Over the years, we’ve seen some beautiful places during our travels. Some because of natural beauty, and others because of the local culture. The more miles we acquire, the more we come to appreciate not just the places, but the people we meet along the way.
This trip has been a lot of the same kind of memories. I was convinced that people would be less inclined to approach a traveling couple than a solo traveler. In some instances, it seems that has held true. In fact, what I’ve found is that I can use Diana as a “carrot” to start conversations. This usually happens when she is left standing by the bike, in all her gear, while I go inside a store or other place. I think the attraction of a solo female traveler is strong, and whether it’s that people see her that way when I’m missing, or if they’re just hesitant because of my “Grumpy Duck” face, it seems to work. Often, I’m in the store paying for gas or filling our drink bottles, and over our helmet intercoms I hear her respond to someone who has approached. In other instances, people see us getting on the bike, and they can’t believe there is actually room for her amongst all the bags, so they stop to watch and often comment.
We’ve met a lot of great people in the past four months, even if it’s just a short conversation in a parking lot. From Jimmy in Lizella, Georgia, who recently bought a Versys 650 and wants to travel, to Andrew in East Texas; the Montana bicyclist in northern California on his way to San Francisco (and the Washington bicyclist in Astoria, Oregon on his way to San Diego); the “mailman” in Idaho (Tom and Erin will know who and what I am referring to here — a story left untold on these pages); our friend Dave’s wife AnneMarie in Alaska whom we met for the first time on this trip, and her son Joshua & daughter-in-law Kayla and their friends with whom we shared a dinner, and introduced us to new podcasts; Michael at the Tourist Park campground in Idaho Falls who saw us pull in and, believing that there were no spaces left, offered to share his (turns out there was one space left, so we took it, then shared stories with Michael), and later that same night, Kevin and Ron, who arrived even later on their bikes, and since there were no spaces left, we shared ours with them. And Tony Adams, the bicyclist pulling his house, who has traveled this way for 21 years and covered much of the US.
We ran across Tony Adams on the side of the road outside of Hugo, Colorado, and offered our gallon of water to fill his bottles. He is an amazing guy.
Then there are the homeowners we’ve met on our housesitting gigs. And too many more great people than we can mention here. Along the way, some people see the Texas license plate and are just curious about where we’ve been and where we are going. Others want to share their travel stories. Some want to learn more about how to travel like we do, so they invite us to dinner, or to their homes.
So while we will always make a list of places we want to see when we begin planning each leg of our journey, it’s really the people along the way that create the strongest impressions and memories. Because of them, we can’t wait to hit the road again.
This leg of our travels ended up being a bit shorter than we had originally intended. We arrived home about three weeks early. Well, not quite home…we have a housesitter taking care of our home and cats, and our original agreement was through October 15th. Therefore, we are housesitting for others in the Austin area for a few more weeks. So close…
The Numbers
Number of days on the road: 138
Total miles covered: 22,448
Number of states and provinces visited: 26
Average: 163 mi/day
Number of nights camped: 44
Number of nights free: 57
Number of nights in hotels: 37
Analysis and Lessons Learned
Our housesitting gigs helped defray the cost of hotel rooms, which we usually only took when it was raining, near freezing, or necessary due to some other commitment. We typically set a rule for ourselves that one hotel room a week is our limit; we exceeded that this trip.
Likewise, we broke our other “rules” on this trip as well: Rule #1: Don’t travel more than 250 miles a day.
While we averaged 160 miles per day, due to all of the days we didn’t move (or spent on a ferry), we exceeded 250 miles on 33 different days. Rule #2: Don’t travel more than 4 days a week.
This rule forces us to slow down, spend more time in places, and see more. It doesn’t mean we have to ride for four days and then sit somewhere for three. They don’t have to be consecutive days. While we actually did average out to only four days a week over the entire trip, we actually spent several weeks with only one day a week off, but then countered it with nearly a week off here and there.
We did do fairly well with Rule #3: Don’t ride at night. We only got caught on the road after dark twice. That’s still two too many though.
I had the advantage of spending a year on the road six years ago. This was Diana’s first long trip, and the longest she has ever been away from home, her kids and grandkids, and our cats. It was a good learning experience for both of us, in terms of learning her limits on daily mileage in the saddle, temperature limitations (both hot and cold), and how long she can go without beginning to experience burnout. These are all lessons we will take with us on the next leg, and we will strive to stick to our above rules as well.
Due to COVID, we spent the past four and a half months mostly in the US, with the exception of six days in Canada. Since we were in the States. we were more familiar with many of the places we went, and we ended up turning this ride into more of a “vacation” type trip instead of the nomad “traveler” lifestyle we seek. Also, having other commitments in the US created an artificial “end-date” that made it feel more like a vacation, and a bit more rushed. This is something we’ve already discussed between us, but will continue to work on. In order to fully experience other cultures and locales, we need to be able to immerse ourselves in them. This will require some adjustments to our travel style, and probably a few new “rules”.
