Trail-Dust

by Alexander Tolchinsky

Read Part One: Glacier National Park

Read Part Two: The Calm Before the Storm

We began the following day with a hike up to Two Medicine pass where three valleys opened themselves before our eyes. Mountain goats flanked the west side, a wolverine kept guard over the east while hawks and eagles patrolled the endless sky, and glaciers and lakes for endless miles in every direction.

Before heading out to camp 2, after we returned from the pass, we decided to take a dip in the glacial lake, on whose shores stood our tents. Naked and free we ran into its chilling waters; within a few seconds we felt its icy grip at our throats and bones, and so quickly re-emerged, gasping for breath. But that half minute in the lake shot more life into us than a syringe of epinephrine to the heart. And so enveloped in Joie de Vivre we went along the valley to our second camp at Upper Two Medicine Lake. We stopped often on the way to gorge on huckleberries, and prayed the bears would not gorge on us. Within a couple of hours we discovered that our prayers were answered.

As we continued along the sunny path to our second camp, around a peaceful bend in the trail I heard the galloping of what sounded like horses. I yelled to Sarah to get out of the way of what looked like two horses. Within a split second she was running towards me and I realized they were not horses but two very large grizzlies, now within 30 ft of me.

What I discovered about myself at that moment is that when faced with danger, I stay pretty cool, and, am kind of stupid. I stood there with my bear spray in my left hand as my right was clicking shots off the camera hanging from my neck. After three shots, the second of the two beasts gave me a doubtful look, at which moment I ceased shooting. I looked him straight in the eye, something you are not supposed to do (nor are you to run away from them because they will think you are prey). I wanted to show him that all was well and that I meant no harm. After briefly considering us an aperitif, the two grizzlies disappeared into the bush, and the realization of how lucky we were reverberated throughout our entire being. Nevertheless, for the next hour I walked with bear spray in one hand and my army knife in the other. From that moment, every sound of grass rustling in the wind gave us a start.

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Not horses but two very large grizzlies, now within 30 ft of me.

My heart was slowly resuming its normal rhythm as we began approaching our new camp site. Along our traverse we saw a moose emerge from a small lake nearby; at that moment it seemed a perfect scene – our witnessing the natural order and routine of Glacier and its residents.

We reached the site shortly thereafter and found the three girls who camped near us the night before, along with two guys from Chicago, gathered in the cooking area – an unfortunate coincidence of groups meeting in an otherwise isolated part of the park. We were very hungry and the day was quickly drawing to a close, so after quickly breaking camp we joined the rest of our neighbors. Minutes after our food was ready we noticed the very same moose we saw earlier, grazing within 60ft of us. This could have been the beginning and the end of that encounter, however, the gentlemen from Chicago thought it a good idea to approach the moose for some portraits, you know, keepsakes and all that. The rest of the night went rather quickly into the abyss of fear and uncertainty.

At first the cow (female moose) started huffing and pricked up her ears, but the guys did not heed this obvious sign of hostility; by the time they did, she was in full territorial mode – mounting posts and rubbing her scent on the bushes and trees. Then, as we sat nervously watching her and eating our supper, she charged us. If you can imagine for a moment 1000 lbs of territorial tank-like mass rushing at you, against which running, knife, or spray have no chance, then you will understand fear.

We ran so fast – but we knew there was almost nowhere to go, nor could we outrun a moose. We took “refuge” on some logs lying by the shore of the lake and behind some small trees and bushes. These served little purpose other than to give our minds the illusion that at least we were safer there. Breathless and shaking with fear we decided to see if she was still there, so the other two guys and myself snuck up to a nearby tree – she saw us and charged again! This time we retreated for good.

She continued sniffing around, taking her time, all the while it was getting dark and cold in that rapid manner particular to the mountains. We stood around shaking for some time, but soon realized that we must ascertain her intent before it got too late. The three of us again ventured out to see where she was. We only had one good headlamp between us, so we crept slowly, barely breathing, knife and bear spray in hand – knowing full well that they are useless. I looked like a bad combination of Rambo and Elmer Fudd.

By the time we got access to two of three campsites, night was well upon us. By then our nerves were well worn, but staying up was not an option, it was getting very cold and we needed to get to our tents – though they offered no degree of safety, or, as it turned out, sleep. We finally found the moose bedded down for the night – right on the path to and directly opposite the girl’s tents. We decided that we could not risk them sleeping alone in such proximity to the cow, so we formed a four person raiding party to recover their bags and mats. We could not take the path, so we skirted the lake edge and crawled up to the tents with barely a breath between us.

Now we had the problem of figuring out who would fit where. My tent is barely meant for two people, one of the guys had a one person tent – both of our tents are for mountaineering, so when it says one or two person, it means there is no room between shoulder and wall. The other guy had a two-person tent. We managed to stuff 7 people in 3 tents. In my little shelter we had 2 bags, 2 pads and 3 people.

