One day before the longest day of the year, Deby and I packed up our camp and prepared for the journey home. We lightened our loads by sending camping gear home with friends from the rally, keeping only the essentials for the next week. The Norton had been a reliable companion for the past 10 days, but it was now looking worn, with its headlight held on by duct tape and a sticky coating of sap from parking under an unknown but sappy tree.

We didn’t have an exact plan or timetable for the ride home, but our first stop needed to be a friend’s house near Reno, Nevada, where my modern BMW motorcycle was waiting. We spent a very enjoyable night with the Griffith family but were eager to head north, just the two of us.

It took a while to get used to the much larger BMW and reacquaint myself with its smooth power and acceleration, as well as modern amenities like cruise control, an adjustable windscreen, a comfortable seat, a better riding position, and a quieter ride. After stopping to fill up the huge 30-liter tank (almost 8 gallons), we were flying back towards Quincy.

During one of the rally rides, we rode to Lake Almanor for a lunch stop. Some internet research showed we could rent a small cabin near the lake and explore the area a little more. I booked two nights. We tried to ride through Lassen national park on the way but the road was late opening for the season due to budget cuts with the park service. We found a nice back road that circumvented the park but we missed riding on one of my favorite roads in California.

Below is a picture of me and two friends on Nortons from the parking lot of the visitor center at Lassen National Park from July 2016. The elevation of the parking lot is 6736 feet and the road through the park reaches an elevation of 8512 feet.

We had a very relaxing two days in the cabin and didn’t do much except read books and go for a few hikes. We both like hanging out with groups of people but then it’s nice to have a break.

Next, we went to explore a part of california we’ve ridden through many times but never visited. The area along Interstate 5 north of Redding California. We managed to book two nights at the Jubilee Railroad Wilderness Lodge where we stayed in a refurbished caboose.

On the way we were looking for back roads and also checking one of my favorite websites, Atlas Obscura for interesting things to see along the way. Atlas Obscura recommend the Packway Sculpture Park, near the tiny town of Cassel, CA.,  “A whimsical display of massive metal sculptures made from recycled materials.” Well, who could resist that?

Those are just a few of the giant metal sculptures in the big grassy field. The following description is from Atlas Obscura. Here is the link: https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/packway-sculpture-park

Brothers Richard and Will Hathaway sell rock and aggregate outside Burney, California. Over the years, they’ve accumulated a wide variety of scrap metal from old machinery.In 1998, the brothers decided that, rather than just recycling the materials, they would make them into whimsical sculptures instead. Their very first creation, a “scrap dinosaur,” sat at the turnoff to their business. People loved it! It proved so popular that they have continued the tradition ever since, adding one new sculpture every year.

Just the kind of places we love visiting and it wasn’t really much of a detour. Back on the road we headed north on CA 89 and kept seeing signs for Burney Falls. What was that? I suppose there is only one way to find out so we followed the signs to the McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park. Like many parks these days we were greeted by a booth collecting a fee for the visit. We discussed turning around but I thought $10 to support the local parks wasn’t too bad and I wanted to see the falls. I’m glad we did.

We were told there was about a mile long interpretive loop trail to see the falls. We swapped riding boots for walking shoes and took off on the well worn trail to see the falls. Right away we could hear the 129 foot waterfall before we could see it a few tenths of a mile later. Wow, not only was water rushing from the top of the falls but hundreds of underground springs just spouted from the rock layers.

We followed the loop trail that went around and crossed over the top of the falls before getting back to the parking lot. In the lot parked next to us was two loaded down adventure motorcycles. It was two guys from Argentina who were on their way to Seattle to watch a soccer match. Small world, we were just in Argentina about a year prior. We exchanged stories and I even practiced my Spanish for a bit. Fun stuff.

Finally at the caboose we settled in and starting planning the next few days.

Like I said, we had ridden past this part of California on I-5 many times and had always seen the signs for the Lake Shasta Caverns. A check of the map told us that it wasn’t too far from Dunsmuir. I went online and booked a tour for the next day.

