We’ll visit some sites from tour and guidebooks, mostly we’ll be breath slowing across landscapes to find less insistent beauty, the beauty in the ordinary things in their ordinary state.
Rolling waves and roads coastline, we’ll see the ocean overflowing any sensible sensory scale and will get blown sideways across the yellow line on Cadillac Mountain.
I don’t care about the equipment, I just want it to be perfect.
For a month long bikepacking trip in Sweden and Norway in June/July I rode my main expedition wheel, a modified 2010 Surly Pugsley.
The 3rd edition of the excellent Adventure Cycle-Touring Handbook has just been released. Neil and Harriet Pike have substantially updated Stephen Lord’s earlier editions, and the result is an indispensable guide to rough conditions bicycle touring […]
In Greece I toured on my Bike Friday Pocket Rocket Pro.
Antigua, Guatemala—Brian, who hails from Iowa and has lived here for a few years, runs an impressive little shop right near the parque central.
Photo by M. Coady No place else fills me with the same sense of vital creative focused energy, the tolerance and realization of difference, the excitement in the density of humanity, soaring history and iconography, […]
A quick note to a friend going on her first cycle tour describing the theory behind minimal-ish kit: Obviously, your shorts, short sleeve top, socks, (x2) +shoes riding combo are your base outfits during the […]
Roll off the trail into a small town to resupply for, suppose, two full days and a half until the next one. So, three lunches, three breakfasts, two dinners, and trail snacks. Shopping List Instant […]
Two in two suitcases, one by design the other not but can, a welcome evolutionary spandrel. Mountain bikes for a revised plan, one that involves airlines, buses for some big spans between altitudes, deserts, jungles, coffee plantations hillsides. Tracks, trails, […]
This is the gear that I had at the end of traveling in South America.
Villa O’Higgins, a proudly end of the road town, angled cooked dirt streets desert thorny plants growing along paths linking the tiendas, the horsetack shop, a panaderia, a smart looking new community activity center. Curious, on surface empty but folks hiding from heat or the appearance of bustle, the border beyond and across no mans lakes and glaciated cragtops witness to the imaginary boundary between Chile and Argentina. I book passage on the two ferries for the next day, return to the hostal with cyclistas and mountaineers loitering against the boat schedule, each eyeing the other friendly cautiously suspiciously across the sport divide, climbers not nearly as cool as they hope and cyclists far dorkier than they realize. Swiss friends roll up in the afternoon, we drink tea and beer alternately, talk about nexts or who we are returning to and when.