Between the grizzlies, freeze dried food, soreness from hiking, fear of being trampled, and stiffness in every joint and muscle from lack of motion in the tent, we passed the night with moments of shallow drifting and startling at every noise. Around midnight the wind started to howl and we emerged in the morning (alive) to find the mountains covered in a heavy fog with the imminent threat of “weather”.

Thankfully the moose was gone and we were able to pack up and hike out within a few hours. On our way out we saw her, and a few others, again at the smaller lake. Needless to say we did not stop to admire and take photos this time around.

To be Continued…
Watch for Part 4: The Big Mistake

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

By Alexander Tolchinsky

Read Part 1: Glacier National Park

Cobalt Lake

Glaciers, draining their purity into hundreds of streams and falls, hug the mountainsides. The peaks along massive ridges stand tall, but are reminiscent of fortress ruins rather than granite towers. One side of the valley stretching ever further toward the sky, the other crumbling away having served its term of glorifying our humble terra firma.

Alpine meadows with Beargrass, Indian Paintbrushes, Fireweeds, Asters and Lilly’s dancing in the breeze, glowing in the un-hazed sun. Huckleberry bushes as far as the eye can see, more than one could ever eat – though how we tried! Rose Hips, Blackberries, Salmon berries, currants, blueberries and thimbleberries – an amazing site, but I could not help but feel as though I too were on the menu when walking through endless acres of bear snacks.

Giant boulders, once part of towering facades, cleared chutes along the skirts and bases as they rolled like Juggernauts down the slopes killing hundreds of trees, and now lie peacefully with the offspring of the dead firs growing atop them, as if in defiance of their destruction.

At every turn of the path there lay a new wonder – another monument to patience and time; a delicate expression of color and perseverance; a sweeping view that makes it all but impossible to consider littering, strip-mining, or deforesting our precious home. But most do not come to see it, do not go beyond the safety and comfort of their dry walled nests; and so we waste and waste, and now our ears won’t hear the song of hundreds of songbirds known to our forefathers. I wondered how those within a few days drive could live out their lives never having seen the very best of what this world possesses.

That night we broke camp at 6500 ft. above sea level on the shores of Cobalt lake.

To be Continued…
Watch for Part 3: Of Moose and Bear

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

Glacier National Park

Click photos for large images

Glacier National Park

By the time I arrived in Alberta I was feeling very alone, and shaken by a week of crosswinds while riding across the middle of Canada. The many riders I passed on the road were going east. We extended our arms in greeting, quickly taking in each other’s steeds, the mounds strapped on the sides and rear, the stories that our gear told of where we had been and where we might be headed. We did not need words in order to share each other’s journey, and I was not in need of long conversations, rather I wanted someone riding by my side, going to the same place as I, someone with whom I could sit after the ride and without saying a word relive the deer that got in the way, the shockwaves from trucks that almost knocked us off, the tight curves around which we scraped our pegs, the incredible colors of the sky at dusk, the glory of peaks rising out of the horizon as we approach the Rockies.

My plan had been to continue north from Lethbridge and into Banff National Park, and then onward to Jasper and then again west. Glacier National Park in Montana was to be one of my stops on my way back east. But in Lethbridge I met some kindred spirits who, knowing little more about me than the color of my Honda Magna and the fact that I was from New York, invited me to ride with them to Glacier. This was completely out of my way. Though my plan was flexible, going straight south at this point made no sense at all. I knew, however, that a true journey is not one that you take. So I let my journey take me where she saw it best and I accepted their invitation.

Luke and Mitch had been friends for most of their lives. Both, as any good Alberta man must, put in years in the oil fields of the north. They each bore signs of the rougher life – the one most of us neither know nor wish to know. Luke kept his head shaved, wore earrings and prominently displayed his tattoos. Mitch on the other hand had a full beard and, like myself, kept his desecrations of the flesh well hidden. He was more readily recognized as a lumberjack with his flannel shirts, large cumbersome build, and hearty, honest laugh. Luke’s toughness was not feigned, it was simply of another kind – one more often associated with the city and its rapid pace fueled by cocaine and easy pleasures. These differences were irrelevant to the two friends because each saw beyond the clothes and the flash of carnival masks. They have seen each other fly and fall, laugh and cry, fight and run.

An unlikely match, except for our love of the road

We three were an unlikely match except for our mutual love and need for the road – another magic that the black top holds: it brings together more than cities with freight or people with money, it brings together and allows us to understand people foreign to our nature – thus broadening on a greater scale our acceptance of each other.

I arrived in Glacier some weeks ahead of schedule and with 2 new friends. It was nice to travel with some fellow bikers, if only for a couple of days. The following morning they left, and I met Sarah. She was also alone in the park and looking for someone with whom to hike. Within 10 minutes of meeting we were on the back of my bike cruising down the windy park road to get backcountry camping permits. A couple of hours later we were on our way to Snyder Lake for a warm-up day hike, Sarah’s sweet southern drawl accompanying us along the way. The more she and I talked the more similarities we found; though from backgrounds as disparate as our gender, she growing up in the Appalachian mountains of Virginia, we found an uncommon amount of parallels in our thoughts and ways. Sarah and I shared an incredible amount about ourselves, but it seemed as natural as we had known each other for years and not just a few hours.