With our reserved time slot I programmed my GPS to take us to the visitor center and start point for the tour. It was a crazy super steep winding road down to the lake from the I-5 exit. Warning signs were everywhere that RVs were not recommended. I could see why. Fun on a motorcycle, not fun with a big vehicle.

We found out that the tour starts with a half hour boat ride across Lake Shasta and then continues with an harrowing  bus ride up the side of a mountain  to the cave entrance. Here is a picture from the cave entrance, you can see the marina in the background. 

The cave was awesome but my pictures weren’t so I won’t show many here. I highly recommend the visit.

The two days in Dunsmuir went fast and we had a lot of fun exploring the area, finding some hiking and an excellent restaurant called Zaks, if anyone wants to visit.

Did I say we were not in a hurry to get home? The weather was perfect and we were having fun riding so we looked for more areas to explore. We’ve been to a place called Happy Camp a couple of times before and remembered that there were some excellent motorcycle roads in the area. I went online a found a “hotel” in town with a vacancy, the Bigfoot RV Park and Cabins.

Happy Camp is a super interesting place in itself it’s a small, remote town not far from the Oregon border and nestled in the Klamath National Forest along the Klamath River with a history of gold mining. While riding I received a text from the Bigfoot Cabins, we were being upgraded to a house, would that be ok? Hmm, I suppose, why not? Upon arriving we were directed to “The Yella House. Guest House 4 Fancy Travelers.” Yes, that is us for sure!

It’s hard to tell from the following picture but the house was huge and seemed like it might be slightly haunted. There was a giant second floor with at least three bedrooms. The first floor had a full living room, kitchen, dining and laundry rooms with two bedrooms. We nestled into one small bedroom which was good enough for us.

We went for a walk around town and took a few pictures.

So we had the Yella house, Shadey RV sites and a Garage Sail. All in one day, ha.

But people did seem happy there. We hiked through a park and over a bridge with this.

One of the main reasons for choosing Happy Camp was an excellent gravel road that heads north out of town into Oregon towards Cave Junction, Oregon where there is, guess what.. another cave! We started our day with a morning walk and looked for a restaurant but nothing was open so we loaded up and headed north. The weather and the road was excellent. The road turned to dirt and we immediately starting climbing from the Happy Camp elevation of 1,000 feet to nearly 5,000 feet. The views were stunning. This area had burned a few years ago and the evidence surrounded us.

We decided to ride as far as Oakridge, OR where we found one of the last rooms in town at the Arbor Inn Motel and Storage Units.

Were we in a room or a storage unit? Below the lit sign it says “Friendly WiF” I presume that means friendly Wifi? What does that even mean? Or could it mean a friendly wife? Um, sure. Well, I’m glad I have a friendly wife and it actually wasn’t a bad place to stay.

The next day we rode another of my favorite Oregon roads National Forest Road 19 towards the Cougar Reservoir. We had the road to ourselves and enjoyed every mile. At the end the road follows along the west side of the reservoir where we passed the famous Terwilliger Hot Springs. We’ve never stopped but might have to some day. At the north end of the reservoir there is a dam with a road over it. In the past the gate has been closed but this time it was open so we rode over the dam to take a look. I checked my GPS and it showed a dirt road that follows back south along the east side of the lake. We decided what the heck and looped the lake on a nice and only slightly challenging dirt road.

Back at the north end of the lake we connected with OR 126 and planned to continue north to our destination for the night at Government Camp, OR. The route would take us on another favorite Oregon road, Breitenbush road aka Forest Service Road 46. But, before the turnoff to Breitenbush we saw a sign for the Mckenzie Highway. Ohhhh, we forgot that was here, yet another favorite road. But this one is way up on the list. The Mckenzie Highway is a tight winding road that climbs up though a huge lava field. You can read about it here: https://www.tripcheck.com/Pages/Scenic-Byways-McKenzie-Pass-Santiam-Pass

How could Deby pass up an opportunity to ride on an excellent mountain road though miles and miles of volcanic rocks!

