Choose your (Around the World) Weapon

You’ve made the decision to cut the cord for a year and are ready to circumnavigate the globe at ground level. You’re handed the keys to two vehicles: A kitted out Unimog RV offering all of the comforts of home and a well broken-in, purpose-hardened BMW GS. What do you do?

The debate amongst overland adventurers as to the vehicle best suited to the task of crunching kilometres across every conceivable terrain has raged for years. The chosen tool for the task has cut across the vehicular spectrum ranging from the sublime to the absurd. A Tuk-Tuk, a bicycle, a Suzuki Hayabusa, a London Taxi, a Vespa scooter and a cracked out minvan, to name but a few, have survived to tell the tale.

No judgment can be passed on any of them because each has carved out its own little niche of utility and character. But I think the essence of the debate really comes down to a simple question: two wheels or four? Well, let me count the ways of how the debate leads to a simple result. The answer is two.

 

1. It’s (relatively) portable – I was on my 3^rd straight day at Istanbul airport being led through the catacombs of the dark, dank cargo building by my paid fixer as we worked desperately to get my Triumph Tiger I’d ridden from Los Angeles onto a plane to Kuala Lumpur. When the final bribe had been paid and the last document stamped, all that remained was to get it into the ramp-less building. The diabolical solution was a long, 2” x 10” plank spanning from street level up 1.5 meters to the loading dock. Naturally, riding the 450lb bike up a narrow, flimsy stick of wood was quite terrifying but the angry cargo workers told me to do it or the bike stays in Istanbul. Trousers soiled, the bike was up the ramp and loaded into a container for the Turkish Airlines flight. Try that with a car.
   

   Uncrating the GS at Kathmandu Airport

2. It’s cheap (or can be) – Sure, you can spend USD30k on a kitted out BMW R1250 Adventure and you can spend $500 on an old VW microbus. But odds are the bike you choose will be cheaper to buy, maintain, import, export and fill with fuel. A better return on your adventure investment 9 times out of 10.
3. It’s quite easy to fix – Again here, depending on the machine you select, the difficulty of repair can be comparable. But even with a bike and a car from a similar technological era, the bike wins here simply because there are fewer things to break. Fewer wheel bearings, simpler drive train, fewer suspension components, simpler cooling & lubrication system and two fewer tires to puncture.
   

   Servicing in Shiraz, Iran

4. It provides the exhilaration of risk – There’s no way to mask the reality that motorcyclists are cut from a different cloth. One of the reasons we gravitate toward bikes is the lack of protection and exposure to the elements. The risk of dying is part of what makes us feel alive.
   

   Riding my Bullet in the Thar Desert

5. It connects you with your environment – One of my saddest experiences riding a motorcycle in India was while cruising through the stunning scenery in the Thar Desert on a searingly heat hot day. Surrounded by the beautiful chaos of a swarm of camels and goats at a railway crossing, I peered up into the windows of the bus jostling next to me and saw the faces of plump tourists in their air-conditioned capsule. Sure, they were comfortable, but that’s not the point. I was on my bike as part of the scene. In their tour bus surrounded by a sound and heat-proof buffer of steel and glass, they were merely spectators. The moral here: If you want to experience our world, bust out of your cocoon.
6. It’s agile – Riding my GS one fine day on a dirt track along the Mekong River in Cambodia, I encountered an obstacle. A tributary feeding into the river necessitated negotiating a steep decline, crossing the stream and then scrambling up an incline of similar gradient. The only way out of that ravine was manpower: a half dozen villagers pushing me up the slippery slope spitting off mud from the rear tire like an angry gatling gun. No number of villagers could have managed to push a 2,000kg SUV out of that ditch. Advantage bike.
7. It feels so good – Yes, the grin factor. Do you remember the first time you rode a motorcycle? The first time you did a long road-trip? Your first wheelie? The first time you launched a dirt bike through the air or got your knee down on a racetrack? We ride because it feels good, because it makes us feel free. And no amount top-down driving in a Ford Mustang will ever touch that. As a wise woman once said, four wheels move the body, two wheels move the soul.
8. It connects you with people – In the developing world, ‘two-wheelers’ vastly outnumber cars on the road when you’re outside of cities. Local people you meet while riding down country lanes or when you take breaks in villages will more than likely be motorbike riders and as a result, be naturally curious about the foreigners exploring their part of the world. This is where the magic happens. It’s where the bike creates the connection between you and the people you meet as you explore. And isn’t this why we came in the first place?
   

   Making friends in Rajasthan

Colour me biased; I don’t care. After riding motorcycles through 40 countries and being blockaded by Maoist insurgents at the Nepali border, tracked by the religious police in Iran, escorted by the Pakistani military, lashed by a hurricane in Florida and enveloped in a blizzard in the mountains of eastern Turkey, I’ll surrender my right to comfort, protection and anonymity any day. Give me the bike.

Two Wheeled Expeditions offers adventures through Nepal, India and Sri Lanka.