The following day we found ourselves in the backcountry of southeastern Glacier, around Cobalt Lake.

Read Part Two: The Calm Before the Storm

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

Dateline: Mid-Atlantic

By “moto” photojournalist Douglas Graham

Click any photo for a full-size image

Doug Graham providing Moto-Support for spring training with the HPC List / Bicycle Outfitters U-19 riders in the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Northern Shenandoah Valley

It’s spring, and bicycle-racing season is here. Last year had me mostly shooting photos and doing PR for the team about races and also covering sponsorship events, but this year I’ve taken on a more hands-on roll helping the coaches get the guys in shape.

The team is ready after a punishing spring camp in the Blue Ridge Mountains where we rode many miles of dirt and climbed thousands of feet and changed a few flats. I’m hopeful for a great season of racing.

The junior racers, coaches and all the support staff from HPC / Bicycle Outfitters would like to thank the guys at Happy Trails for helping us out this season. We will hopefully have some good news to report back by the end of April.

Heading out to tackle 80 miles, 5 mountain crossings and well over 9000 feet of climbing, with a few Kelly pro team riders helping out. March 30, 2013.

Every year the season’s first important race is in Cambridge New York, called the Tour of the Battenkill. It has a reputation as the hardest one-day race in America for road racers. The Tour of the Battenkill is a really cool race; one with real cache, a devout following and it would be safe to say something of a religion in New York. The single element that makes the Tour of the Battenkill known as America’s toughest one-day race is that it runs in the spring (weather) and over a large portion of dirt roads in and around the town of Cambridge, New York. Remember this is a skinny tire road bike race not a fat tire mountain bike race.

Shane Scoggin climbs Blue Mountain during an epic day of riding in high wind, rain, snow and sleet……not to mention crossing the Shenandoah River in driving winds and snow with water almost breaching the low water bridge then add 6000 feet of climbing in 64 miles. March 27, 2013	George “Little G” Schultz on the gas as he climbs Blue Mountain on that same epic day. March 27, 2013.
Coach Susan Hefler gets the boys the sport section at the top of Blue Mountain. They wanted to know baseball scores before descending into the valley! Really it’s for stuffing under the jersey for the 45 to 50 mph descent off the mountain. March 27, 2013.	The team works a pace line after crossing the Shenandoah River. Here they head for home like a herd of horses for the barn. March 27, 2013

The team needed to work on the transitions between dirt and asphalt and also get their climbing legs under them. The main problem of course is that skinny tires on gravel means lots of flats. So I called Happy Trails and asked them about helping me design a wheel rack for the back of the motorcycle so we could carry spares. A motorcycle is perfect for supporting bicycle racing because it’s small and you can get on and get off really fast. It’s easy to park on the side of public roads, you can carry a ton of gear and you can easily talk with the riders as they move along the road.

Two days after talking to the guys in Happy Trails fabrication shop I had plates and a plan of attack for making a solid wheel rack. The Versys was set up with not only a wheel rack but also a quick release wheel rack. I can pop it on and off, and during the week when I’m headed to the train I have my top box also with a quick release plate. The wheel rack has worked great and has about 500 miles on it right now. A lot at cycling pace but also some open road pace at 70 mph with 4 bicycle wheels mounted!

Thanks again to Happy Trails.

A shot of the rack before wheels are mounted	Motos ready to support U-19 riders, March 27, 2013
The moto sits in her room waiting to shepherd the under 19 riders on their spring camp.	Motos ready to support U-19 riders March 27, 2013

HPC coach Susan Hefler gives the boys a little pre- ride talk. March 27, 2013.	Andy Fleming shows impressive climbing skills As coach Susan Hefler looks on. March 30, 2013.
The team was headed out to tackle 80 miles 5 mountain crossings and well over 9000 feet of climbing. Helping out were a few Kelly pro team riders. March 30, 2013.	George “Little G” Schulz works hard on Woodstock Fire Road, the last mountain crossing on a day when the rider climbed over 9000 feet. March 30, 2013.

HPC / Bicycle Outfitters U-19 cycling team along with team coaches and a few parents during a training ride in the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Northern Shenandoah Valley.

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

KLR650 Teton Panniers

I just received my Teton panniers today, and I have to say the pictures on your web site and the descriptions of this product are maybe a little too brief. I had in fact been considering a competitors product, but changed my mind primarily because of a slight price advantage at Happy Trail.

I’m really glad I changed my mind. These boxes are awesome. They are pretty light yet seem quite sturdy at the same time. I also had no idea how the side latches were going to work – they are great and secure the lid against the gasket very well.

Side Cam Latch

The black powder coating is very nice, but… I did not expect the inside of the panniers would be powder coated. So I had been thinking of some way of using adhesive drawer liner on the inside of the panniers to prevent too much oxidized aluminum from getting on any contents. The inside powder coat is a great surprise, and I did not see any product description saying the inside would also have powder coat. Maybe you like to surprise customers … in a good way.