We hiked to a small lookout tower made of, what else, volcanic rock and just hung out for a while.

With the best part of the road behind us we had the option of continuing into Sisters, Oregon and circling back on boring highway 20 or just turn around and re-ride the tight turns through the lava field. Oh, yea, that’s what we did.

We stopped for gas in the very small town of Detroit which had been almost totally  destroyed in a forest fire a few years ago before turning north on Breitenbush road for the last leg of the day. Somehow we missed the Road Closed Ahead sign. Maybe we saw it but didn’t think it applied to motorcycles? Maybe we assumed we could get around any closure? Nope, not this time. The road was seriously closed and huge machinery was running around without space for two motorcycles.

The Makenzie detour had put us behind schedule and now we had to retrace about 10 miles of the Breitenbush road, bummer. We had a reservation in Government Camp at one of the most expensive hotels of the trip. We thought we would enjoy our last night. Instead we backtracked and had to almost ride to Salem, OR before catching the very busy highway to the hotel at the base of Mt. Hood.

We arrived as it was getting dark which was getting close to 10:00 PM this time of year. We had a good meal and immediately crashed after the long day. The GPS showed 331 miles for the day. That’s a lot of miles when it’s mostly slow mountain roads.

The next day it was mostly straight home for us. We crossed into Washington in Hood River and retraced our route south along the Klickitat river into Goldendale, WA. We covered nearly 300 miles and were home in the early afternoon.

That wraps up our journey to the INOA rally and back. Sadly, this may be the last trip for Deby on her BMW. Deby’s bike now has over 75,000 miles on it and is only 5 years old. That’s more miles than my 10 year old car. We took it into the BMW shop for regular service and they found a problem with the cam chain. While repairing that they put something together wrong and all her valves collided with the pistons. That’s bad.

In the mean time, we have paid for reservations in Canada for an August trip. The bike will not be ready so we have to go with plan B.

Here is a sneak preview….

The next story is worth telling but it will have to wait until we get back in two weeks.

Thanks for following,

Donn and Deby

The destination for day two was Lakeview, Oregon. We chose a route that would get us there in just over 300 miles. We had a very uninspired breakfast at the hotel restaurant that included some type of breakfast muffin for me and a breakfast burrito for Tony. Tony said it didn’t agree with him, and it was probably a good thing he was driving alone. So, all gassed up, we headed south.

South of Maupin, we connected with highway 97 but again, only for a short while. We decided to turn southeast at Madras and head towards Prineville, where we would catch another of my favorite roads, the Crooked River Highway, which follows, of all things, the Crooked River. It is a great twisty section of road that terminates at Bowman Dam at the western end of the Prineville Reservoir State Park. At that point, there is the option of the more direct route south on a gravel road or a paved road a little to the west. We probably could have ridden the gravel section, but I wasn’t sure how much Norton abuse I wanted to chance, and Tony certainly didn’t want to tow a trailer on that route.

Once I hit Oregon Highway 26, it was high-speed riding the rest of the way—east to Highway 395 and then south toward Lakeview. I felt like I was really pushing the Norton, holding 70-plus miles per hour for stretches of nearly a hundred miles at a time, all while battling a steady headwind across the high plains of Oregon’s backcountry.

Originally equipped with a small 2.5-gallon tank, the vintage Norton wasn’t exactly built for long-distance cruising. Twice I had to flip over to reserve after less than 100 miles. Both times, rather than risk running completely dry, I chose to pull over and get gas from Tony and the chase truck.

Just outside of Lakeview, we finally reached the first gas stop in a long while and pulled in to top off before calling it a night. I glanced under the bike—and there it was: a six-inch puddle of oil beneath the primary chaincase.

Wait—was that from me?

I called over John and Tony to take a look. Yep, oil was dripping from the vent holes in my primary case. There is only one way for oil to get into my dry belt-drive primary: the main seal. Arrg.