The first time you fly into Kathmandu you will be amazed by this wonderland! It’s all that you expected and much more. The hustle bustle, the ancient culture and just the sheer number of people going about their business.

You may have landed with the sole purpose of riding a motorcycle or decided to add it to the tail end of your trekking trip. Either way you have some reservations. You recall travel documentaries showing dramatic traffic footage getting in and out of Kathmandu Valley.

Here are 5 tips to make your adventure less stressful and a lot more memorable.

1. Test Ride a day prior to departure

Even a 15 minute ride around your hotel will get you mentally prepared and put you a little more at ease the next morning. Two Wheeled Expeditions does a bicycle tour around the old town before giving you an orientation on the motorcycles.

With the test ride done your questions become clearer as opposed to imagining scenarios from inside a taxi. Most people are surprised by how quickly they adapt to the Nepali traffic.

2. Leave Early | Return on Saturday

You don’t have to leave at the crack of dawn but by 8am you should be crossing past the various roundabouts which will get progressively busy with each passing minute.

If you can choose your day to return into Kathmandu, Saturday is ideal when the city has least amount of traffic. It’s the one weekend day in Nepal.

 

3. Express yourself

Saints, gurus, priests and all those close to achieving Nirvana beware! If you’re the type who has accumulated religious brownie points, this highway is where you lose them. Your dark side will come rushing out as jeeps, trucks, cars and buses will seemingly scrape past you.

Your survival instinct may kick into overdrive and inspite of the Himalayan beauty all around you may only sense the bus hovering right behind you. Time to express yourself and don’t stress yourself.

By the end of the day you will be grinning from ear to ear but at the start you’ll be glad you’re the only one who can hear you inside the helmet.

4. Chia (tea) Thakali (meal) Breaks

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise but riding a motorcycle burns up calories. How else can you explain the need to stop for tea and meals every hour? Hourly breaks also makes safety sense.

Choose a chia shop or restaurant with more Nepalis and avoid those that are set up for Western tourists. The quality, price and taste are far better in places catering to local travellers. How do you know which ones are which? The local shops usually don’t have menus.

There are enough options on both sides of the road so find one on your left side. This makes getting back into traffic a lot easier.  Frequent stops reduces the stress and you’re able to process and adjust to the rhythm and rules of riding on a Nepali highway.

5. Overtaking

After couple of tea stops and even a plate of ‘Daal-Bhaat’ you’re ready to do what you thought impossible 24 hours earlier. Overtake a bus!

Always expect someone overtaking from the opposite side even on a curve.  Ensure you have a clear view ahead before pulling back that throttle and honking past the bus or truck. This lets the driver know you’re there and they usually slow down to let you go past.

Get used to buses speeding past you and then abruptly stoping to pick up passengers. You will overtake the stationary bus only to have it rumble past you few minutes later. Relax and enjoy the world’s best video game!

Hopefully these five tips will inspire confidence in you to attempt what many presume is too daunting. Test ride, leave early, express yourself, take breaks, overtake and enjoy the beauty and wonder of Nepal!

We asked Igor Spasojevic, a passionate adventure rider based in Canada why he wants to keep riding with TWE. 

What motivated you to do a ride in Rajasthan and Nepal? 

To be honest India wasn’t really on my radar. I wasn’t planning to visit it. My list of destinations to see was ever growing, but India wasn’t on it. Then, one sunny Tuesday in May, I think, I received an invitation to join the expedition to Rajasthan. It was a fantastic opportunity to ride motos with friends in an exotic land and I couldn’t let it pass. Following the joy and euphoria of this experience, when the opportunity came up to do it again in a less manic way and in a country that I had actually intended and desired to visit, which was Nepal, it was a no-brainer. 

 

Why did you choose TWE? 

They’re a bunch of ne’er-do-wells whom I have grown to appreciate as friends. I like the CEO with a “fuck everything” attitude, pink mohawk and a KTM. The TWE guide is one of the best humans in the world, great artist of life and an excellent guide. He works better without a GPS and takes better photos with his antique iPhone than with a DSLR. 

 

What do you ride at home?

KTM 790 Adventure R with some minor mods

Your next ride with TWE? 

Oh god!! Ha ha ha…once the borders re-open and once I can take some more vacation time, I’d love to visit Bhutan with TWE! or Ladakh! or Sri Lanka.. anywhere really. Marrakech? 