I have not had much time yet today to begin installing the SU racks, but that looks like it will be pretty easy.

In short, delivery was quick, these are excellent materials and great workmanship, and, lastly, a very good price for an item that I expect will outlast me. These panniers exceeded my expectations easily.

Sincerely,

Jim Palmer

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

by Andrew Mentzer

Perhaps the most time consuming, soul crushing and expensive logistic of any RTW motorcycle tour is bike shipping. I can only speak from my own experience—I’m betting there are a few folks out there who have had good experiences—but I have yet to meet anyone who enjoys shipping motorcycles overseas.

For the first phases of my around the world ride, I had to ship my custom built 1988 Kawasaki KLR650 from Boise, Idaho to Sydney, Australia. My father had completed a similar trip in 1977, and upon my return I learned that a lot has changed in the last 35 years when it comes to international freight practices. He told me about the days when you would simply ride up to the port, ask around, and generally within an hour you had found the arrangement you were looking for. This could range from loading the bike in a sleeper cabin and riding along on the boat, to simply leaving the bike at the port and it would be waiting for you on the other end 2 weeks later. The endless import/export red tape and relentless penciling for all sorts of barely legitimate administrative fees didn’t exist in 1977, making the whole process much easier.

Carnet du passages en douane (customs bond)

I had to get a carnet du passages en douane (customs bond) in order to import and export the bike to and from various countries. The carnet usually takes about 2 weeks to secure, and costs a few hundred dollars plus a deposit based on the value of the bike. I ended up getting an “equipment” ATA carnet through my business, which took 2 days and cost about $1,200 in total. When you arrive at a border crossing, you simply have the carnet stamped into one country and out of the other and you can avoid having to pay any duties up front.

Getting the bike to the port at Long Beach was no problem. Using Ebay’s UShip website, I located an independent trucker in Boise who was heading to Los Angeles. 36 hours later the bike was in the hands of Schumacher Cargo. Schumacher had verbally guaranteed me that the bike would be on its way to Sydney by the end of the next week, and would arrive within 30 days of disembarkation. They ended up sending the bike on a transshipment through SE Asia, and it arrived in Brisbane (not Sydney) nearly two months later.

Lesson #1: You get what you pay for. Schumacher is easily the cheapest (my cost was $640) freight forwarder from the west coast, but they make you pay with their lackluster customer service and appalling disregard for time frames.

Collecting the bike in Brisbane, Australia for the start of the trip

After a few days in Sydney, I took a train north to collect the KLR from the port in Brisbane. By then, it had sat in a musty shipping container for the better part of 3 months, which resulted in numerous carburetor and fuel problems.

Following a whirlwind ride across Australia, I ended this leg of my around the world ride in Darwin, Australia—gateway to SE Asia. I left the bike with one of the shop managers at Cyclone Honda for safe keeping, and made arrangements to have the bike shipped from Australia to Singapore upon my return a few months later. Toll Marine Logistics (AKA Perkins) were very helpful and fair in how they handled this shipment across the Java Sea. The bike left and arrived on time, and their staff was very helpful. About $900 later and I was on my way in SE Asia.

There were a few administrative battles in Singapore and Thailand with the carnet, but nothing held me up for more than 4 hours. Crossing into Malaysia was a breeze. When I crossed the border from Alor Setar, Malaysia into Sadao, Thailand, the customs officials appeared to have no clue what to do with the carnet. I attempted to explain that they needed to take an importation sheet from the counterfoil and stamp the “import” box on my carnet, but the futility of trying to navigate the language barrier proved too much. I simply left them with the import sheet and had the official stamp and sign the carnet. They gave me a letter stating in Thai (the lettering looks like spaghetti thrown against the wall) that I would be responsible for 360,000 baht (about $11,000 USD) in customs fees if I were to leave the bike in Thailand. In other words, the bike would have to be exported at the end of this leg of the trip.

SE Asia

Following a mystifying ride across peninsular SE Asia, I found myself at the end of the road. I couldn’t get into Burma or China, so I left the bike with some friends in Bangkok and began working on a plan to have the bike shipped back to the USA before the expiration of the carnet (they are only good for 12 months), which would trigger the enormous customs charge noted earlier.

So here we are today. I first attempted to have the bike exported from Thailand on January 17^th. It took nearly a month just to find a freight forwarder who could get it back to the USA, not to mention nearly $2,000 worth of customs, crating and shipping fees. After nearly 120 infuriating emails trying to decipher the freight forwarder’s broken English, and two months of back and forth, the bike ended up being shipped west—through the Middle East and across the Atlantic—instead of east like I had requested. It is now in New York and the shipping company is attempting to charge me more money before they release it for final shipment via truck back to Seattle.

Lesson #2: Getting a bike shipped from Thailand to the USA is a doozy. Hopefully the bike will arrive in Seattle in the next 2-3 weeks…

Next up is a ride back across the USA before heading off to Europe for a barn burner transcontinental ride across Europe, the Stans, and Russia. Keep an eye out for future posts on my father’s ride from 1977-8.