Now it’s time to do some heavy duty cleaning and prep on the bike and gear, and begin charting our route for the Spring. Fingers crossed, we’ll finally be able to ship the bike to Europe by then and get rolling.
Ironic, yes, but after months on the road, we miss our home and furry critters, and we always start to feel this way. But it seems to be a temporary feeling.
We’ve been home for ten days now. We had originally intended to travel to the northeastern US before returning home, but due to a commitment in Austin in early October we decided to head south early. Our amazing housesitter who took care of our home and cats for five and a half months was due to depart October 15th, so we spent the last three weeks house sitting for others in the Austin area. This was a win-win: it gave our sitter the full time we had originally agreed on, since she had another sit scheduled at the end of ours, and it gave us a few more reviews on TrustedHousesitters.com, which we hope to use to find house sits in Europe and Australia during our upcoming travels.
Speaking of which, we have already begun planning the next leg. Assuming the world continues to improve and open up over the next few months, we’ll adjust our European itinerary that we had hoped to begin this year, and move it forward, adding a few new stops we’ve gathered from people we met during this year’s travels. Our house sitter will return again for part of our travels, but we’ll begin the search for another sitter in a couple of months. All of our travel vaccinations are complete. We’re hoping AirCanada’s Fly and Ride bike-shipping program resumes in the Spring; if not, we’ll change our departure/export point.
In between, our friend Heike from Germany (whose Kawasaki has been stored here at our place for the past two years while we all sit out the pandemic) will hopefully be able to fly here over Christmas. We’re planning to ride together to Mexico, which will give her the chance to become familiar with the border crossing and some of the country before she sets off on her own at a later date.
So for now, it’s good to be home. But that wanderlust itch is always there, begging to be scratched.
Dan and his “fully loaded” Hawk 250 (Yes, that is his entire travel kit, including camping gear). These bikes and their direct relatives are everywhere in Mexico and Central America (more 150s than 250s, but both exist), and parts are plentiful south of the border. Always great to see more people proving that you don’t have to spend a fortune to see the world, and Dan’s 250 will blend right in as he heads south.
Dan stopped by this week on his way through Texas. Well, actually, Dan broke down very close to here, and posted a message looking for some help. By the time I saw it, he had already had several offers, and was well on his way to repairing his bike. A few days later, he stopped by and we spent an evening trading travel stories, and the next morning checking over his bike.
Dan is a relative newcomer to motorcycle travel, but definitely not to travel. He has already spent time in several other countries, including hiking in Nepal, and bought and rode a small motorcycle through Vietnam and Laos. He decided to leave his job and travel full time just before the pandemic, and was lucky when he was able to return to work until things calmed enough that he could travel.
He left Wisconsin about a month ago, headed south to follow the warmer weather, with plans to continue through Mexico (at least) before heading to California to continue hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. Being a backpacker, he knows how to pack: his backpack is the entirety of his gear, strapped to a home-made rear rack that his father made from a cutting board. No tank bag, no panniers, no tool roll. A great job of traveling light!
Over dinner Sunday night we traded tales and information. We had hoped to be in Vietnam last month, and Thailand right now, but for us those places are now postponed until this time next year due to travel restrictions. It was great to add some new sights to our itinerary, as Dan loves to explore caves and waterfalls, and he had a few suggestions that were missing from our list. In return I gave him my route through Mexico and Guatemala from my 2015 trip.
We may cross paths again, depending on how fast or slow Dan travels through Mexico this month. Hopefully we’ll see him again down the road.
As the world continues to react to this pandemic in ever-changing ways, we reflect on the past year of our travels, and acknowledge that we have only so much control over our destiny and destinations. Like everyone, we had other plans for 2020 and 2021, but we’re thankful for the travels we were able to enjoy in the past year, and the people we met along the way. We hope to continue the journey in ’22, wherever it may lead us. And we encourage others to dream, plan, commit to your dreams and enjoy every fork in the road, regardless of how many topes you may encounter.
Our friend Heike from Germany has had her KLR650 stored in my shop for two years, waiting for Covid restrictions to ease and allow her to return to the States. Finally in November, the US began allowing foreign visitors again, and she quickly booked a flight to Texas. We had discussed a trip to Mexico, and she was excited to go.
The first problem (for Diana and me) was that we had sold the 700 Tenere in October, and ordered a new one, which was supposed to arrive mid-December. But by the beginning of December, we found out it wouldn’t arrive until February of ’22. This left us with few options in our current stable of bikes. After a bit of discussion, we decided that if we were going to spend two months riding through Vietnam, Laos, and Thailand 2-up on a small (150cc) bike, we might as well practice now.