It was one of those biting mornings of late September in 1926, the kind that you know will lacerate your cheeks like a thin ice whip when you get up to speed, when the three bikers convened in the Stretford neighbourhood of Manchester. Their annual pilgrimage to the ancient town of Holywell in Wales was 53 miles of partially paved roads and cobbled streets away. Their transport for the ride, an OK Supreme, a DOT and a Douglas – three now defunct British motorcycle marques that were among the most sought-after of the era – stood fuelled, polished and ready for action. The women who piloted the machines, Babs Nield and Dot Cowley, both accomplished flat track racers, and their friend-slash-motorcycle-junkie, Agnes Golden, were still in their 20’s and anomalies of the riding community. As three of the first women to hold motorbike licenses in the city of Manchester, they were unabashed saboteurs of the stereotypes that were hung on women in the early 20^th century. The nation had only just recently given women the right to vote, they were banned from work after marriage and the notion of a woman even driving  a car seemed like heresy. But none of that mattered at all because Agnes had a mission for the gang: to ride to Holywell, collect some of the holy water for which it was famous, and transport the precious liquid back to Manchester as a gift for her religiously devout mother to cleanse her transgressions. And so, the young women clad in leather, heavy canvas and waxed cotton headed west toward North Wales in the cool morning light.

The roads were rough and only partially tarred so exceeding the 20-mph speed limit was out of the question. Horse-drawn carts still jostled with motorized vehicles for the same swath of macadam and cobbles. Escorted by the stares and jeers of those they passed on the way, the exotic trio arrived in the late afternoon and set to their task of filling Agnes’ grandmother’s flask with the waters from St Winefride’s Well, since the 7^th century a site of Christian pilgrimage. The next day, the flasks were filled and attached to the rear of Agnes’ bike and the women made their way home. It was at about the halfway point while riding through the village of Brooks Bar when a stray dog bolted from under a parked wagon and across the path of Agnes’ front wheel. She was fortunately moving at a slow pace but the evasive action caused her to lose the control of the bike and it went over in the middle of the road. She was unharmed and the bike was fine but the holy water was lost, spilled across the cobbled road like a bucket of mop water. It was Dot who spotted the solution that would set them back on their way. One of the large troughs scattered at regular intervals along the route for the purpose of watering horses would become the source of their faux holy water. Their flasks now refilled, they set off for the final leg of the weekend’s journey and reached home by nightfall. Agnes’ mum was waiting at the doorstep having heard the small-bore bikes from a half mile away. She beamed as she watched her daughter arrive home safely carrying the precious liquid cargo from Holywell. She could not wait until the flasks were in the house before taking a sip and declaring it ‘the best holy water she’d ever tasted’.

 

The women drifted apart over the decade that followed. Both Dot and Babs pursued their careers as flat trackers and Agnes settled into her role as a wife and mother to five children during the great depression. As soul destroying as it was, her bike was one of the first possessions to be sold off. The family scraped by in the pre-war years and then absorbed the full brunt of the Blitz from their simple two up / two down in the rough neighbourhood of Stretford. The Christmas Blitz of 1940, a ten-hour brutalizing by the German Luftwaffe that killed 73 people in Stretford alone on the night of 22 December, nearly led to the demise of the whole family when a bomb hit a school next to their home but failed to explode.  For Agnes, dreams of motorcycling seemed as faint as the heartbeat of a loved one near death.

 

Six years later hardship struck the family yet again when the River Irwell burst its banks and flooded the entire neighbourhood. As the water levels subsided, Agnes’ husband, Steven and youngest child Charles came upon a 1935 Norton that had been submerged in the floodwaters for over a month. Over the months that followed, the two painstakingly restored the bike in the sitting room of their little house. Charles still recalls vividly when his father first kick-started the resuscitated machine and the thunderous exhaust brought down 100 years of soot and grime from the sitting room fireplace, filling the room with blackness and roars of laughter. The home was a disaster, but they didn’t care because their mission had been accomplished. A week later, for her 50^thbirthday, Steve and Charles presented Agnes with a gift that rekindled a flame that was never quite extinguished: After 16 years, this pioneering woman was once again a motorcyclist.

The Norton was hers.

 

Reviewing a bike you have already purchased is like deciding whether you like kids after they are already waking you up at 3am for food or something: that ship has sailed. After swooning over it for a year as the perfect bike for my needs, I slapped down the £10,000 proceeds from an unused engagement ring and rode it home. Contrary to the proposal of marriage, there was zero question that this was the right decision. 100%. It is lighter and more off-road capable than the BMW GS I rode around the world, more street legal than my KTM 450 EXC enduro, and has more all-round usability than my Royal Enfield Himalayan. The perceptive among you may be bracing for some bitching.

Yeah, a bit.

The first thing I realized after a couple hundred miles on this bike was, if I was ever going to appreciate it, I needed to blow up everything I know about motorcycles .. and I’ve owned 16 .. because I have never ridden anything like it. The BMW R1250 GS is heavy and soft, the Triumph Tiger is cool but squishy and the Honda Africa Twin is pretty but fat. Not that they aren’t all beautiful machines because they are. This rethinking was necessary because the Adventure has more in common with my 450 EXC than my GS. Let me explain.

If a radical left-wing political party were scrappy enduro riders and the ultra-conservative wing were Fat Boy riders, the Adventure would be a dreadlocked, peace-loving supporter of Greenpeace. My EXC is tall and narrow, like the Adventure. My EXC has a 21” front wheel, like the Adventure. My EXC has WP shocks with lots of travel. Ditto the Adventure. The message is this: the 790 Adventure is more off-road orientated than any street-legal bike I have ridden and, depending on your intentions / expectations, you will either be super stoked and desperately disappointed. Let’s start with the disappointments, shall we?