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

By Nevil Stow

This is Part Two of my trip to Happy Trails in Boise, from Alberta, Canada
Read Part One

After a few miles, we pulled up outside the Happy Trails building and were asked to take both bikes to the side door, as the mechanics were expecting me. I was introduced to Heath Hiatt, who would work on my bike, and Kurt Simpson, who had arranged for my sponsorship package with approval from Tim Bernard, owner of Happy Trail. They made me feel like a Rock Star. The generosity and kindness that this wonderful company displayed was unending. Heath got to work quickly on Twiggy and before I knew it, she was sporting a brand new SU rack … and Tim was chuckling over my homemade pedestrian sign rack that was propped up in the corner.

Click any photo for a larger image

Jim Smith chatting with Heath Hiatt about … everything :)

They even got Jim working

It wasn’t long before I got to meet up with Tiffany Coates, fellow countrywoman and Guinness Book world record holder as the most traveled woman on the planet by motorcycle as a solo rider. We had first met in Canada a couple of years earlier when her bike Thelma had a few problems and we attended the Horizons Unlimited meeting in Nakusp. She was to be the guest speaker for the night at Happy Trails and I was looking forward to hearing her talk. I was also doing a brief talk on my fundraising trip around the world in 2013 for the Heart & Stroke Foundation.

Twiggy sports a new SU rack in the presence of Thelma, one of the most travelled BMW’s on the planet :)

I’m from Devon in the UK and Tiffany is from Cornwall. The rivalry between the two counties spilled over into Boise for a day. Here’s Tiff putting a Cornish Sticker on Twiggy. I’ll get you back Lady :)

Twiggy was complete by the end of the day and attention turned to Jim’s bike to see if there were any goodies that could be installed while we were there.

Jim and I were all set to go find a motel, shower up and come back that evening for Tiffany’s talk but Tim suggested we stay at his friend Ken’s house. The kindness and generosity was endless from all concerned and at this point in the story I must say a huge “THANK YOU” to Ken Hunter. You are truly an amazing and kindhearted man opening up your house to two complete strangers for the night. I look forward to reciprocating as soon as possible.

Tim and Tiffany discuss two-wheeled antics

Ken explains what he’s done to his DRZ400 and I just marvel at his work!

Tiffany’s talk was great and the evening was a great chance to meet some of the local riders and characters like Sam (Idaho Sam) Stone. I wished the evening had never ended, but it had to and our thoughts would turn to the journey home, Jim with some new parts and me with a whole new Teton Luggage system and SU side racks. I felt like one of the kids in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

After saying our goodbyes the next day we headed north back into the storm. Our route home would be slightly different by way of riding Hwy 12, the Lolo Creek road and on to Missoula.

Our two bikes all fettled up and ready for the ride home

The 99 miles of twisty road made up for the fact that it rained incessantly here. But my feet were soaked and my hands so wet that I couldn’t put my gloves back on too easily. I’d had enough. At a stop light in Missoula I shouted over to Jim, “We’ve gotta find a motorcycle shop here, I need new boots and gloves!”

It didn’t take us long to find one and I squelched my way into the shop to start looking at boots.

The conversation went something like this.

Pretty girl: “Can I help you in any way?”

Me: “Yes, I’m looking for some waterproof riding boots and gloves.”

Pretty girl: “Hmm, we have these gloves and these boots, Sir.”

Me: “Are they waterproof? Because I will find out in about a half hour. If they leak I’m coming back and you’re gonna listen to my woeful story – about having numb hands and feet for four days – and I’m going to break down in front of you and embarrass you in front of the whole shop.”

Pretty girl: “Yes Sir, SIDI guarantee them waterproof.”

Me: “Do you give discounts for Canadians?”

Pretty girl: ”No.”

Me: “I thought I’d ask, but at this point I would sell my right kidney for dry feet. I’ll take them.”

It didn’t rain for the rest of the trip home.

In short, we rode a lot of wet weather but after Happy Trails installed my new luggage, nothing got wet.

My North Face duffel remains on the shelf in my garage, the grip heaters on Twiggy are fixed and I am only weeks away from flying to the UK to start my Round-The-World trip.

If you’re contemplating buying Happy Trails stuff, take it from me, this product is GOOD. Better still, go pay those guys a visit and say Hi. They all ride bikes and love meeting fellow riders. That’s why they organize/participate in so many events throughout the year.

From my standpoint, I need to sign off now because I still have a bunch of preparation for my trip starting in 4 weeks. I guess the next blog will be from the road … somewhere in Europe :)

Kindest regards to you all,

Nevil

Stroke survivor (2009)
www.rtw2013.com

P.S. If you can, please find the time to donate to the Heart and Stroke Foundation. They put me back together in 2009.