We picked Heike up at the Austin airport on Christmas Eve, and together we spent Christmas Day packing and preparing for nine days in Mexico. Heike took the KLR for a short afternoon ride to get reacquainted with it, and Diana and I practiced our minimalism, packing everything we needed into the small tank bag and rear tail bag on the Honda CRF250L.
This is a fully loaded bike for nine (or more) days and 2000+ miles of 2-up touring, including all clothes, shoes and toiletries for two people, tools, tire tools, air pump, spare inner tubes, phone chargers, all necessary paperwork for border crossings, snacks, water, chain lube, and more. No camping gear, as lodging in Mexico is very reasonable. Is it comfortable? Don’t be ridiculous, it’s a 250 and we aren’t small people. But it’s fully capable.
Warning: I don’t recommend or endorse overloading a motorcycle beyond the GVWR. If you don’t know what you’re doing, and you aren’t willing to accept any and all consequences for ignoring the manufacturer’s limits, don’t do it.
By that evening we were loaded up and ready to head out the next morning.
DAY ONE: Run For The Border
We got a fairly early start for what we knew would be a long, boring day. Our destination was Pharr, Texas, on the Mexican border, about 450km or 280 miles away. The weather forecast was calling for no rain and nice temperatures for the entire nine days, so of course we left in drizzling conditions.
Setting off in the drizzle.
We initially set off on a winding route, following Heike’s GPS, which was set to avoid highways and tolls, and apparently anything that resembled a thoroughfare. After an hour or so and 32 miles, we decided to jump on the highway and speed things up a bit. The little CRF250 was doing amazingly well hauling both of us, and we were able to cruise at 60-65mph, while getting 56mpg. The only drawback was that the bike has a 2.1 gallon fuel tank, so we had to stop for fuel every 100 miles. This actually turned into a blessing though, as the seat is not built for 2-up touring, so we were happy to get off by the time we needed fuel.
We made it to our motel in Pharr before dark, and walked to dinner at the appropriately named Pato’s Tacos.
DAY TWO: Border Crossing and Into The Mountains
This morning was the first important walk-through for Heike, as the Immigration and Aduana process for getting the bikes into Mexico isn’t much different than the rest of the border crossings through Central and South America (with the exception of the Banjercito deposit required in Mexico). We discussed the basic procedures of:
Check yourself in
Check your bike in
Check your bike out
Check yourself out
Within a short time we were riding away from Puente Internacional Anzalduas and were headed towards the Sierra Madre Oriental mountains. After passing through General Bravo, China, and General Teran, we skirted Montemorelos and headed to Linares, where we started up into the mountains to Galeana, our destination for the evening.
At 5,400 feet elevation, Galeana has a nice, cool climate and low humidity. The main plaza here is well decorated at Christmas time, with a large tree and lots of lights, and kids and families were enjoying the evening in the square.
We wandered the square, ate dinner at a small street-food court nearby, had some tequila ice cream for dessert, and hit the sack.
My favorite restaurant in Galeana was closed this evening, so we headed to the local food court. This began our trip’s dining strategy of picking three different dishes and sharing.
DAY THREE: Real de Catorce
We took the longer, more scenic route from Galeana, down through Doctor Arroyo, staying in the mountains longer rather than dropping down to the long, straight highway to Matehaula from Galeana. The road was good, and the temperatures again were just about perfect. Eventually we made it across to Matehuala and continued west on the Altiplano to the turnoff to Real de Catorce.
Real de Catorce is an old silver mining town. It was nearly abandoned, but has had a resurgence in interest based on tourism. The town sits at the top of an 18km cobblestone climb, and you must go through a mile-long tunnel to access the town. And not a straight tunnel…there’s a hard right turn in the middle of the tunnel that adds to the fun. The tunnel is not wide enough for two-way traffic, so especially on days like today, with so many tourists during the holidays, it’s necessary to allow a string of one-way traffic at a time. The line of cars waiting to pass through the tunnel was more than a half mile long, but we rode to the front on the bikes and were allowed to pass through ahead of the cars.
The road sign for Real de Catorce is covered in traveler’s stickers, enough that it’s almost unreadable. The cobblestone road can be seen behind the sign.
Even so, we managed to meet a car head-on in the tunnel. We were able to get around the car, but the ambulance behind us was not. We’re not sure who gave in and backed up, but one of them had to.
Diana and Heike did a walking tour of the town while I stayed back at the bikes. I had been here before, so I was happy to just hang out and people watch.
Real de Catorce.
