Oregon turned out to be gold. Once I got on the road into Umpqua National Forest, it was clear this was going to be a fantastic sunny ride through a gorgeous rushing river canyon, with towering rock formations and easy sweeping curves. I finally got onto some dirt roads going to the springs themselves, and finally realized the benefits of the sidecar – so much fun on dirt! On pavement you have to push the bars through the curves, on gravel it is more like skating though. After meeting some fun people at the springs, I decided there was no need to make more miles, better to camp with some good folks, and go for a few more soaks. Everyone had fantastic bud to share. I set off the get some beer and food at the store (which was 20 miles away) dumped most of my kit at camp, and left Duke with some solid folks. Riding with more balanced bike and a good buzz was so much fun! It now made sense to me why sidecars were so popular in the early days when paved roads were much less prevalent. The night got pretty chilly (ameliorated by a honking camp fire) and the morning was a cold start – headed up for a soak to warm up, then off riding again. I rode up to Crater lake, a gorgeous caldera lake – but it was cold up there. I gassed up – putting in a quart of oil since it was so low. That turned out to be a not so great decision.

The mountains opened up to forested plains now, then more desert, and through fields and over hills. Nice to sort of wander around with a general idea of direction, but not locked into any one route.

I was trying to make it up to the Columbia River gorge to pickup highway 12 – the Lewis and Clark route west – through to Lolo Pass in Montana. I had did this ride many years ago (also on a /5) and it was superb. I think they call it the dragon’s tail. 250 miles of solid curves through the mountains following the Clearwater River. Putting that much oil in was a mistake. I was 50 miles or so from the gorge when the bike started sputtering badly. The points again. I pulled the front cover off, and sprayed them with some compressed air – which helped for a few miles – but I was almost out of gas. The bike was running, barely, having to push it up to high revs to get anything to happen – halting, missing, sputtering my way into Grass Valley as it was starting to get dark – hoping for anything like a gas station or mechanic that could help. I pulled up to some pumps – but they were closed. Everything in this sleepy little town was closed – like a ghost town. I drained out a lot of the oil in the hopes that would help, but no luck. I knocked on a door, and the folks nicely told me about a campground a few blocks away, which they helped me push the bike to. There was no cell coverage, so getting a call out to the airhead network wasn’t happening. Luckily the campground had wifi – and I got in touch with Paul Rhodes in AZ who had the BMOA book with listing for people who will come out with a trailer, pick you up, and help you fix the bike – pretty cool, eh? Tedd Lovell was the 2nd name, and he came out Sunday afternoon with his trailer, which perfectly fit the bike and sidecar.

Tedd trailered us to his house/garage, where we started looking at the points. Efforts to clean the points and set the gap all ended with the engine not kicking over. This was starting to feel a lot like Ely all over again. All the Portland (85 miles west) BMW shops were going to be closed till Tuesday, and even if they had the seal and points in stock, that would mean getting on the road late Tuesday, which would blow the timing I needed to get Duke on a plane to the UK. Necessity being the mother of invention, we took out the points, filed and buffed them, drilled a drain hole in the timing plate to drain the oil, and used a washer at the bottom of the front cover to allow any oil that leaked out to drain out and not fling around the points – causing them to get coated with carbon. Even with this fix, taking the plugs out to see if there was a spark showed that the spark was weak no matter what. Same prob as Ely. The head mechanic had gotten new points and a condenser to work , but this was looking like another dead end – not enough spark again. Tedd happened to have a capacitative discharge ignition box that he planned on using for his Karman Gia, but wasn’t using. This box worked a lot like the Mark III box many people end up getting for old airheads – it still uses the points – but it is more for the timing signal – and pumps out an electronically generated spark of much more voltage than the stock points. We set it all up, and tried it, and viola! It worked. Had breakfast, got some great tips on routes to avoid interstates but still make good time, and hit the road!

Although I had planned on going highway 12 again, time wasn’t on my side here. 12 was going to put me out a day more than I had. I needed to crank out the miles if I was to make it to Colorado Springs by Thursday/Friday. Tedd had set me up with a route that would get me down and over faster, but still on nice roads. I decided to push almost 500 miles out, riding in the dark for a couple hours to get me east enough to get on the other side of the Tetons by Tuesday. Although Jackson was a lovely place – it was going to be cold up there – and I knew that accomodations in Jackson were going to be pricey – and it was just too cold to camp with my kit.