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

by Nevil Stow

June 2012 was wet. In early June the whole of the Northwestern US and Western Canada were under a storm system that the weather guys were calling “the worst in ten years.” Jim and I were riding in it and believe me, it was character building.

June 5 was the date we set out from Canmore, Alberta, Canada and we rode into the storm about an hour from the U.S. border. Jim was riding a 2008 KLR650 that was fully equipped with Happy Trails panniers, engine guards and nerf bars. I was riding Twiggy, a 2004 DR650 that I had rebuilt only a few weeks earlier and this 800 mile ride was to be a good test to see if my piston rebuild and electrical work would be up to scratch. That evening we laid in our beds in a motel in Yahk, B.C. listening to the rain pounding on the roof. I assured myself that this storm would be short lived and tomorrow would be a clear day. Hopefully we would be able to make Boise before nightfall.

The next morning I awoke … to the sound of the rain beating against our window. How wrong was I last night? I gathered up all my gear, spread all over the motel room in a vain attempt to dry it, amid the occasional curse word as I found that some stuff was still wet. My only luggage bag was a North Face duffel bag that I had strapped on a homemade rack on the back of Twiggy, and it leaked badly. The homemade rack was in fact made from a Pedestrian Crossing sign I had appropriated a few days before and hose clamped to the two grab bars on the bike. Tim Bernard was going to get a kick out of this rig when he saw it … for sure :)

Click any photo for a larger image

My homemade pedestrian sign rack/plate thingy

No really, it was a pedestrian crossing sign :)

We pressed on south and over the border into what seemed like endless rain and cold. The droplets of water hammered hard onto my visor and I thanked the good Lord that I had a wiper on the left thumb of my glove. Jim was leading the way and I could hardly see his tail light on most occasions. Jim is a good and consistent rider with a wealth of experience and I hated him for having heated gloves and a heated jacket. I had never been so cold and wet in my life, and I am originally from England! Shivering as I was, I soon lost all feeling in my hands; I guess my installation of the heated grips needed revision as soon as possible. We had made plans to stop in Bonners Ferry for breakfast and so I let out a sigh of relief as Jim peeled off the ramp into town. We were soon sitting in the warm, dry café and Jim humored me as I bitched about the cold/wet/misery that I was going through. Jim always has a smile and an upbeat personality, even in times of distress, and I needed to learn a few lessons from him on this subject. As I shifted in my seat I felt the water slosh around in my Tech 3 boots. These were going to get replaced in a few days, I mused.

Onward south we passed through Sandpoint, crossing the river bridge, and seeing the rain belting me from a sideways angle made me curse under the helmet and wish it gone. More miles further south we passed through Coeur D’Alene, drenched, and onward to Lewiston.

Lewiston, dry Lewiston!

The Old Spiral Highway was begging us to come visit

Lewiston was a reverse oasis, because, it wasn’t wet! We sat up high on the ridge and looked down on the DRY town and this feeling of elation came over me. Then we started drooling, for below us was a winding, snaking dry road that was about to make our day. The old spiral road into Lewiston. This happenstance was the reason we ride bikes. We were grinning like a couple of naughty schoolkids by the time we got to the bottom, and better still, my hands had come back to life too. Now I was crying in pain as my nerves reminded me of the stupidity of not buying heated gear for this trip.

The ride south to New Meadows was dry (ish) and uneventful and we pulled into a guest house for the night, only to reflect upon the day’s weather and my jealousy of Jim’s warm gear. As he unpacked his panniers I noticed that nothing in there had gotten wet. Happy Trails luggage had just been put to the test and had passed with flying colours. I spread all my gear around the room and tipped the water out of my duffel bag in the sink. At least I had managed to find a garbage bag or two to keep my clothes dry for the day.

June 7^th was punctuated by … you guessed it … rain, but we noticed how much warmer the climate was getting and how much drier too. The ride south to Boise was just getting better and better as we entered the valleys of the Payette River. This is gorgeous country and I promised myself that one day I will return for a longer visit.

Boise popped up in no time and we stopped on the outskirts of town to check the city map and write down a few directions that we could follow to the Happy Trails outlet and workshop. I was so intent on making it there in good time that one of my fellow road-users greeted me with a single fingered salute as I merged with the traffic. I was warm and dry now and no one could upset me at this point.

Read Part Two: The amazing Happy Trails experience, my friend and countrywoman Tiffany Coates and the ride home to Alberta.

Kindest regards to you all,

Nevil

Stroke survivor (2009)
www.rtw2013.com

P.S. If you can, please find the time to donate to the Heart and Stroke Foundation. They put me back together in 2009.

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

by Andrew Mentzer

What makes the perfect dual sport? Is it better to rely on technology and performance or durability and simplicity? What bike would you choose if you were riding around the world tomorrow?

These questions have plagued adventure riders for decades, and absent the introduction of anything too dramatic from the world’s biggest motorcycle manufacturers, it will continue to plague us for the foreseeable future. While the one bike quiver appears to be coming ever closer each year—compliments of recent additions like the BMW 800GS and a slough of performance oriented KTM single cylinder bikes—there still isn’t a clear winner that can truly do it all.