The motor below 4,000 rpm annoys me. Even though it has two counter-balance shafts, below that threshold it feels crankily unbalanced with each powerstroke seeming to want to shake the engine from its moorings. Ok, I am exaggerating but you get the point.  I have ridden lots of parallel twins but none felt as unsettled as this one. The obvious solution is to keep it above 4,000 where everything just seems to fall into place and it begins to snarl. With about the same horsepower as the Africa Twin but 43kg less lard, it’s here you’ll appreciate the glory of power to weigh ratios.

The transmission has pissed me off from day one. If I ignore the fact that it ‘feels’ like the factory loaded it up with way too much sand before sending it out the door, getting it into neutral is an ordeal like no bike I have ever ridden, with the exception of some very old BMW airheads. The sales guy rolled his eyes about this complaint saying “it’s a new bike” at which point I grabbed his Canadian head and mashed it into the ground (in my mind). Having rebuilt a transmission or two I knew what was going on in there. Tolerance of the gears on the shaft and/or shifter forks too tight, perhaps? Anyway, I’ll keep an eye on it during the warranty period. Speaking of which, I have already had the front discs replaced under it due to warp. Shit happens.

Some additional, less mortally-wounding wind-ups:

-It doesn’t have a centre stand (WTFuck?) and the order I placed for one 5 months ago has yet to be delivered.
– The switch gear, especially coming from beauty of the GS world, is Dollar General / Pound Land quality. In other words, shit. Or at least looks that way.
– The design is particularly adept in funnelling furiously hot air from the exhaust manifold to your inner thighs and manbits necessitating periodic, unbecoming splaying of the legs, outrigger style, to cool off.
– The fuel gauge goes from “we’re good man” to “feed me now!” in the blink of an eye.
– The barkbusters are decorative only (crap) and should be upgraded if you are going anywhere near dirt.
– Obviously, if your grandparents cursed you with the short gene, that’s your (my) problem. But if you ever ride dirt or adventure bikes as a shorty, that is the reality of the geometry of ground clearance.

 

Ok, I’m done. After all that whinging you probably think I want to drive it back to the factory in Austria and ask for my money back. Nope. Wanna know why? Surprise!..it’s awesome off-road. Fit for purpose, as they say in the design world. It actually took a few hours of riding tractor paths through the chardonnay vineyards of Champagne for this epiphany to shake my buyer’s remorse. When I opened the throttle wide and let the orange madman tear through kilometres of rough gravel and dirt paths, terrain similar to what I have encountered in India, Pakistan, Laos, Cambodia, South Africa, Nepal and elsewhere on our planet, it…felt…perfect. Just like when when flying through the Nevada desert on my 450 EXC, nothing unsettled it. The dirt-oriented big front wheel smoothed out the ruts, the WP suspension polished off the rocks and holes, the ground clearance assured everything hard remained at an arm’s length. It possesses some of the most battle-hardened off-road characteristics of the EXC but it also swallows hundreds of kilometres of autobahn like an Audi A8..or at least an A4. But, and this is a big but, if your true intentions are to never roam far from the tarmac, the GS, Tiger, AT or a bunch of other adventure bikes will likely be a better fit.

I bought this bike for one thing: To use it as a platform to explore new terrain and create new expeditions for our company. And I am not aware of any other bike on the planet more up to the task.

 

 

Note: Expensive stuff I purchased to make the bike better, as follows:

– Offroad mudguard, bark busters and centre stand from KTM

– Offroad bashplate and crashbars from Outback Motortech

– Luggage frames and side panniers (Zega Evo X) from Touratech

– Enduro tires (Karoo) from Metzler.

Click for more on the KTM 790 Adventure 

 

Roro’s Picks

 

‘Lone Rider’ by Elspeth Beard

The Gist

It’s not your everyday 23-year-old, woman or man, who decides to temporarily ditch their academic pursuits and set off on a 2-year circumnavigation of what, in 1983, was a very unstable world. But this is exactly what Elspeth did and in doing so became to first English woman to complete a feat that has consumed many. It was not an easy journey, it seldom is, but accidents, misogyny, bureaucracy, theft and illness did not dampen her pursuits. 30 years after the deed, she found the inspiration and opportunity to publish her story and a beautiful read it is.

Why it’s on my list

My daughter and wife are both life-long riders and through TWE, we support spreading the passion of adventure motorcycling to as many women as possible. I met Elspeth on her book tour in San Francisco last year and was captivated. She was so young, inexperienced and vulnerable on the road but she embraced the challenge fully and learned things that will remain elusive to most of us: Once you have ridden a bike around the world, there is nothing you can’t do.

 

‘One Man Caravan’ by Robert Edison Fulton Jr.