After touring the town, we headed back through the tunnel and down the cobblestones, and back to Matehuala, where we took two rooms at the Real Villas Motel, a “love motel” on the edge of town. For those not familiar, these motels are designed for discreet affairs: you pull into a garage attached to your room, and pay through a rotating box on the wall. There is no direct contact with the staff or other guests. The rooms are very clean, and aside from the somewhat sex-oriented layout (mirrors, jacuzzi tub, porn on the television, etc), offer a nice stay and a secure place to park the bikes. While they charge in four hour blocks, they also have an “all night” rate. We paid around $22 per room for the night.
Real Villas “love motel”. Note that there are no “front doors”; you drive into the garage, close the door, and enter the room through the garage. The revolving “can” on the wall to the right of the garage door is to exchange cash and receive deliveries (food, drinks, etc).
We all had a good laugh at the Love Motel. They only had one room that was ready, so we had to wait in the garage while they cleaned the other room. Heike joined us in the garage as we waited. The maid kept looking at us with a sly smile that said “I know what the three of you are doing”. Uh, no, you don’t.
DAY FOUR: San Miguel de Allende
In the morning we stopped at Normita’s for breakfast.
Small roadside restaurant in Matehuala where I ate with James near the beginning of my round-the-world trip in 2015. Still good food and friendly people.
Huevos al Gusto. Yum.
Norma handled our rusty Spanish well and with great patience.
Then we headed for San Miguel de Allende. Just south of San Luis Potosì we stopped at the Hacienda Corralejo Tequila showroom for a quick tour. It’s basically a storefront for the brand, which is produced in Guanajuato, but a beautiful storefront it is.
Heike was the only one smart enough to wear sunglasses as we posed for a photo looking directly into the sun.
The volume of products, and relatively cheap prices made me wish we were in a car (or truck).
Looking up from the “cellar” below.
Back on the highway, we arrived at our apartment in San Miguel by mid-afternoon. We tucked everything away, then walked downtown to the Jardin. Being December 29th, plans were underway for the New Year’s Eve celebration, and a large stage was being constructed between the Jardin and the beautiful church across from it.
The church in the center of San Miguel de Allende is even more impressive at night.
The jardin in the center of town was again all lit up with Christmas decorations.
From there we made our way to our favorite Italian restaurant in San Miguel, Francesco’s, where we had a great meal and drinks before heading back to the apartment for the night.
Pizza, lasagna, bruschetta…a great Italian meal on the rooftop in a central Mexico city.
In the morning we walked downtown again to the large Mercado area and roamed the booths for a while. Jorge, our host at the apartment, was kind enough to allow us to check out at 1pm, so we wandered San Miguel until it was time to load up and head the short 60 miles to Guanajuato.
This photo doesn’t do the Mercado justice. It’s several blocks long, with both indoor and outdoor merchants, food stands, produce, and more.
DAYS FIVE & SIX: Guanajuato
As we chose not to take a GPS on the Honda for this trip, and we wanted Heike to become comfortable with navigating in Mexico, we followed and let her lead. And as we sort of expected, within minutes of approaching Guanajuato, her GPS led her into the tunnels under the city. Of course, once you’re in the tunnels, you lose GPS connection, so when you exit a tunnel, it takes a while to re-establish a connection, which isn’t easy to deal with when in traffic. So after a few laps of the tunnels, we eventually peeled off, and I put the address for our apartment into my phone and we followed it. (I admit that I knew we were in the wrong place, but I wanted her to experience the tunnels and the confusion of the city first.)
Even with the address and above the city on the Panoramico, the location of the apartment wasn’t exact. We ended up exchanging text messages with the owner, who then sent his mother to fetch us. Fortunately we were only about five houses away, but this is a very hilly place, and we all felt sorry for the woman.
Close, but not quite…we had to wait for Mama to come find us and lead us to the apartment, which turned out to be less than a block away. Why do we rent apartments? Because they come with secure inside storage for the bikes, and if you split a two-bedroom apartment three ways, it’s cheaper than a hotel room.
The apartment turned out to be a great place, although as expected, being up on the Panoramico road (the ring road above and around the city), it was about a twenty minute walk to downtown, and the first five minutes was steep.
We had two days in Guanajuato. The first day we walked to the Centro and people-watched, walking around the Jardin, the Teatro Juarez, and up towards the university. Since it was a holiday weekend, the place was packed with tourists, mostly from Mexico City, but many from around the world.
Teatro Juarez, at the center of Guanajuato.
The church is impressive, but Minnie Mouse and Captain Jack Sparrow kind of takes the awesome out of it. You can definitely tell you’re in a tourist town during the holidays, when Mickey, Minnie, Captain Jack and the Grinch are all walking around.
The Monumento El Pipila, as seen from below.
