Our Sunday... oops, Tuesday Tuneup!

After our soul-nurturing ride on the Blue Ridge Parkway for three days, we arrived at Overland Expo East in Virginia, not really knowing what to expect. Well, we knew what the other two Expos had been like. The one in Colorado, and the big one in Arizona had been full of adventure motorcyclists and 4-wheel drive enthusiasts who loved going off-road, hitting the high-altitude mountain trails, and roughing it out in the middle of nowhere.

But somehow I just couldn't imagine the east coast vibe being quite the same. We'd already heard that the East event was significantly smaller than West. Plus, horror stories of mud, mud, and more mud kept surfacing in conversations. It had been hard, and sometimes stressful getting all the way out to the east coast from Arizona in only ten days... and I wondered, was this going to be worth it?

Our Sunday Scoop

We had just spent the past week rushing across the country, from Arizona to Georgia, in order to get from Overland Expo West in Flagstaff to the upcoming expo in the east. It was hectic, it was uncomfortable, and I was miserable.

The days had been long and exhausting, with my ears ringing at night from hours of my helmet being battered by highway-speed winds. Plus, the weather had been terrible. Starting with the hailstorm that hit us in New Mexico, to the high winds in Oklahoma, and then topped off with the torrential rains of Arkansas and Tennessee, by the time we arrived at Tim's uncle's cabin in northern Georgia, I was ready for a rest.

But with only a few days left to get to the expo in northern Virginia, we had to now make a choice - stay an extra day in Georgia and then take some grueling highways up to Virginia, or leave the next morning and ride a more leisurely road up north called the Blue Ridge Parkway.

As we wrapped up our wonderful weekend at Overland Expo West, we now faced the daunting  prospect of what was next - traveling from Arizona to Virginia for the next expo in just ten days. Since these were overland expos, most people attending were in vehicles with four wheels, and if they were going to both of these, they'd be driving. That's still not a lot of time, but for us on a motorcycle, it was an even tighter schedule.

I find that motorcycle travel, though exponentially more exciting, is also more exhausting than traveling by car. The wind, the weather, the heavy gear, the sitting on a rattling machine in one position for so long... it all adds up to be more strenuous than going in a luxurious padded seat with armrests, drink holders, and windows to block out the rest of the world as it rushes by. 

​This is also one of the things we love most about motorcycle travel - the vulnerability of it. The way we're exposed to the elements, the way we're immersed in our surroundings as opposed to being in a bubble. But in this particular instance, I was not looking forward to the ride out the Virginia. And this was not only because we'd be taking highways, skipping all the sights, and having long days, but because the motorcycle hadn't always been working properly for us this summer. And we felt that at any moment something else could go wrong.

I look back on the days when we were living in our house in Kenya, and how I would excitedly write up my Sunday Scoop blog post each week. I would have time to think about it, to write it just the way I wanted it, and to choose the right pictures... Those were the days.

Because ever since we've been back on the road in the US, things have been different. Our days are filled with getting miles under our belt, bracing the winds, or cold, or heat, or hail. Sometimes the bike would function, sometimes it wouldn't start at all. And all the while we were nervous about keeping to our strict schedule of Overland events. And we were nervous that we might never reach our destinations.

Even now that we're back in Chicago (we're settling here for the winter), I barely have a moment to write a blog post. So I apologize for the lateness of my stories, but this one I think you'll like. Especially if you know our origin story of Maiden Voyage, and how we took our motorcycle on its first trip out West to Colorado and Utah, you'll understand the significance of us revisiting some of those places.

Once again we had broken down, and once again, a dear friend was there to rescue us. This time we had a non-starting motorcycle in Boise, Idaho, and our savior was Brandon Lever. As I paced around fretting over our latest mishap, Brandon told me that everything was going to be all right, and that he had a good feeling about it. But I didn't believe him.

Since the mechanics in Idaho were all fully booked, Brandon offered to trailer us and the motorcycle down to Salt Lake City to the dealership there. And hopefully, if all the stars aligned correctly, they would be able to diagnose the problem, and the solution wouldn't require any parts to be ordered, because we had just a few days before we had to be down in Flagstaff, Arizona for the Overland Expo West. There was simply not enough time to get anything done besides a simple fix, and once again, we were alerting the heads of the Expo that it was possible we might have to cancel all our plans.

I used to think Idaho was just full of potatoes. In fact, I never gave much thought to the state until someone told me that it was America's greatest hidden gem. And then more people told me the same. It took me a while to believe them, and to be honest, I still held some skepticism for years, figuring I might as well just go and see what they were talking about for myself.

​Idaho's beauty may not be such a secret anymore, but it certainly still holds an allure created by legends of lost travelers who speak of this treasure of a state like it's a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

While we were making base camp with our friend Pete in Denver, and planning our trip to Idaho, we were inspired to do a little detour. We met one of Pete's friends, Brady of MeerkatADV, and a fellow motorcycle adventurist like ourselves, and he had made videos of his time riding some incredibly high and gorgeous mountain passes in southern Colorado - Cinnamon Pass, California Pass, Hurricane Pass, and the toughest of the four, Corkscrew Pass. And when we saw the footage, our jaws dropped.

"It looks like Peru!" Tim cried with his eyes alight.

"Or Argentina, or Chile!" I said, grinning from ear to ear.

Considering that the mountain passes we did in those countries were some of our favorite riding on the planet, this meant that we now knew what our next adventure was going to be.

We were already feeling pretty much on top of the world after our incredible weekend at the Overland Expo Mountain West near Denver. We had just spent four days meeting wonderful people, sharing stories, and it was a real honor to be given such a spotlight as the only presenting representatives of international motorcycle travel. 

But this feeling of euphoria was about to get even better as we headed off with a film crew from LA into the mountains to do a shoot on us!

This is what we've been waiting all year for... No, actually, we've been waiting two years for it - the Overland Expo.

For Tim and I, the Overland Expo has been our inspiration for traveling by motorcycle since the very beginning. When Tim first attended as an audience member in 2017, he was starry-eyed and bursting with excitement for what our potential future could hold. He met some of the moto-travel greats - Sam Manicom, Lisa and Simon Thomas, Ted Simon, and so many more... And he began to wonder, "What if I could do this too? What if I could also travel the world by motorcycle and one day stand up on a stage to inspire others with my stories?"

​Well, I can't even believe I'm able to say this now, but our dreams just came true. And then plus some as well!

You may recall from our previous post that we had a bit of a problem last week - the bearings on the front wheel of our motorcycle blew up. And we naïvely thought that this might be the worst of it. That once we fixed the bearings, then we'd be able to ride from Chicago to Colorado with no problems, and attend the Overland Expo there in high spirits.

But we may have been a bit too optimistic. Besides the bearings, we had also been dealing with a few other minor issues, such as a broken fuel line connector, and the bike's electrical system shorting out sometimes, which rendered it unable to start for a scary moment. But nothing seemed catastrophic, so we figured we'd get out to Colorado as soon as possible, and deal with these little repairs once there.

But Tim says he had a feeling that something awful was going to happen to us, and that we might not be able to make it. I had no such feeling. So I just blindly hopped onto the bike a week ago in Chicago, said goodbye to Tim's dad, and headed west thinking that all would be well.