The Gist

The cover photo says is all: A gent clad in Humphrey Bogart safari gear including the period helmet plows through deep desert sands on his underpowered 1930 Douglas. A Harvard graduate of privilege, Fulton bolted for the door at the age of 23 with the mission of riding 25,000 miles from London to Tokyo at a time when the world was unrecognizable from the one we live in today. He did it alone and with nothing more than his instincts and a 25-calibre revolver to see him through.

Why it’s on my list

Most of my reading of this topic, including Jupiter’s Travels by Ted Simon, could be considered ‘contemporary writing’: the authors are still living, the bikes are still readily available and the world they write of, more or less, is the same as one we can explore right now. But the planet in the pre-WW2 era was a very different place. Everything from infrastructure to geopolitics was unrecognisable from our current world. Fulton is the Indiana Jones of adventure motorcyclists and his stories convey that in every way.

 

‘10 Years on 2 Wheels’  by Helge Pedersen

The Gist

A Norwegian guy spends a summer abroad in LA where he meets lots of other exchange students. The experience fuels a desire to visit all of the places his schoolmates hail from. After a stint as a photographer with a Norwegian rescue helicopter outfit, he buys a 1981 BMW R80GS, weighs anchor and heads toward Africa. There he crosses the Sahara, rides the length of the continent and decides that exploring the world on a motorcycle is now in his blood. His travels would take him through 77 countries and have included such excruciating challenges as crossing the 80 mile Darien Gap, a dense, roadless jungle across the Panamanian isthmus that entailed weeks a hacking a path through the jungle and dragging his bike meter by meter.

Why it’s on my list – The 1981 BMW R80GS

Three reasons. Firstly, with the addition of The Investment Biker, these were the first books I read on the subject of motorcycling the world and they ultimately led me to ride around the world myself. Secondly, as a lifelong photographer of the National Geographic genre, his beautiful photographs visually catapulted me to wherever he happened to be riding. And thirdly, the bike. I graduated high school in 1981 and I had a pic of that very bike on my wall with the objective of riding from the East Coast of the US to Alaska. I’m still waiting..

 

Josh’s Picks

 

‘Running with the Moon: A Boy’s Own Adventure: Riding a Motorbike Through Africa’ by Jonny Bealby

The Gist

Heartbroken guy needs to get over his fiancé’s sudden death. Two years of wallowing solves nothing, so he opts for the age old cure. Adventure motorcycling. Rides out from the UK to Africa and back to find his mojo and much more.

Why it’s on my list

This was the first motorcycling book I read and since it begins in Kashmir, India, the place I’ve often ridden through, it has a special place for me. And starting the first chapter with a devastating tragedy meant it could only get better from there on. It’s not your usual Cape to Cairo story but covers both east and west Africa. The grit, beauty and raw adventure sits in contrast with fair doses of melodrama which I don’t mind.

‘Revolutionary Ride: On the Road in Search of the Real Iran’ by Lois Pryce

The Gist

English woman ships her bike across to Iran to ride 3000 miles from Tabriz to Shiraz. Why? Because some guy leaves a note on her bike outside the Iranian embassy saying “I wish that you will visit Iran so you will see for yourself about my country. WE ARE NOT TERRORISTS!!!” Of course, Lois takes this serendipitous note as a confirmation to go find out what the real Iran is all about. Resulting in a book filled with various shades of Iran through the people Lois meets.

Why it’s on my list

As an artist I tend to judge books by their cover and I must admit I had to push past the poor design and font choice for this book. I am glad I did because it confirmed what I’ve always heard from overlanders, that Iran is a must visit country. And having had few Iranian friends over the years, this book is what keeps the dream alive to someday ride my bike on the same route as Lois.  

 

‘Uneasy Rider: Travels Through a Mid-Life Crisis’ by Mike Carter

The Gist

This one is another broken-hearted biker who rides off to find if life’s worth living. Mike writes “the nadir of a man’s life is 42”, after which it’s a slide down to oblivion. Unless of course you’re riding your GS for the next six months. Mike isn’t out to win the Booker prize, he’s out to have a good time. An entertaining book with plenty of laughs, this is an easy read.

Why it’s on my list

On my list because Mike isn’t trying to come across as a hardcore adventurer. He’s happy to have us laugh along with him or at him. The reward at the end of this 352-page paperback about a 20,000-mile adventure is that Mike actually gets envisioned to move on in life. For those in doubt about the power of adventure motorcycling, Mike makes a great case in its favour.

We had reached the furthest westward destination of our March ride through Rajasthan, the dusty, 15th century citadel town of Bikaner, when the walls of Covid-19 started to close around us. We were still three days ride from our end destination in Delhi and Josh radioed to me through our helmet intercoms that the window to leave the country before lockdown was closing. It was now clear that we were going to have to pull a couple of long, gritty days to make the looming deadline and get everyone to the airport and on their way to their home countries by then. Since that final day, the 21^st of March 2020, Two Wheeled Expeditions, like every other travel company on the planet, has been idled.