We had another great meal in a small back-street restaurant — again ordering three different plates and sharing them — and stopped in a small panaderia to buy some items for breakfast before heading back to the apartment. We bought enough donuts and bakery items for the three of us to eat breakfast for two days and snack on, and I think we paid around $1.50 for all of it.
The following morning we took the funicular up to the Pipila monument, and had huitlacoche on sopas. If you like mushrooms, you’ll love huitlacoche, and we look forward to it each time we visit Guanajuato.
Huitlacoche, or corn fungus, on a sopa, with a small dip of salsa on the side.
Guanajuato, as seen from the Monumento El Pipila.
We walked back down into town and up to the Callejon del Beso (Alley of the Kiss). This is a very famous tourist spot, and is based on a Romeo-and-Juliet local story about a forbidden love affair that ends tragically. Tourists line up to take their photo reaching across the alley from opposing balconies for a kiss.
Without a doubt, one of the most photographed spots in Guanajuato: the Callejon del Beso.
We then walked to the Alhóndiga de Granaditas. This building is historically significant as the place where Mexican insurgents attacked the Spaniards of Guanajuato during the Mexican War of Independence in 1810. Then we wandered through some of the back streets, stopping for coffee at my new favorite coffee shop, El Horla, before heading to Xocolatl for some delicious artisan chocolates.
Alhóndiga de Granaditas, or simply Alhóndiga. A very important location in the history of Mexico.
Beautiful artisan chocolates from Xocolatl. These nine pieces cost about fifty cents a piece.
A piece of chocolate with grasshopper parts in it. What does it taste like? Salty chocolate, that’s all.
It was New Year’s Eve, so we spent time downtown people-watching and enjoying the party atmosphere. Behind the Templo de San Diego Alcala, we found a small square where Mariachi bands performed, and a large crowd gathered to participate. The band played Cielito Lindo (you’d recognize the chorus: “Ay, ay, ay, ay. Canta y no llores”), and then crossed the street, leading the crowd up a stairway where a neon sign glowed with the same verse.
More great food, drinks, and people, until it was time to catch an Uber back to the apartment in time to watch the fireworks over the city at midnight.
DAY SEVEN: The Beginning of the End
We were sad that our time in Mexico was coming to an end too soon, but we had commitments in Texas that required us to return. We left Guanajuato vowing to return again soon. It was New Year’s Day, we were more than 800 miles from home, and we needed to be back in a few days. So we rode north via the highway, stopping only for fuel and food. It was warm, and we were tired.
Long, hot ride heading north. We stopped for fuel, and took advantage of a bit of shade over the sidewalk.
We made it all the way back to Galeana that evening. This time my favorite restaurant in town was open, and we spent the evening at La Casona del General, enjoying yet another great meal, and my new favorite drink, the Carajillo.
Behind the bar with Armando at La Casona de General, Galeana. Armando has owned and operated this restaurant for over 30 years, and expanded about a year ago, adding this great bar and outdoor patio area. Great food, great people.
DAY EIGHT: Border Disorder
The next morning brought a bit of a surprise. A cold front had come through, and the temperatures had dropped considerably. Along with the cold came strong winds, making our ride even more tiring as we pushed for the border crossing near Reynosa.
As always, leaving Mexico was straightforward and smooth. We checked our bikes out, received the refund of our vehicle importation fees, and got our passports stamped. Then we rode across the long Anzalduas bridge and into the nightmare that we knew was coming: the US entry point. Since our last visit, they have installed vehicle X-Ray scanners. I assume this was an attempt to speed up the vehicle processing, but as far as I can tell, it has had little to no effect, and is actually a bit of a joke. There are signs before you get there that say if you don’t want to be X-rayed, you can get in the far left lane and have your vehicle hand-searched. The reality is that people get in the far left lane, bypass the X-ray machines, then merge back across into any lane. There is nothing preventing this save for a few orange cones that are spaced far apart. So as far as I could see while we waited for literally three hours in line, about 20 percent of the cars just bypassed both the X-rays and the hand search.
While we were waiting in line, the line we were in (marked “All Vehicles”) changed to “Ready Pass Only”. As there was no way for Heike to use the Ready Pass Lane with her German passport, we changed lanes. Then within about 20 minutes, since nobody was using the Ready Pass lanes, they changed them back to “All Vehicles”, and people from behind us in line flooded those lanes. The whole US process is ridiculously inept.
We had arrived at the line for the US Port of Entry at 4:30pm. One mile and three and a half hours later, we were back in Mission, Texas for our last night at a hotel before home.
DAY NINE: The Slog Home
The ride from the Rio Grande Valley back to home north of San Antonio is less than scenic. Much of it is long, straight, flat two- or four-lane highway. We set off in 38 degrees and overcast conditions, but at least the wind of yesterday had died down. It warmed into the upper 40s by mid-day, but the dreary skies made us ready to be home. We stopped about every 80 miles to take a break (and for breakfast tacos in Falfurrias), and to re-fuel the Honda. Heike was able to gas up every other time the Honda needed fuel.
