Category: bikepacking
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Alabama
We’re in a Mexican restaurant that’s playing twangy country music. New Year’s Eve. It was a long day, not much above freezing and heavy rain and we had no choice but to ride 60 miles to get here, Ozark, Alabama,…
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Georgia
A little black and tan chihuahua sprints flat out down the hillside. “Ahrahrahrah!” he yells at us. We’re on a nice quiet road outside of Athens, Georgia. “Look at this little guy,” I say. He keeps coming, hits the raised…
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Railroad Tracks and Raccoon Trails Across America: South Carolina
“I can see a trail down there. We should turn around,” says Colleen. We’re 20 feet above the swamp, balancing our bikes on a railroad trestle that’s being rebuilt as a bike bridge, but isn’t quite done. It has some…
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Mystery Pee (and we’re riding cross country)
“I think I left your water bottle in the mini van, let me grab it,” Colleen says. It looks like someone filled the bottle with beer. She unscrews the top. Scrunches up her nose. “This is full.” She pauses and…
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A Packlist
The world really doesn’t need another “gear in a grid” post, but here’s one anyway. I think we have stuff figured out pretty well at this point. The disembodied feet pictured are not packed anywhere, as I keep them attached…
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New Zealand: North in Northland
“That’s all mate,” says the baggage guy and pulls off his gloves. I’m standing with my bike on a little cart, Colleen sits against the wall sweating, doubled over with a real bad stomach ache. “You sure? No more bikes?”…
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San Francisco to LA
The big grey-blue cat is sitting in a basket on the counter, licking weed oil out of a dropper. “He just loves it,” says our Warmshowers host. We’re in Emeryville, across the bay from San Francisco. “I’ve been giving him…
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Pacific Coast
“Halp! Somebody halp me!” yelled the old bum. One of his legs was stretched straight out across the top of a fence next to the Mon River. I looked at him, help with what? “Foot got caught in the monkey…
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San Evaristo to La Paz
“Well, there’s a little climb you’re gonna go up,” say the old American guy in the 4×4 van. Just a little one. Hardly noticeable. Real quick push. A few hours of hot desert riding and nice coast riding gets us…
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Loreto to San Evaristo
“We gonna start another war!” yells the older French Canadian guy. We’re burning some palm fronds that I gathered up earlier from around the campground. The fat bases of the fronds make pretty decent firewood. “Another war!” he yells at…
Metal Cat Bikes 