It was two years earlier at my last employer’s corporate offices in Silicon Valley that the wheels to ditch my career in the IT consulting world and start this company were set in motion. The firm where I was employed as a business unit lead managing 500 people and a $20m sales target was consolidating and generous payouts were being offered to those who decided to leave. The fact that I had an unused business class ticket from San Francisco to Delhi sealed the deal: I took the money, shaved my head to a Mohawk, dyed what remained pink, flipped the corporate world a big middle finger and registered Two Wheeled Expeditions as limited liability company. 22 years of adventure riding and one and a half circumnavigations of the globe provided the street cred. From that day on, passion would become livelihood. Six months after launch we hit our stride. The new bookings every month put us on target to fill our 12 tours for the year, the great reviews were rolling in and the team and I got the validation we hoped for: we got the balance right. Price, tour quality and excellence in service delivered the experience our clients had thirsted for. The trajectory was unabashedly upward.

Then came Covid 19 and we all know what happens next. The collective civilization of our planet has been upended, economies have seized and hundreds of thousands have died. We have not had it easy; no one has. But if there is anything that this teeth-kicking pandemic has provided us with, it is time. Time to master baking, to perfect cocktails and to reflect on everything that is going on around us. This article is a collection of thoughts and learnings extracted from the experience and implemented as we do everything in our power to keep our dream alive.

• Don’t Back Down – The old song by Tom Petty accompanied me through the toughest days on the road during a seven-month ride around the world. Not even Talban drug smugglers who stood in our way in Pakistan’s Baluchistan province could withstand the mantra. The message is simple: every day a tide of doubt and even despair gathers around our feet. The stream of negative reports on the future of the economy is relentless and each one of them drives you deeper into a mire of hopelessness. But we humans are resilient and the yearn for adventure is nestled deep in our psyche. That truth keeps our motor torqued and our momentum unfettered.
• Set achievable, near term goals that support the grand vision – Being consumed by everything that cannot be controlled affects so many people right now. But if riding a motorcycle around the world taught me anything, it’s that breaking down any problem into small, manageable chunks helps you overcome being overwhelmed. Stay the course on your vision and make plans, even in the tiniest increments, to maintain momentum.
• Reset, retool, pivot – When we’re boxed in, we have to play the hand that has been dealt and find a viable path forward that leverages our strengths: the assets, skills, capabilities, and market position we have built. In our current world, we have to accept that fact that the overwhelming majority of the public will not be getting on a plane any time soon. Whether and for how long this is true is beside the point. Being successful entails taking risks and also hedging against risk. Looking for business opportunities that leverage what you are good at in new markets is a strategy for survival.
• Your people are your most valuable asset. Protect them at all costs – The airlines are facing an unprecedented dilemma. With massive fixed costs and passenger volumes down 95%, logic says they should reduce their personnel costs in equal measure. But the fact is, there is a staffing level below which business becomes unviable and a rebound impossible. With small companies like ours, the team is everything and without them you have nothing. Fight to keep them with your last dollar.
• Balance the excessive focus on problems with a regular inventory of everything that is going well – Many of us are in pain right now. There are so many uncontrollable, negative forces impacting us and it is very easy to get sucked into the vortex. While riding my motorcycle a couple of weeks ago, my mind stuck in the quicksand of negativity, I turned my attention to taking an account of all of that is good right now and my mood turned upward. Positive thinking is an immensely powerful force so harness all you can.
• Keep yourself mentally and physically strong, even when it seems impossible – The battle is only beginning, so better toughen up. My routine now includes daily meditation (an app), yoga (via Zoom), running (on the street) and weight training (shopping bags laden with books), all in the comfort of my small flat in London. Nothing can beat you when you feel ready for the fight.
• Seek out the sources of positive energy in your life – On dark days, and many of us will have them, seek out the people in your life who radiate positivity. People like this can help put things into perspective in a time when clouds may be obscuring yours.
• Stay connected with your audience and provide them with hope for future adventure – You have spent a great deal of time and money identifying and connecting with your customer base. Even if people are currently not buying what you’re selling, constantly remind them of why they sought you out in the first place. Eventually normalcy will resume and the world will once again take flight.
  

  Our last ride group – Friends for Life

• Manage cash wisely – Like almost every business except those selling designer surgical masks, we all need to manage costs. This has not stopped us from paying full refunds to all clients who had to cancel. Our company was founded on a principal of treating customers like friends. We actually, literally actually, love our clients and the last thing we want to do to people we love is alienate them.
• Ride your fucking motorcycle – When in doubt, I fall back on two wheeled therapy. Whatever your escape is, do it.

 

These are the shittiest of times, my friends. We all long for something: the touch of another human, to visit someplace new, to enjoy a meal at our favourite restaurant or a pint at our local pub. But even on the darkest days I can still see a light even if it is sometimes hard to find. We will ride again because we must. There is no option because as adventure bikers, it is the dream that makes us feel alive.

Two Wheeled Expeditions will resume operations with our 01 October 2020 ride through Nepal. To get the details on all of our upcoming rides and plan YOUR escape, check out our Expeditions page. Thanks!

