Thoughts on solo moto travel

This post is something I’ve had in mind for a long time. In many ways, it’s not just a reflection on solo moto travel, but solo travel, moto travel, long term travel and of course, all three together. The reason I wanted to write this is that the stories along the way can easily mask the day to day (dare I say) drudgery of this bizarre lifestyle I find myself in. Not in a bad way, but each post has so much activity and movement that it’s easy to think when reading the blog that everything is a blur of non stop adventure and excitement. Well, in fact it is. But paradoxically, it is also a life in slow motion. For all the meeting and greeting and sightseeing and drinking, there are many, many, many hours sitting on a narrow hard seat on a boring highway and there are many, many, many hours of downtime at each destination. I hope this post will better highlight what the “other side” of solo moto travel looks like. You may discover many paradoxes, but I like paradox because that is where truth is revealed.

ISOLATION

Ok, so I’m sorry to go all heavy from the get go, but this is by far the number one thing worthy of sharing. The saying “No man is an island” never hit home any harder. As an extravert, this was one of the very first things that struck me. I once saw a reality series called “Alone” where survivalists were thrown on Vancouver Island off the west coast of Canada completely separated from anyone else and each other. Their goal was to outlast the other competitors and “survive”. I should also mention bears, cougars and wolves also resided on the island. Once a few competitors were weeded out (some quite justifiably due to close encounters with the aforementioned wildlife) and the remaining stalwarts had established their routine of fire building and maintenance, water gathering and purifying and food sourcing (no mean feat), the thing that really stood out was how hard it was for them to deal with the isolation. Now I may or may not have had some ideas that I might be able to undertake this challenge (***cough*** …delusional), but it wasn’t until I got to Iran that I really understood some relatively small degree of isolation… and even that was tough! You see, the Iranians are amazing, hospitable, friendly and welcoming people. But in those first few weeks when your interactions are reduced to what I term as “transactional”, then you really, really notice how alone you are. If you can’t engage someone beyond buying food, accommodation and petrol then you are not engaging. Ironically, I think I called my family more times on FaceTime in those weeks than I did at home (and I’m pretty sure when a call was coming through the usual thought was “Shane must be bored again” except from Mum of course). What’s more is there wasn’t even a pub where you could have a beer with a fellow traveller. (Again, the pub is about the potential for interaction not the alcohol.) Of course, the isolation is amplified by how much spare time you have. When you stop working, you really realise how much of life it takes up… hence why so many people can’t enjoy annual leave for more than three weeks at a time. Even in European countries where there are much more opportunities for conversations, with so much down time, the isolation presents itself often. Even those interactions are fleeting in nature. For example, let’s say you meet someone and you chat for an hour or two. Could be on a tour, could be at a cafe or a bar. Even though the short term gratification of meeting someone nice and having an interesting conversation with them is wonderful, their departure thereafter is a reminder of that isolation because you know that in all likelihood you will probably never see them again, even if you get on like a house on fire. And you are on your own again. Now I’m pretty sure an introvert or someone from a small (and less “over the top”… ha ha kidding) family is probably wondering what I’m on about, but I can only share from my own experience. Think about meals. How many do you eat alone? Most of mine are solo. I try to avoid looking at my phone, but every day has at least a couple of hours associated with eating and unless you are somewhere you can people watch, then sooner or later, the phone will be out to relieve the boredom.

ANXIETY

No need to be alarmed, but this one I find fascinating. There are all manner of things during solo moto travel that cause even mild levels of anxiety. Let’s start with the bike. Making sure you have your luggage packed properly and then tied down for the journey is definitely always on my mind when riding. Even just looking over one’s shoulder or giving the bags a wiggle mid-ride to check on the strapping is enough for me to feel better for an hour or two. Of course, the bike maintenance including air filters, oil level and quality, electrics and things like indicators are a constant focus. So many times an indicator will break just from sheer vibration. Low quality usb cables charging the iPhone (which serves as my GPS) often move less than a millimetre only for me to discover my phone hasn’t been charging and is about to die. Of course, I don’t need to mention engine overheating. Fortunately, in this climate and with my new fan switch, it’s not something that I have to worry about these days, but I’ll be interested to see how the bike fares in the deserts of Uzbekistan. Zippers are my nemesis, but I’ve now developed a routine whereby I’m 99% confident I have them done up at all times (although I left the one with my wallet in it undone when I left a toll booth the other day). I’m not exaggerating when I say that I check my money belt and enduro pants zippers about six times on a three hour ride. Minimum. Once bitten, twice shy. Or maybe I’ve been bitten thrice.

Navigation and city riding often induce a mild form of anxiety. Just whether maps.me will actually send me the right way. Even getting into AirBnB apartments when the host doesn’t mention the floor or door code and your SIM is not working are enough to unsettle. But the weird things is that none of these things really alter your state of mind too much, you just get used to having that slightly anxious feeling for a little while and then it’s gone. Leaving one accommodation for a road trip sucks. Packing bags and making sure you have everything. But then there is the rewarding feeling of being on the road again and it is sensational! (Aside from aforementioned minor traveling anxieties.)

