Motorcycle Camping Across America

The Gear

Top 4

1. Sena Bluetooth Headset – Being able to be in contact with my riding partner whether it was stopping for gas, getting lost in downtown Memphis or joking about the absurdities of the road made this headset all but priceless. Also the ability to stream music via the Bluetooth made the winding roads fun and the long straight roads bearable. Nothing but good things to say about these. Easy to use controls and extremely durable, handling many a rainy days on the road with no issues.
2. Rok Straps – For what amounts to a glorified bungee cord, these things straight up rocked. Having a quick and easy in and out system for my camping backpack made setting up in the evenings and packing up in the mornings a breeze.
3. Sony A6000 – Before heading on this trip I was debating whether or not to get a camera or simply rely on my iPhone for pictures, and ultimately decided to splurge and purchase the a6000 after some lengthy research, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier with a purchase. I’m now a photographer thanks to this camera. I never practiced photography before embarking on this trip and in the few months I’ve owned this camera my pictures have improved greatly. While it shoots incredible pictures in auto mode, manual is where it shows its true potential. From landscapes, to starscapes and everything in-between it handles wonderfully. It is the perfect travel camera due to its small size, relatively low cost, and ability to swap out high quality lenses. This thing took a beating on the trip and held up. Would highly recommend to any traveler wanting to take solid pictures to look back on for years to come.
4. Scarpa Hiking Boot – Solid boot that handled motorcycle riding and backpacking equally well. They kept my feet dry and secure through the whole trip. My buddy had a pair of combat boots that soaked easily in every rainstorm and the comfort of having dry feet is something you don’t fully appreciate until it is gone.

Riding

Jesse Luggage Side Cases

Kelty Redwing 50L Backpack

Trip Report

52 days, 12,000 miles, 26 states, two motorcycles, and 1 unforgettable summer. For those looking for a quick summary and to get back to their Netflix programming, that about sums this little ditty up, but for those looking to dive deeper, I’m more than happy to share.

The story of this trip starts in April of 2015, as I was finishing up my Senior year at the University of Vermont. I’d just about made it through 4 years of engineering schooling and had a job at a manufacturing firm where I had been interning for the past 6 months. But, I wasn’t sold on the whole 9-5, work till I’m 50, retire, then have time to travel thing. I loved my engineering schooling and its endless applications, but the thought of being inside, at a desk or not, for most of my waking hours in my early 20’s didn’t seem to be my calling. I needed more, I needed to see for myself what else was out there. That’s what drove me to go on this trip; that fear of ‘growing up’ and taking the safe path. So, I made the decision to head out in the unknown, and it in the immortal words of Robert Frost, “that has made all the difference”.  I debated including this next poem fragment that I’m sure you’ve all heard at least once before, but maybe rereading it might convince someone to do the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Still not a day goes by that I don’t stop and smile at the complexity of life, and they way each of us chooses to navigate it. Each of us with our own set of rules, values, beliefs and judgements; Working towards different goals and walking along different paths. For me, I’ve found that it is an endeavor far too important to be taken with too much caution, because time is the most precious resource we have. This outlook tends, more often than not, to lead to new adventures, a few bumps and bruises, and a whole lot of fun. Now back to the trip.

This motorcycle camping adventure began as great ones often do, with little experience, limited planning and no schedule. This coupled with the rainy forecast for the first few days of the trip, were the perfect recipes for a running start. I’d gotten my motorcycle license 4 weeks earlier, the timeline for our trip was incomplete, and the rainy weather wasn’t ideal, but that morning, none of it seemed to matter. I made my last minute checks of tire pressures and oil level, did a quick inventory of my gear, hugged my family goodbye and was off. At this point I’d possessed my motorcycle license for less than a month, and now had my bike pointed toward California. I couldn’t help but wonder, “what the hell am I thinking”, a thought that produced a smile and small laugh, as big thoughts often do. I was so unsure of everything I was doing and couldn’t have been happier. Here I was, with no agenda, no plan, just the simple human inclination to explore. I wanted to see it all…I guess I always have.

Luckily, these first few miles were the only ones I would be traveling alone, for just a couple minutes down the road I met up with my traveling companion, Max. Max was the one who had slowly but surely convinced me to join him on this trip, as if I should have needed convincing in the first place. He had been my best friend through four years of college and now would be my traveling companion across 12,000 miles of open road. He was the photographer and motorcycle enthusiast who had dreamed up the trip, while I was the friend who was always up for a new adventure, and tagged along.