I recently returned from the first two phases of what will ultimately be an around-the-world ride that retraces a similar route my father completed in 1977 on a Honda XL250. I began my journey in Southeast Australia and have made it as far as Bangkok, Thailand, thus far. When choosing the right bike, I had to weigh countless elements: weight, fuel capacity, dirt-worthiness, top end, reliability, availability of parts and ease of maintenance—among others. After several thoughtful rounds of ‘what-if’ and an extended Q&A with the guys at Happy Trails Products I landed on the ever-capable Kawasaki KLR 650. There were other suitable options, but having already owned 3 of these bike previously, I decided to go with what I know.

Click any photo for a larger image

Collecting the bike in Brisbane, Australia on May 24 after 5 days of planes, trains and automobiles

As most of you are probably aware, the KLR does almost nothing exceptionally well, but everything alright. It is perhaps the most vanilla of the 650-class dual sports, boasting a deadly simple design that has changed very little over the last 20+ years. It is widely manufactured/distributed and parts are consequently available world-wide. For just over $7k, you can get a basic set-up that will adequately address your need for adventure, with aftermarket customizability options galore.

The pros of the bike are its incredible versatility—it’s able to tackle literally any riding conditions you can throw at it—and foolproof ease of maintenance. Its cons are just as apparent—with a limited top end, single cylinder configuration, and obviously simple stock suspension.

So how did this jack-of-all-trades perform in a real world long haul adventure riding scenario?

Just fine, although in all fairness, there were a handful of noteworthy issues, some of which I brought upon myself:

One

The petcock assembly

The bike was left to sit in a shipping container for roughly 2 months longer than it was ever intended, resulting in several initial carburetion issues on the front end of the trip. Following a sputtering start from the port in Brisbane, the bike made it less than 150 miles before I torched a vacuum seal in the petcock. This was partly because I had the wrong jetting for a sea level ride, and partly due to poor fuel quality. Good gas can be found typically at Shell or BP stations as a 95 octane non-ethanol blend. In SE Asia, this is referred to as gasohol. If you go with Caltex or any other generic brand of fuel, it is likely distributed by one of the big box supermarket retailers, and is generally of lower quality. It took about 3 hours to locate, diagnose and fix the problem, after which I was promptly back on my way without issue. Had I been on a BMW GS or KTM, I probably would not have had any fuel issues in the first place, however I would likely have been delayed several days.

All Cycles and Kart in Gimpie. Wayne Mackaway dropped what he  was doing to help me pull the bike apart and diagnose the problem

Two

As previously noted the stock jetting on the KLR was not ideal for my sea level ride across Australia. I elected to have the carb completely rebuilt and rejetted at Trinity Kawasaki in Cairns, before heading out into more unforgiving territory—the Outback. This turned out to be a wise decision, as the bike ran beautifully from the Savannah Way all the way through to Tenant Creek, and into the heart of the Northern Territory.

Riding solo across the outback

Gilligan’s Hostel in Cairns, a massive 700 bed facility bustling with travelers from every corner of the globe

Savannah Way

Three

Following a 7 month stint back in the states, I shipped the KLR from Darwin, Australia to Singapore for leg #2 of my ride. This go-round, the issues appeared to be with the bike’s charging system. What I thought was a dead battery turned into a torched stator. Lesson learned: never push start a bike that won’t turn over and has been sitting in a dank storage container for more than half a year. Turns out, push starting the bike can put an excessive load on the stator and regulator/rectifier because it will not get enough juice to charge. This was entirely my own fault, but the repair was (again) fairly quick, affordable and straightforward.

The KLR turned out to be an excellent fit for this type of trip because—despite a few minor issues—it was cheap and easy to fix, and it performed brilliantly on two-lane tarmac and dirt roads alike when I got it settled into its groove. Had I elected to endeavor on a more complicated bike, I doubt I would have had the luck I did with maintenance and repairs.

Atop the tallest peak in Queensland

A nice day at Airlie Beach, Queensland

The pros of the single cylinder 650’s (i.e. KLR, DRZ, etc.):

• Parts are cheap, generic and widely available.
• Fuel efficiency is typically in the 45-55mpg realm.
• Customs bonds and insurance tend to be very affordable.
• Inconspicuous and low profile presence.
• Very capable off-road.
• Extremely simple to repair and maintain.

The pros of the 1000cc multi cylinder dual sport touring bikes (i.e. BMW GS, KTM 990/1190):

• Bombproof durability.
• Typically very comfortable.
• Endless powerband.
• Longer maintenance interval.

The cons of the single cylinder 650’s (i.e. KLR, DRZ, etc.):

• Most stock equipment is of mediocre quality (suspension, seat, etc.)
• Shorter maintenance interval, especially if running highway speeds.
• Functionally tops out at 75mph.
• Requires more preventative powertrain maintenance at over 12,000 miles.