We rolled into the driveway about 4pm, cold and tired, but happy that we had enjoyed a great week of food, travel, people and sights in Mexico.
Heike spent another five days exploring the Austin-San Antonio area, looking at riding gear, bikes (a new Royal Enfield Himalayan may be in her travel future) and relaxing at the house. This morning we took her to the airport for her flight home. She’ll be back in June, but we may be (okay, hope to be) in Europe by then. We’ll cross paths again somewhere along the way, here, there, or on the road.
It’s taken a while, and we definitely had to jump through some hoops, but as it all came down to the wire, we were successful in initiating the next leg of our trip.
Just after returning from Alaska last September, we decided to sell the 2021 Tenere 700. It was a great ride, and did everything we asked. We put 20,000 miles on it over the summer of 2021.
Our faithful 2021 model 700 Tenere, home from Alaska, with most of the aftermarket parts removed and ready to be shipped to its’ new owner in Oregon.
Since we would be starting a three year journey this year, without the bike returning to the states during that time, we decided to start fresh and ordered a 2022 model last September. It turns out that this model is still incredibly popular, and in short supply. We originally thought the new bike would be here in December, and we’d have plenty of time to get it prepped, and do some test rides and a little camping before shipping it to Europe.
December came and went, and we received word that the bike wouldn’t arrive until mid-February. Meanwhile, we booked a quick trip to Iceland in January. We also learned that unlike six years ago, when I was able to ship my motorcycle airfreight between continents for just over $2000 per trip, things had changed dramatically. There were less flights overall, non-essential shipments were limited, and prices had gone through the roof. We had originally planned to ride to Toronto last year (if things opened up, which they didn’t), and ship the bike on Air Canada to Dublin, as Air Canada does a “Fly Your Bike” program each year. But since 2020 they’ve canceled that, and there was no firm commitment that it would be reinstated this year. So I started searching for quotes on shipping the bike by air to Europe, and was getting prices in the $10,000 range, with no guarantees on when it would arrive.
With airfreight out of the question, we switched to searching for a sea-freight solution. Again we immediately ran into issues. Most people have seen photos of the cargo ships backed up outside the Port of Los Angeles. Shipping containers themselves have become harder to find and arrange, and booking a shipment more difficult. I kept hearing the same issues: “You can deliver the bike to one of our ports, but we can’t tell you when it will get on the ship, and once it does ship, we can’t tell you how long it will take to clear customs, but plan for two to three months total.”
While we are fairly open with our schedule, we have been “rolling over” our Isle of Man TT reservations since 2020, saving our spot on the ferry from Heysham, England. So we had one hard date: we needed to catch that ferry on June 3rd. By early February, we didn’t even have a bike yet.
We finally got word the bike would arrive in Los Angeles on February 18th. Around the same time, I connected with Stefan Knopf from Germany. Stefan has been shipping bikes from Europe to Florida for Bike Week for thirty years. Right after Bike Week, he loads the bikes into containers and ships them back to Europe. I was able to confirm a spot in the last of his containers which would be closed up and headed to the port on March 18th.
If we waited for the bike to ship to our local dealer here in Texas, it might be another two to three weeks before we received it. At that point, I would have about one week to install all of our gear and ride to Orlando, Florida in time to put the bike in the container. But there was a bigger problem: in order for the bike to clear Customs, it had to be titled in my name. Texas doesn’t have an expedited title service. When I called the DMV to enquire about this, and explained the situation, I was told, “Nope, and good luck”. My recent experiences told me that it would take about 12 to 14 days to receive the title once I applied for it, and of course I couldn’t apply for it until I had the Manufacturer’s Certificate of Origin (MCO), which I would get with the bike. It was looking like we would be about a week late on making the shipping cutoff.
On February 21st, we were told the bike would arrive at Yamaha on the 23rd and would be ready to pick up on Friday the 25th. We rented a Hertz cargo van on the afternoon of the 23rd, and drove the 1350 miles straight through to California, picked the bike up, and drove straight back home, arriving home on Saturday the 26th. Just under three thousand miles in a little more than two and a half days. The bike was unloaded into the shop and I went to work installing all of the “stuff”. (Pro Tip: Ford High-Roof Transit cargo vans at Hertz: $118 for the week. Yes, you read that right. That’s $17 per day, with unlimited mileage.)
Sunday, February 27th. Bike is home, on the lift and the prep has begun. Seat, pannier racks, panniers, rear rack, GPS, skid plate, tool box, turn signals, USB outlets, heated grips, hand guards, footpegs, stiffer suspension, engine guards, and more. Remember, this is our house, and our mule, not just an “adventure” bike.