‘Chai’ or tea stops are an integral part of any motorcycle ride across India. However remote the route there’s usually someone who has put their bet on opening a shack for the wandering adventurers out there.

In the Himalayan circuit, often the epic ride up to Khardungla Pass in Ladakh can be overwhelming for first timers. You’re high on adrenaline and thin on air as you go from 3500 to 5359 meters. By the time you’ve clicked that mandatory photo in front of the signboard the weather can go from sunny to a snowstorm.

As one descends to North Pullu check post, all you want is that hot cup of chai. And the Ladakhi lady I call “Didi” or elder sister is usually ready to hand me that sweet concoction after scolding me with, “where were you all this time?” I am not sure if this is her business tactic but it ensures I drink at least two cups.

Then there is Mr Dharmalingam in South India who has set up his stall on the border of Kerala and Tamil Nadu. In his heyday he was a mechanic who raced motorcycles. I am not sure exactly what happened that caused him to leave the city and live in the high ranges. One thing he does say is that running his teashop has enabled him to live a more fulfilled life.

All teashops are not alike. They are less a franchise and more a way of life, especially in rural parts of India. This is the social hub where you gossip, share & gather news, sell local produce and make ends meet with dignity. It doesn’t matter whether you are in snowy Ladakh or scorching Rajasthan – chai is always in demand.

As I found out, in spite of the sweltering humidity in northeast India’s state of Assam, I couldn’t help myself from trying out a delicious cup of you-know-what made over wood fire by another “Didi”. Thankfully she didn’t scold me even once. She couldn’t: her mouth was full of paan, a betel leaf and areca nut combo that’s popular in these parts, besides…chai, of course!

I could go on but let me end with another hot spot I like to frequent on my motorcycle trips. The western most corner of India is scarcely populated but wherever you find a small settlement, you’re sure to find a teashop. The marked difference between chai served here and rest of India is the size of the cup. They’re more like a bottle cap, which means you have to drink at least 6 cups.

Ok, that’s it folks. If you have absolutely no idea of what I’ve been on about, you can check out Roro’s how to make masala chai video. Or better still, ride across India and taste its goodness served in a cup anywhere and everywhere. And if know of a must-visit chai shop anywhere in India then please comment below and lets keep that chai love overflowing!

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Rajasthan, arguably the most exotic of India’s 29 states has been a fixture on our expedition calendar from day one and it never, ever gets boring. Goats grazing on the roof of a bus, a cow roaming down the middle of a busy highway and a face full of colored powder during Holi keeps things interesting. It may also be that leaving Delhi during the rush hour heave and arriving in the open Thar Desert is the closest thing to teleportation available. One moment you are engulfed in the throng of microcars and Tata trucks and the next you’re gliding past camel carts guided by saffron-turbaned farmers. But all bets were off in the age of Corona Virus, as every human being on the planet is now painfully aware.

The decision to proceed with the tour group of eight was made at a time when, with the exception of China, the world still seemed relatively virus free. India’s population of 1.3 billion had only a handful of confirmed cases and they were confined to the southern state of Kerala. The 22 infections being treated there where cause enough to cancel our Southern India ride, but the rest of the vast country was still untouched and so all systems were go. It only took two weeks for the world to change completely.

Barreling down a dusty highway on a motorbike with seven of your new best friends while camels and goats stream by can provide the ultimate distraction from a world that seems to be melting down by the hour. As a group we made a pact to ignore news apps on our phones as much as possible. But since the new best friends were also clients, Josh and I had an obligation to remain on top of the situation and alter our plans as the situation necessitated. More challenging than keeping track of the deteriorating situation, however, seemed to be maintaining a buoyed mood in the group. This is a bucket list ride and our job is to deliver that experience. Despite our efforts, the sense of gradual emotional degradation was palpable, and we just had to give people the space they needed.

It only took a face full of paint to kick the mood back into positive territory. Lunch and chai breaks during each day’s ride are a highpoint of every ride. We blow off some steam, exchange stories about all of the bizarre things we’ve witnessed, and the group dynamic strengthens. After the sweet chai was done and we were ready to blow the alarm to gear up, a posse of 20 somethings rolled up in full-on Holi face paint glory and it didn’t take more than a minute for our untainted group to become a target. After 15 minutes of colored-powder warfare and endless belly laughs, the stress levels were reset to zero and we were on our bikes again.

Jaipur, Jodhpur and Jaisalmer were their gorgeous, exotic selves and the group could not be happier: Stunning surroundings, delectable cuisine, beautiful hotels, awesome biker friends from around the world..adventure motorcycling bliss. It wasn’t until we hit Bikaner in the far west of Rajasthan that things began to unravel. What started as a complaint to the bureaucratic front desk manager about the construction underway on our floor turned into an issue about a notice they had just received from the government of Rajasthan. The directive was that all citizens from a long list of countries were to leave the borders of Rajasthan by midnight, 6 hours hence, or be subjected to a mandatory 14-day quarantine in the hotel. One of the countries on the list, the UK, was the home of one of our guests. We broke the news to him and the rest of our crew calmly and with purpose: we had already started the process of booking him a taxi for the 9-hour ride to Delhi airport fearing that other states may soon follow suit. The frenzy that ensued to get him packed, loaded and on his way was surreal for all of us: after 10 days together, with one stroke of the government’s hand only 7 of us remained.

