I Just Thought Everybody Was Going Slow

New Orleans, LA to Homochitto
National Forest, MS and back

We rode up to Homochitto National Forest over the Memorial Day weekend for a few days of camping, fishing, and riding. During the hour-and-a-half or so of the ride up, Jess was doing 90-95 mph and passing very single vehicle on the interstate. It turns out her speedometer was broken and she thought she was barely pushing 75 mph.

'Wasn't your 650 rumbling quite a bit at that speed?' the service manager at the BMW dealer asked us the following week when we took her bike in to be looked at.

'She actually smooths out at around 80 mph or so,' Jess replied.

From then on, the service manager has granted us the label of "hard core".

Near St Francisville we visited the Audubon State Historic Site for a bit of deep south history and culture. Then we reached Homochitto and set up our campsite. Some overnight rain didn't deter us and the next day Jess caught a couple small ones and Greg had some fun riding fire roads and trying out camera angles with the GoPro.

The next day we visited an eerily quiet downtown Natchez, MS, and then we were met with more rain on the way back to NOLA.

Hope you enjoy the video!

And Then It Will Most Likely Turn to Shit

New Orleans, LA
to Durant, MS and Back

How did Greg and Keith spend this past Mardi Gras? We left our ladies (with their consent, of course) to enjoy the parades and we tackled the Mississippi Hill Country Loop for a few days of back country roads, gravel, dirt, and - yes, of course - plenty, plenty of mud.

We started out with clear skies, intact fork seals, and pristine riding gear. But we were soon reminded that it was still winter. What came next was the result of rain, mud, and past-time-to-replace dual sport tires... It was certainly enough that the moto gods cracked an eyelid or two during their winter slumber and had themselves a proper giggle!

Have a watch and if you like (or not), leave us a comment.

Yard Sale with My Gear

Bonnet Carre Spillway
Norco, Louisiana

Greg and Keith spend the afternoon at Bonnet Carre Spillway on dirt roads. It was mud, light puddles, and powdery stuff but all quite manageable. So, all is going well (and mostly clean) until we (actually it was Keith's idea) decide to tackle a short stretch of muddy bogs on the ATV/motocross trails. Tough stuff on heavier bikes but all in good fun.

Remember, for those who receive this as an email, you have to go to the website (www.roughontheroad.com) to view the video.

The Mud Pit that Got Us

Bonnet Carre Spillway
Norco, Louisiana

Greg makes a GS-rider friend, Keith. Here's a few of the less-pretty moments of us off-roading after a day of rains. Filmed just with our iPhones so stick around for when we get our GoPros up and running...

The Right and Only Course

Our epic motorcycle trip ended in April.

View from our apartment in Santiago

We talked about staying on in Santiago. I would find a job and Jess would take Spanish classes until she acquired the language. She hesitated at first but the idea grew on her until she became enthusiastic about the new challenge.

I put myself to scouring the local employment websites and contacting headhunters. At the same time, we began reading everything we could about the rules and regulations governing immigration and vehicle importation. What we discovered is that Chile instituted a law in 2012 that bans the importation of used motorcycles. This probably because, like us, many travelers finish their trip in the far south and some, unlike us, want to sell their bikes on the local market instead of shipping them home. New, our girls would cost almost double what we had paid for them less than a year before and, although they now had 30k+ kilometers on them, they would still likely fetch us what we had originally paid for them.

The girls wrapped and packed for shipping

After a lot of researching and a visit to the customs authority, we determined that there was no safe and feasible way around it. We could stay but the girls would have to go.

‘The decision’s up to you,’ Jess said. ‘I know you want to stay but I’m afraid you’ll be miserable without your motorbike.’

‘I think so too,’ I said and I remembered how I had left my last bike behind when my first big trip ended. It had been very hard to go cold turkey and I hadn’t been near so obsessed with motorcycling then.

I agonized over the decision for most of the night until the right and only course gradually emerged.

A small ceremony
in the hills above Santa Barbara

We shipped the girls home in a container along side a weathered up old Yamaha motorbike and an ancient VW van. We followed a few days later and before we knew it we were back in Los Angeles where we had started some eight months before.

Suddenly we were back and broke and without motorbikes (for a month anyway while they inched their way north on a freighter). There was a job to find, a wedding to plan, and immigration issues to sort so that my lovely Canadian bride could stay on legally in the country. It was no easy transition after such a long trip and moving back to America after several years living overseas. Both topics for another time.

Furnishing and outfitting a new life
one motorbike trip at a time

Suffice it to say we got married, we applied for Jess’s residency, and I was contacted by a former boss who had an exciting new opportunity. So, we loaded the girls once more, boxed and shipped what we could not carry, and rode from Los Angeles to New Orleans in the blazing swelter of mid-August. It was a mere jaunt compared to the recently completed transcontinental journey, but our butts were plenty sore those first few days back in the saddle.

Then, suddenly, we had arrived. We were in New Orleans – starting a job, looking for an apartment, and learning to live in the developed world once again.

Oh yeah, and we had had our motorbikes…