The cons of the 1000cc multi cylinder dual sport touring bikes (i.e. BMW GS, KTM 990/1190):

• Attracts much more unwanted attention in developing and undeveloped countries.
• Expensive to ship, import/export.
• If it breaks down, plan on spending at least 1 week getting it fixed.
• Expensive to maintain/repair.

Next up, the tour shifts directions, heading back across North America before pushing off in Europe—gateway to a massive, 8,500 mile transcontinental haul through Central Asia.

Keep an eye out on Trail Dust for future posts about bike shipping nightmares and success stories, riding misadventures, and my father’s trip from 1977-78.

Croydon, with Dennis Wheeler and Steve Humphries, a pair of dual sport riders	Trying to get dry with Dennis and Steve at Atherton Tablands
You have to order in advance to guarantee a spot at the table for the legendary Daly Waters Beef & Barra	Darwin, the last stop on the first leg of this trip

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com

by Nevil Stowe

I went AWOL from blogging while building a garage/extension onto my house (I bit off more than I could chew :) )  Now I am done with that project and my thoughts roll into 2013 … the year I ride a motorcycle around the world!

November 19, 2011 was the day I bought Twiggy from a guy in Calgary, Alberta. That was also the day Twiggy got named, due to the fact she was a lot skinnier than my 1200GSA.	January 7, 2012 was warm enough to take Twiggy out for a test ride.
March, 2012 saw the serious work begin. I installed a forged piston, Kevlar clutch, new camchain & tensioners and a whole bunch of parts for the trip. I wonder what will break down first in Mongolia? Me or the bike? :)	Testing the gear out as often as possible in Kananaskis Country, Canadian Rockies.

What’s been happening since my last entry into Trail Dust?

The biggest development was the growth of our trip. It started with just me and my brother and grew through the summer to five people. Just before Christmas an unexpected development led to the team splitting up. Now it’ll be me and one other fellow, Ulf Mueller from Switzerland, on the ride.

We have recently built our new website and have begun updating it. There is a section on each of our bikes too, and what we have done so far to prepare them for the trip, a map of our approximate route and links to the charities we support/raise funds for.

We are in the middle of all the boring, tedious stuff like visa applications for Kazakhstan, Russia and Mongolia as well as the travel insurance, green card insurance for Europe … and inoculations. In fact I got my first RABIES jab last week (maybe I should go home and bite my dog ;) After a year of Encephalitis, polio, diphtheria and other sundry maledictions, I am now coming close to being complete. By the time I have all my jabs up to date it will have cost me around $2500. So anyone out there thinking of traveling, please consider this necessary commitment well in advance!

More gear testing in Kananaskis Country, Alberta. We were trying shake stuff loose off the bikes by finding the roughest roads. Nothing fell off though. Road of Bones here we come.	Trying out the new Happy Trail soft Luggage in the heart of the Canadian Rockies. This was at mile 300 approximately.
“Mutt Face” is an accepted drawback on dusty trails. LOL	After 300 miles of dirt in southern Alberta and British Columbia, everything is still there!

Twiggy, my not-so-thin DR650, performed well in the summer and fall of 2012. Since I rebuilt the engine in April last year and then rode from Canada down to Boise to meet up at Happy Trail, I have added some 5000 miles on it … about 2500 on the dirt.

Twiggy performed well with the new Happy Trail aluminum panniers and SU rack and even got into a crash that totally bent the highway pegs in on the left side. A quick call in to Happy Trail saw me order a new set of pegs and they were at my doorstep in about a week. Impressive service guys, you are the leaders in your field for sure!  Now I know that the new forged piston, cam chain, tensioners, Kevlar clutch, generator, upgraded suspension, fuel tank and Happy Trail luggage system can be thrown around in the dirt and generally punished in the process.

Morning Sunrise near Whiteswan, British Columbia …it was just below freezing. Brrrr!

The dust got everywhere, except inside the soft luggage :)

Twiggy is RTW ready …  am I? I think so. I will be starting a fitness regime soon that will see me lose the holiday weight and improve my cardiovascular although I don’t want to go overboard for fear of injuring myself before the trip. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it ;)

My departure date is either April 27^th or May 1^st from Calgary to London Gatwick. At the time of writing this I am waiting to hear if there are any customs agents open on Sunday the 28^th to process the entry of a rather chubby DR650. If not, I shall go with a May 1 departure. I chose to use MotorcycleExpress.com as the shipping agent. They were recommended to me by a friend and claim to be able to fly me and Twiggy together on the same aircraft. So far so good.

A typical camp scene, late September in the heart of the Rockies. Frost on the windshield … winter’s coming :(

The approximate route I will take across Russia. I will meet Ulf, my traveling partner, in Wadenswil Switzerland en-route.

Once we arrive in North America, this is our intended route. There will probably be a deviation further south to come visit Happy Trail in Boise, Idaho to show pictures and tell tales!

Last June I came down to meet Tim and the Happy Trail team for a few days of fun at the store in Boise. I’ll tell you about that next time.

Talk to you soon,

Nevil

Trail Dust is a publication of happy-trail.com