Our new ’22 model, with most of the modifications done except the skid plate. At this point, it has 6 miles on the odometer.
First thing Monday morning I went to the DMV and applied for the title. This would be the determining factor as to whether the bike got shipped or not. The prep work was fairly straightforward and took a few days. There was only one piece from our old bike that wouldn’t work: the skid plate we use has our tool kit mounted to it. The exhaust system on the 2022 model is slightly different, so the skid plate wouldn’t fit, and the 2022 model accessory skid plate was not yet available. So it was off to the local welding shop to modify the old skid plate to fit.
The final modification: since the ’22 uses a “cat-forward” exhaust system, the ’21 bash plate doesn’t fit, and the ’22 accessory bash plate isn’t available yet. Thus, it may not be pretty, but the ’21 bash plate was modified to fit. Since our tool box bolts to the skid plate (in the right of the photo) in order to place some heavy weight down low, we really needed the skid plate. Note: this skid plate and tool box is a Yamaha brand accessory, but Yamaha US doesn’t sell the tool box. So for those who might have this skid plate on their bike and wondered why there were four nut-serts on the left side, now you know.
The bike was finished and fully loaded on Friday, March 11th. The title had yet to arrive. In order to get to Orlando with a small safety margin, I would need to depart on Monday the 14th. I waited until the mail was delivered on Monday, and with still no title, I left for Orlando with a grand total of 150 miles on the odometer. I made it about another 150 miles before the first major hold-up:
An accident on Interstate 10 west of Houston had traffic parked for just under two hours. Because this was in a construction zone, there were concrete barriers on both sides of the two lanes, and with no exits, no one could get off. So everyone parked, had lunch, walked the dogs, and generally just waited until the lanes were opened again. Thankfully, it wasn’t August and 110 degrees out.
Once the traffic cleared, I made it through Houston before hitting rain. At that point it was looking like I might be riding in rain the entire way to Orlando. It was also getting dark, so I stopped for the night just east of Houston.
The next morning was clear and sunny, and I chased the rain clouds for the entire day, making it to Bonifay, Florida that evening. Once again, the rain had stayed ahead of me until the last fifteen minutes or so. Diana sent word: no title today. Things were getting tight. If the title didn’t arrive in the mail by Wednesday, all would be for naught, and I would turn around Thursday morning and start a slower ride home.
On Wednesday I again rode towards the rain clouds on wet roads but out of the rain. I was surprised when I made it into Orlando without getting rained on. Then my luck ran out. While sitting in stopped traffic on I-4, the heavens opened up. I was less than ten miles from the warehouse where I would deliver the bike, but traffic was stopped. It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, and the warehouse closed at 4:30. As the traffic began to move and I made it to my exit, my phone rang in my intercom. It was Diana calling to tell me the title had just arrived, and she was sending it FedEx to me at the Orlando warehouse for delivery the next morning.
I pulled into the warehouse just as they were closing, met Stefan, and grabbed a few things off the bike quickly. Stefan took me to a nearby hotel, and we made arrangements for him to pick me up in the morning.
On Thursday morning, I prepped the bike for shipment, removing the windscreen, mirrors, and GPS, disconnecting the battery, and filling out all the paperwork. We strapped the bike onto a shipping rack, and it was ready to be loaded into the container.
One last photo before the bike goes into the shipping container and onto the ship. See you again in about a month, buddy.
The title arrived at 10:30am, and the deal was done.
Large exhale. Phew.
I flew home Friday morning (via Detroit, because it was less than half the price of a direct flight, and time was no longer of the essence). The bike will arrive in Antwerp sometime in the last half of April, and we will meet up with the bike and Stefan at his place in Heidelberg, Germany a week or so later. Meanwhile, we will continue to work on route planning, and logistics. With the current situation in Ukraine and Russia, some of our plans have changed for this year, and likely next year as well, and will have to remain fluid.
We are just slightly more than two weeks away from resuming our world travels. The bike will arrive into Antwerp, Belgium in less than a week then be transported to Germany where we’ll meet up with it. The last of our gear is packed and ready, and we’re buttoning up loose ends. We have a few more things on our to-do list here before heading out, including some last minute prep around the house so our house-sitter won’t have to worry about the little things; some travel insurance issues; and a few places we want to book in Slovenia and Croatia, where we’ll head in the first couple of weeks in Europe. And we’ve already secured two house-sits in Manchester, England and Amsterdam, Netherlands.
Speaking of Croatia, we gained some great insights on Croatia and Greece travel this past week from an unexpected visitor. While riding through Mexico, Jake was looking for an interesting route from Grutas Tolontongo to Xilitla, and Googled it. One of the two hits was a post I had made on this blog from my 2015 trip, so down the rabbit hole he went, and eventually emailed us. A week or so later, and he rolled up in our driveway.
