nklr. was riding with others, is riding alone

[achesley43@ymail.com]

 A big Amen to that Bryan.  But, I don't care what bike I'm on. Just so it will go down the roads I want to travel. Quit tent camping at 62 as a gift to me body. LOL!  Still do in the back of my truck when hauling my KLR on a bumper rack. Find it cheaper than motels and I've done enough miles in cold and wet and high winds to last me the rest of my life.   Once , the wife was asking me,   What are you doing to do if you have a heart attack or get injured really bad way out away from major roads and people" . I told her, Probably die and then it won't be my problem.  

---In dsn_klr650@yahoogroups.com, wrote: Presumably a lot of people on the list bought a KLR to fullfill a dream of roving far, maybe even "trip of a lifetime." At the same time, most of them have had the "never do anything alone" mantra drilled into them, be it river running, backpacking, motorcycle riding, backcountry skiing, whatever. I'm all with the poster who says go alone even if it is exactly what you are not supposed to do by conventional wisdom.   I bought my first KLR because I wanted more range than I had in boats or on foot, but I also wanted to live closer to the bone than I did traveling in my van. Since then I've ridden it 17,000 miles of mostly backcountry roads out west from the Canadian to the Mexican borders. (Not much, I admit, but I put even more time in on rivers!) Two years ago I bought a second KLR over in Europe and have ridden that one another 4,000 miles of back roads and cart tracks in the Balkans and central Europe. US or Europe, I've always ridden alone. This past August I did 3,000 solo miles on some pretty rough roads in countries where I didn't speak more than six words of the language. Two places I camped at said I was the first American they had ever met in person. I slept outdoors, very comfortably, 19 out of 21 days. I never felt at risk, I had no mishaps, and best of all, I had no gear I didn't use (except First Aid and tools) and no gear I was missing. Practice makes pretty good. It was a perfect trip, and it never could have happened if I wasn't willing to go solo.   If you wait around for the perfect bike, perfect stove, perfect tent, perfect riding partner... you'll never leave home. Go simple. The perfect bike is a used $3,000 KLR with improvised saddle bags. The perfect stove is a tuna-fish can and a bottle of isoproyl alcohol, along with some handy rocks. The perfect tent is a tarp. The perfect riding partner is inside your head.   So, what if you aren't that skilled? It's like being a kid learning to camp. Start in the back yard, then a nearby state park, then further from the trailhead... small steps mean small mistakes. Lots of baby steps add up to the skills and will to march out deep into the unknown. Begin with short trips where self-rescue or calling in a friend is not out of the question, and you'll soon be ready to roam far, or at least realize you picked the wrong dream and motorcycle touring isn't for you. Granted you should have the skill and will to splint or relocate a broken wrist, sprained ankle, or dislocated shoulder, not to mention change a tire, but then again, alone makes you really cautious.   Going alone is the only way to really be free to make the miles and destinations you dream about. Waiting for perfect will just kill the dream.   Bryan