The trip started off as a game of cat and mouse on the Jersey highways, evading trucks and the nervous insecurities of the first day of an adventure. But about 5 hours, two gas stops and some parking lot pizza later we arrived at the first “choice” road of the trip, Skyline Drive. Skyline Drive is a manicured road, that twists and turns through Shenandoah National Park, with one way in and one way out. As I opened up the throttle, the KLR’s engine burred and began meandering through the road’s looping turns. My heart raced and for the first time I truly understood a motorcycles appeal. These snaking turns with unseen exits and lofting views were where a motorcycle was meant to be ridden. I then proceeded to chop through these perfect turns with no style or rhythm, that would come later. For now, I was a student and the bike was my teacher, slowly instructing me on how real riding was meant to be done.

Day 1 came to a close at a national park campground about halfway down Skyline Drive, where I gorged on a gourmet meal of chicken fingers and french fries, my go to spread since my Happy Meal days. It was at this banquet where we met the first of many travelers who would help set the tone for the trip, Walt and Sheldon.

This interaction began as we plopped down on a picnic table to enjoy our greasy meals and watched two men pull up on motorcycles. At this point I hadn’t fully understood the connection between travelers, especially those on motorcycles. Had this been a month later, I may have seen their packed side cases, far away license plates, and 5 day shadow, and made the first move toward conversation. But I was still a timid traveler feeling I had nothing to share, and I let them walk by. They made their way to the front door of the general store only to realize it had just been closed minutes earlier. Initially disappointed, they quickly changed pace and took up a conversation with the teenage employee of the recently closed shop with a goal of securing two blackberry ice cream cones. They didn’t demand or even really care if they got the ice cream, and took a genuine approach of two weary travelers who simply wanted some creamy goodness. And with that, the employee unlocked the door, disappeared inside, and emerged minutes later with two cones and a smile on her face. Then, ice creams in hand, these two began to walk towards us.

There was Walt, a small wiry man with a smile that stuck with me for long after his face was gone, and Sheldon a larger man, nearly double the size of Walt, but with a quieter nature. They noticed the helmets stationed by our sides and began a conversation with us about our bikes and asked us where we were heading. We outlined our planned route, and proceeded to talk about bikes, life, family and ice cream. And during the course of this conversation, we were shocked to discover that we were reliving a trip these two had take 38 years earlier. From the route, to our age, up through the general timeline, it was almost identical. They told us stories of their trip consisting of one day of rain (a number we would overtake in just two days time), mosquito infested nights sleeping in construction equipment, a few close calls, and an unforgettable experience. They laughed saying, “all your friends will be sick of the story of the trip. We did it 38 years ago and still talk about it like it happened yesterday”. Just as certain events are destined to happen, with no real explanation, these first two travelers we met on our journey were exactly the right ones. And with that, our fates were set, their trip had gone without incident, and thus so would ours. And after a brief email exchange, we departed, feeling a little more confident and excited about the road ahead, and once again we were back down to two.

As the trip progressed we would meet many more awesome people. Day 2 brought Eleina, an Italian biker chick with a true taste for adventure and a personal desire to help others who shared her vision. She gave us information on where to travel, what to see, and who to talk to. Day 17 gave us the purveyor of the general store at Kodachrome State Park. He treated us to free breakfast and joked about the phallic rock formations of the park, dubbing it Penile Point. Following the trip Max mocked up a postcard of the site and mailed 30 of them to the store. Day 31 brought Doug Sergent, a hitchhiking traveler who has been heading coast to coast looking for answers on the road for the past 5 years following the suicide of a close friend. We sat on the front stoop of a a gas station in Prospect, Oregon listening to his stories for close to an hour. He’s got a YouTube channel here, and is one of the nicest most genuine people I’ve had the opportunity to meet. Day 47 gave us Brock, the rock climbing Israeli who was kind enough to share his campsite at the KOA in rainy South Dakota when my bike chain snapped, stranding us for a day. These are just a few of the hundreds of people we had small conversations with about life, travel, food, the weather of whatever else happen to be on their minds.

After that first night in our tents (our homes for the next two months), day 2 was upon us. Skyline Drive came to an end and we proceeded onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, a 469 mile bikers paradise that winds across the tops of the Blue Ridge Mountains. From there we proceeded south until reaching a friends house in North Carolina where we spent the 4th of July, with fireworks, BBQ, beer and drunken volleyball at Saeeds. We stayed an extra day to regroup and skip some rain, but as soon as we had arrived, we were off again, this time heading west for the first time in the journey. We zoomed west through Asheville, Nashville, Memphis, Hot Springs, Norman, Amarillo, and into New Mexico. Eating savory southern grub that I still have dreams about. Off to the right is the “Hogman”, creator of the greatest pulled pork I’ve had the opportunity to eat.