Jake had recently returned to the States from riding in the Baltic Region of Europe, picked up his BMW and headed south to Baja then over to mainland Mexico. Leaving Mexico, he stopped by for a couple of days, and we had a good conversation, swapping stories of where we’d been and where we’re headed. We’re hoping to catch up with him some time in the next year or two in Europe or Asia.
My brother and sister-in-law invited us to a “Going-Away” dinner at their place the other night.
It was a good chance to share some last-minute thoughts on our upcoming trip, and they shared a great travel book with us:
Since we both are big Foodies, this felt like the ultimate travels along a route somewhat similar to my 2015-16 trip, but with some great recipes included. I’m already looking forward to trying several of them. Note: Don’t even glance through this book if you are the least bit hungry, or I guarantee you will end up buying it!
Ten days to go. The bike arrived in Heidelberg, Germany today. We are wrapping up our house duties here in Texas, and preparing to hand over the reigns to our house-sitter, who left Denver today on a bit of a vacation route to here.
Well, it isn’t exactly the start to the trip that we were hoping for, but we’re starting nonetheless.
We left Austin, Texas on a direct Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt, Germany. I was surprised to find that our flight was direct, as there aren’t many places you can fly directly to out of Austin. We surmised that there must be a tech company connection between Austin and Germany that gave reason for this flight twice a week, but when we boarded the plane, very few people onboard, if any, looked like tech nerds. In fact, most looked like retired tourists, and many were simply connecting through Frankfurt to other countries in Europe. So we’re still a bit baffled about the logic behind the direct Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt from Austin.
It’s probably just a result of my advanced age, but for maybe the first time, I was wishing we had a connection rather than a direct ten hour flight. Sitting in my seat after five hours, watching the map on the screen and realizing we hadn’t even made it over Iceland yet, made the flight seem like forever. I used to do those long flights to Japan fairly regularly, and it never bothered me. I’m not sure why this one took its’ toll, but once we landed in Frankfurt at 9am local time (2am Texas time), we were beat. We had a shuttle ride to Heidelberg, where the bike is stored, and we spend most of Tuesday sleeping.
We ended up with Room #1: The BMW Room for our first two nights in Heidelberg, Germany.
The bathroom in the BMW Room. All BMW, All The Time.
Although sleeping most of Tuesday afternoon meant less sleep during Tuesday night, it was probably good that we at least slept Tuesday afternoon, as the motion-sensor light outside our room continuously flashed on and off every five minutes or so all night, creating a light show in the room that made it hard to sleep.
I was determined to stay awake all day Wednesday and get back on a normal schedule, so first thing in the morning, I found the bike and rolled it out of the warehouse to put the windscreen and mirrors back on, connect the battery, and fuel up. And that’s when the “fun” started: apparently at some point during its’ trek across the Atlantic, another bike (a red one, it appears from the paint left on my bike) decided to attack our new Tenere. The right pannier and lid suffered significant damage, and there is additional damage to the right handlebar switch, master cylinder, fairing, handguard, left pannier, and our TouraTech locking GPS mount. Ugh. I will unfortunately repeat the statement I made in 2016: “The only damage my motorcycles have ever suffered during my long rides is when they have been put into the hands of someone else.” This is one of the reasons that I do all of my own work on my bikes, but there are certain points that are out of my control, and shipping the bike is one of them. I did all I could do before handing it off, and, well, the results aren’t pretty.
Fortunately none of the damage prevents us from continuing on, although the pannier damage will likely make the pannier leak during rain, and it’s where we store our electronics, so some additional preparation will be necessary. I’ve beat the lid and the box back into shape as best I can with a hammer and two blocks of wood, but a water-tight seal is unlikely.
I also ended up having to ride into Mannheim today to a motorcycle shop to find some replacement straps for the pannier lid, as the straps were also damaged in the Attack of the Red Bike. Now back at our launch point, I think we are ready to go. Tomorrow is looking to be one of our longest days in terms of mileage, as the goal is to get out of Germany. It won’t be a fun day, since we’ll spend most of it on the highway (Autobahn), but we’re one day closer to where we want to be, and we can slow down after that. The temperatures and the weather thus far have been great, although as I type this, the rain has started. I’m sure it will be brief, but it’s a good chance to see if the pannier leaks while sitting parked at least.
I was laughing at this “Heidelberg Speedway” poster, with the “8 miles southwest of Pittsburg, PA” and “Tri-State Championship for Pennsylvania, New York and Ohio”, until I looked it up. There really is a Heidelberg, PA eight miles southwest of Pittsburgh, and it was named after Heidelberg, Germany, where a large number of its’ original settlers came from.
