- I’m Riding My Motorcycle to Argentina
- Official Press Release – Traveling Off the Grid, on YouTube
- Preparing the KLR before my Latin America trip
- What to take on a year long motorcycle trip
- My First Day on the Road
- YouTube Video Map
- Blogging Lacking But Video Logging Booming!
- After 40 Days on the Road
- Mexico City’s Killing Me
- The Journey Begins
- Chicago via Denver and St. Louis
- Leaving Chicago Behind
- My First Couch Surfing Experience
- Video of Mexican Police Shaking Me Down
- Interview With Overland Expo
- Entering Into Mexico – Extortion and Inviting Hosts
- News Coverage Over Extortion Video
- Leaving Mexico and Entering Guatemala
- Twisty Roads, City Labyrinth and a Dog Bite
- Unmaintained Motorcycles, Serendipitous Lodging and My Love Affair with Andre
- Lingering Paranoia and Meeting Another Solo Traveler
- Bug Zapper Skills
- Riding Beemers, Replacing Helmet, and Cricket Tacos
- How to be Alone
- Mexican Bus Ride, Riot Police and Church Irony
- Survivor’s Guilt, a Shift in Perspective and the Overrated Mind
- Catching Up: Real De Catorce, Mexico
- Truck Blocking the Road, Guatemala
- The Schizophrenic Bolivian Vagabond [Day 178]
- Couch Surfing in San Jose, Costa Rica [Day 108]
- The Water Filled Vodka Bottle – San Jose, Costa Rica [Day 110]
- Creatures Stirring on Christmas Eve, Playa las Lajas, Panama [Day 125]
- Video Trio: Honduras Traffic, Mayan Temple Climbing, & Nalgene Hack
Being on the road never felt this terrible before. Every mile that turned over on my odometer was another mile away from my former life, the familiar, and of course Beth. I contemplated turning around, but kept the KLR pointed towards Chicago. I tried to remind my emotional mind that this is what I really wanted.
I camped at an RV park. They had wifi. I was really roughing it… I was heading for Denver but knew I wouldn’t make it there that day. The days of 500-700 mile days were behind me. My pace is slower and more soulful if that makes any sense.
With a liter of fuel in my camping stove’s tank I had some auxiliary fuel that I could use to test the boundaries of the KLR’s range. She would cut out around 140 miles. I would swerve back and fourth, engine dead, clutch pulled in while drifting to get the trapped fuel on the right side of the fuel tank to slosh over to the left where it could flow into the petcock. It worked half of the time.
Although I was displaced 400 miles from Phoenix, yesterday I felt like I was standing still. Today I had gained mental momentum and was feeling better about the path that lay before me.
I saw a sign welcoming campers, so I pulled off to find that it was a kind of mineral spa and resort. Everyone was wandering around in pink and blue robes and slippers. I cut through the pool and courtyard area with my Aerostich suit and shit kicking motorcycle boots with helmet in hand. The man at the front desk informed me that camping spots cost $22 USD. I tried to haggle down to $15 USD insisting that I didn’t require any amenities and just a place to sleep for the night. He didn’t budge so I rode 20 miles down the road ad pulled off onto a forest trail and camped in obscurity while I watched the sun set as the moon rise.