Wow what a pretty ride up to and through the Tetons. I stopped for gas at the bottom of the hill leading up to Jackson, and there were a couple of bicycle bikers that were hanging out with dogs at a picnic bench. I saw the guy coming into the store, and quickly noticed these were my kind of people. So I took a much needed break and hung out with them for an hour or so. They were a bit of an odd couple – literally - she was very together and neat, with all Ortleib panniers on a Long Haul Trucker, he had a Marin hybrid pulling a trailer with all his stuff piled in mish-mash. She was pretty young but had worked in a bike store in Madison, and had heard of City Bikes. Both were on a multi-month bike journey, and we talked as the dogs played. He had the cutest little shepherd mix puppy that reminded me of Duke at his age. Duke still has a lot of pup in him, and the two of them had a blast.
I was still getting sputtering at high altitudes, but that was probably as much about carbs than the points. What was killing me was construction at altitude where I had to follow a slow moving pilot car. I keep needing to rev up high to keep the bike running. It was COLD and we were pretty high up, so that meant motel – it was going to freeze for sure at night. I found a nice little cabin in Dubois, and the lady at the desk just loved Duke, so I asked her to give me a cute dog discount – I think she took a buck off, but it is the thought that mattered. Morning was a cold hard start.

After the Tetons, going from Dubois to Kremling was more of a push through high plains. Not terribly interesting, and quite chilly. Duke and I pushed through the miles. Once nearing Colorado, the scenery picked up - beautiful vistas again. I needed to make time so that the last fun day, tomorrow, I could take a lot slower. In Kremmling i found the cheapest (yet nice) place I stayed in all trip (it was literally freezing at night) for like 17 bucks a night plus a 10 pet fee.

I got another tip on riding out of Kremmling, riding dirt roads along the Colorado river through to the road to Aspen and over Independence pass. Following the Colorado was just stunning. Dirt roads always become the most memorable riding you do - not only are they generally more scenic, there is usually little or no traffic. The best is where it is shorter to take the dirt road, then you make time and have a great ride.
Once I got to 70 again, it was a ride through the rockies on what must be the most dramatic section of the highway through to Glenwood Springs. The springs were totally mobbed, so I decided to go for Independence pass while it was still somewhat warm and sunny. Riding through aspen trees just turning was lovely, although the road was somewhat rough. The pass itself was higher than I had been on the trip so far at 12,000 feet, and I met some great people up on top - one who gave me a tip on some great hot springs near Buena Vista. I headed for the hot springs - which were such a great way to round out my last night. Met some great people there and camped out for the (sigh) last night.

Back in the van rolling east.

Burning up the miles. Got VERY lost somewhere at night in West Virginia, finally finding a straight road - route 48 that connected with 55 and 66.

Getting back to DC was really about getting Duke and me on the next plane out of here. DC would be here whenever I decided I needed to come back. T

I had been in DC for over 25 years. About 24 of those had been spent plotting a way to get out and do what I was doing and about to do. Of course I did get to do a lot of the Americas already, but what ahead promised to be really exotic and new to me.

Arrived safe and sound with the Duke in the UK. There was a real snafu at the air cargo place when we arrived. The crate was too small, and there was very little time to do anything about. A frantic round of phone calls ensued, and lucky for us Luftansa had a custom crate more than big enough for Duke just down the road. Tape measures and dog in hand, we rushed off to work it out. Duke loved the new crate and quickly settled in for the long flight.

Everything starts making sense again.

Finally we had arrived to get some much needed rest. We had been naughty and not told Thomas and the kids that I was coming for a few weeks yet. The surprise gag went over hilariously. Thomas had been prepping for his moto license for days before, and now it looked like having both a close friend and overland travel buddy was looking more realistic.

Arriving in Steep I immediately felt the weight of the alone against the world feeling lifting, the gnawing feeling of alienation finally soothed away by authentic love and affection. I had a taste of this at Space Gnomes, but there is nothing like really long time (20 plus years) friends (with mutual understanding, respect and value) embracing again. This would be my new home base to stage my global adventures!

I am starting to prep for the trip, get a new bike (F650gs), and head down to North Africa to winter over at some point. A very exciting development that Thomas has gotten a bike as well, and is talking about going to Siberia/Mongolia etc next summer. Maybe it will happen, and if it does it is gold.

The process for the next part of my journey is far more complicated than it was in the Americas. Carnet de Passage (and a bank guarantee that), International Drivers License, non-resident motorcycle insurance, European road taxes, etc etc. Gas is much more expensive. Many more languages to know. But I am psyched even as it means more challenges - more stuff in the way means greater satisfaction in overcoming them.

I had spent lots of time in Europe, and I forgot just how much I missed the cultural and intellectual sophistication - everything is so old and beautiful. I feel SO energized by the people here.