ENCOUNTERS

Time for the joy. As you will have already read, the encounters are simply amazing, uplifting and humbling. And there are many. It could be a minute, an hour, a day or a week… or in Ali’s case… a month! But these are nonetheless, by far, the thing I live for in travel. Sure, the sights, sounds and tastes of new locations and cultures is enormous, but for me it has always been about the people. This may sound like a cheesy soundbite, but I have no shame in saying it because I have witnessed it again and again and again: Every single person on this planet has a story. And when you stop and listen to each one you can’t help but feel closer to everything and everyone around you. I mean think about it. For anyone who’s ever traveled, I’m sure you remember meeting someone and walking away feeling amazed, humbled and overjoyed. Just knowing where they come from, what they do, why they are there, what their life is like, what perspectives they have on the world. They can be completely different to you, but the mere act of sharing is what connects us. To me it’s like a spark of divinity.

FREEDOM

This one I often inadvertently take for granted. With no strict time schedule, no other parties with me, a reasonable budget and a bike that could just about scale a tree, the freedom is incredible. Even the ability to change your direction at extremely short notice is so amazing. I can sleep in, leave late, stop for photos or food, take a detour or even make a phone call all without a worry in the world as to whether it fits in with some schedule. The same goes for being in new location. I am free to be as active or as lazy as I choose.

TO DO OR NOT TO DO

A logical extension of the freedom category above, the “to do” or ” not to do” decision occurs multiple times a day and it relates to how much tourism one participates in. For me, it really ebbs and flows. Sometimes, I pack in a full day of sightseeing, tours and museums. Other days, it will be a stroll around and that’s about it. I’ve never been one to worry about whether I’ve “done everything” in a location. I’d rather just go with how I feel. Sometimes, I have to force myself a little because I know if I’m being lazy and usually I’m rewarded with a nice experience.

ROUTINE

I’ve never been much of a routine person, but I guess there is some semblance of it in my journey. Firstly, I simply never worry about getting up early. There is so much daylight for riding and with late checkouts I prefer the casual rise, shower and breakfast before beginning the packing process. Besides, I’m a night owl. My riding usually occurs between 12pm and 4pm and often I don’t even bother with lunch. It depends largely on convenience. People are amazed that I ride with so few carbs to power me, but I actually don’t even notice it. On top of that, sometimes when I’m riding I’m focused on getting to my destination, so the reward is to relax and eat there, rather than at a service station. After all this time, I would have to admit that I’m still not very good at savouring the journey. Times when I see a nice little dirt road detour I will think to myself “Nah, too much hassle”. It is pure laziness. I blame the long family car trips to Theodore and Kinka Beach in the Kingswood as a kid. Ever since, I like traveling (safely) at express pace. I’ve noticed some moto travelers purely live for the ride, but for me, I prefer more balance between the riding and the experiences at each destination, so I am quite conscious of having time to include just that. I think as I get into Russia and the ‘Stans this will be where I start to explore more. I certainly lament the lack of off road experiences I’ve had in Europe, but like life, everything is a compromise.

PLANNING

This is not as hard as it would seem. Basically, because there actually isn’t much to do. I typically create a rough itinerary of countries and sometimes cities with dates. From there I then take it a day or two at a time. Accommodation can be booked last minute and again, with the bike, I’m free to determine route and timing. The hardest part is learning enough about each place. You can’t exactly do an enormous amount of research up front because you are usually reading about where you might be at that exact time. You then do a quick google of the “top ten”, maybe get some tips from locals and participate in the the odd walking tour.

RIDING

It is a long time in the saddle and it can get very, very boring. But I have a number of things I do. Firstly, I listen to music. With my earplug headphones I don’t have to blow out my eardrums. I used to have the same playlist every day and it became a kind of ritual for me to leave somewhere excited about what was next and kick off with “Get home” by Angus and Julia Stone. In the early days, this would be quite emotional. I think it was because I simply couldn’t quite believe where I was or what I was doing. I would sometimes actually scream triumphantly or laugh and other times just have a tear fall down my cheek. It’s hard to fully capture that whole range of emotions I experienced in the early weeks. I think getting to Europe changed a lot of that because everything felt more familiar and easy and certainly less adventurous. I wonder how I will feel when I am somewhere in the middle of Russia. Secondly, I pray, meditate and contemplate. It’s not so much for safe passage (although I hope that is an upside), but rather just to be in the state of mind of openness, acceptance and grace. As much as possible. I’ve noticed small changes and mostly it is to do with just “being still”. Thirdly, I think. An enormous amount. Yep, when I’m not being still, I’m doing the exact opposite. Gotta love paradox. Given my propensity to analyse just about everything, the bike trip sure gives you time to do that. Too much time actually. And so that is when I opt for number four: admire the scenery. Which in many ways is part of number two, but ultimately leads back to three as it raises questions like (Hmmm, what crop is that? Or I wonder how many wind turbines are in this country? Or where on earth is everybody in this town? etc etc). I like the riding. You can easily fill your head and clear it again all in the space of minutes. I’ve even started turning off the gps, just so I can focus on the road signs and scenery more and stop counting down the kilometres. I don’t know what all of this time spent will mean when I eventually end my journey, but I have definitely appreciated the time to think, pray and be still. Sometimes in life you need these things to be forced on you to actually accept and embrace them. I’ve definitely been given the perfect environment for that.