We were two days’ ride from Delhi and, with the sense that the escape window was rapidly closing, we decided as a group to cut the remainder of the tour short and head to Mandawa the next morning. It was the right choice: the mood deteriorated as all the guests struggled with reservation agents to reschedule their departures. The Indian Government had ordered that all flights into and out of India would be suspended in a week’s time and flights were being cancelled in droves.

Our last night on the road was arguably the best. Our favourite hotel in India was waiting for us in Mandawa, the bar was fully stocked, and the pool was ours alone. We had no idea how horrible the state of the world would be in only three weeks’ time, but our party vibe definitely had an ‘end of the world’ celebratory tone and rode a wave of music and Kingfisher Beer into the wee hours.

The morning’s anticipated translucent haze mired the departure preparations only a bit. The team had internalized the daily ritual and knew we had a tough, long, chaotic ride back to Delhi. We were only 10 minutes into the ride when we hit the first roadblock.  With Josh at the lead and me riding tail, he gave me the news via our intercom: the Rajasthan government was sealing the border with neighbouring Haryana and all traffic was being turned back. We kept calm and kept probing the periphery of the state, but we are denied exit repeatedly. We toyed with going back and waiting things out at our beautiful hotel – but we sensed this was not going to be a short-term event and pushed on. Taunts of ‘Corona’ accompanied our ride through densely packed town arteries, and I sensed an uncomfortable tension. India has a reputation for spreading malicious rumours like brushfire via WhatsApp and those frenzies have been known to turn violent.  Ultimately Josh turned to his Malayali charm to tap local intel on the best ‘agricultural’ routes across the border. The circuitous track took us through the back alleys of villages, over wheat field cow paths and finally to a beautiful, treelined country lane that led us six hours later to the national highway and back to Delhi.

When everyone managed to depart India by the 19 March lockdown, the government stated the freeze would last 7 days. Of course, we know now that was excessively optimistic and tourists who decided, voluntarily or not, to remain likely find themselves sheltering in place in India to this day.

We are hopeful that measures taken to stem the contagion will bear fruit in India. India is our home and the epicentre of the most exciting adventure touring on Earth. We count the days until we are back in the saddle, doing what we love.

When you hear that eight out of the ten tallest mountains in the world are inside Nepal’s border, it’s easy to think there’s not much else. A possible reason why most visitors tend to only hover up in the Himalayas.

But for some who prefer motorcycle boots to trekking boots, the flatland known as the Terai offers a unique adventure like nowhere else in Nepal. The ride in these plains is as thrilling as the mountain roads that wind down to them.

It gets interesting from Bhutwal as you get on the straight road to Lumbini, the birthplace of prince Siddhartha Gautama, who later became the Buddha. Much of this road cuts through endless fields and tiny villages with gleeful kids waving at you as you ride past.

Eventually, you reach the Maya Devi temple and its compound is as serene and orderly as the outside is dusty and chaotic. The UNESCO heritage site with archeological remains from the 3rd century BC mainly attracts Buddhist pilgrims from across the globe and not the usual tourist.

Reaching here covered in the dust thanks to being on a motorcycle and then walking barefoot through its sacred ground is one sure way to embrace a sense of sojourning.

From Lumbini, you keep riding east, past the buffalo herders, countless cycles and tractors until the East-West Highway goes through dense forest. A turnoff takes you down into more fields and villages to finally arrive at the Chitwan National Park. This 93,200 hectare of parkland is another UNESCO protected site that is a surprising contrast to what Nepal is typically famous for.

The best chance to spot animals in the wild in Chitwan is from the safety of a safari vehicle. The last thing you want is to be chased by a one-horned rhino or herd of wild boars or cross paths with a bear or a tiger. If you do ride in the outskirts of the parks “buffer zone” make sure you are accompanied by a local.

The indigenous Tharu people here are known to be genetically immune to malaria-carrying mosquitoes. Legend claims it has something to do with the amount of home-brewed alcohol they used to drink. Regardless of whether you’re in the mountains or in the plains of Nepal, one common factor which is consistent everywhere is the resilience and kindness of the Nepali people.

From Chitwan, the dusty highway once again takes you past the paddy fields and slowly but surely winds its way up to the forest belt and then up the hills. By the time you reach Hitauda, you have had your fill of Nepal’s best stretch of flatlands and experienced the other side of its geography.

So next time someone says, there’s nothing but mountains to see in Nepal, tell them about the Terai.

Two Wheeled Expeditions rides Nepal in April, October and November 2020