I had been pushing the 50-year-old Norton hard for the last two days, and maybe this was what I deserved. I pulled off the saddlebags to remove the seat and checked the oil. I saw I was down about half a quart, which verified the pool of oil under the bike was indeed mine, and I didn’t just happen to park over someone else’s leak. Concerned and a little dejected about my previously great-running machine, I put on my helmet and hit the magic starter button—nothing. The starter just spun without catching. Really? Now the starter isn’t working? Great. Fortunately, I am highly experienced in using the kick starter since that was the primary way to start the bike for 40 years before installing the electric start aftermarket kit. So, in the heat with all my riding gear and helmet on, I commenced with the manual starting procedure. Center stand down, transmission in neutral, gas on, key on, locate the pistons in the right position, look around to see if anyone is watching, jump up and smash down on the kick starter with all my body weight and a slightly bent knee in case of a kickback. Because everyone was indeed watching, I had to repeat the procedure… but only twice before the mighty Commando roared to life. Whew.

Lodging options were limited in Lakeview, Oregon, and somehow months before, I picked the Neon Cowboy as the place to stay based on internet pictures and reviews. It was overpriced, but the rooms were recently remodeled, and there was a steakhouse and bar on site. Just what we needed after a long day’s ride. We scoped out the pool fed by the nearby hot springs, but it didn’t look appealing enough to jump in. Besides, I wasn’t in the best mood because of my bike problems and decided to go for the steak dinner instead. My GPS stats for the day said 307 miles in 8.5 hours. The moving speed increased to 62.1 mph, and the max speed dropped from yesterday’s 135 to 133 mph! Ha, I didn’t think that Norton could even go that fast.

The oil leak had slowed to a trickle at the Neon Cowboy Roadhouse

Sunday morning, we met at the steakhouse for a hearty breakfast and reviewed the plan for the day. It was 229 miles to Quincy, CA, the rally destination. We decided to ride 40 miles and then pull over to check my oil, and hopefully, we could gauge what the flow rate was and figure out how often we would need to stop. I took up Tony’s offer to put my saddlebags in his truck so I could easily remove the seat to check the oil. Soon we were packed, suited up, and prepared with extra 20w50 oil containers, ready to roll. I fully expected to have to commence the kick starting procedure, but I took a chance and pushed the magic starter button, and to my surprise, it roared to life. Oh, yea, let’s roll!

We stopped after the first 40 miles and checked the oil. It was full, and there were no drips underneath. Weird. Forty miles later, we repeated the process, and again, full oil and no drips. Okay, well, let’s go 100 and see what happens. We picked up our speed down highway 395 towards Susanville, and my thoughts were consumed with what could have caused the leak and why it seems to have gone away. We got gas in Susanville, and once more, there were no drips under the bike, and the oil tank was full. No complaints from me, but this was strange. The route from Susanville to Quincy was excellent as the road climbed into the mountains with light traffic and an easy road with great curves. We followed the east shore of Lake Almanor before turning south on some more excellent mountain roads into Quincy.

Deby and I spent the rest of the week tent camping at the Pulmas Sierra County Fairgrounds in Quincy, WA. The Norton was parked on a concrete section where I could easily see any leaks that might develop. I rode it every day on the various organized rides with the groups, and the underside of the Commando was dry as a bone. As an additional bonus, the starter started mostly working. Were those two things related? Hmmm.

Campsite at the Quincy fairgrounds

The rally was attended by around 200 Norton motorcycle enthusiasts from around the country and even the world. I thought there might be someone in attendance who would know what happened with my oil leak. I probably bothered almost a dozen people with my question, but the best answer I received was from Jim Comstock, who was camped right next to us in his tent. I won’t bore you with his technical explanation but basically I have a leaky main seal on the crankshaft that also impacted the operation of the starter.

Just some of the Nortons on display at the rally

Altogether, I added about 1,200 miles to the odometer on the Norton, and Deby never had to pull out her chair on the side of the road to wait for repairs. The only other thing that happened to the bike was when I hit a severe pothole hiding around a corner in the shadows of a leafy tree. The jolt was bad enough that my glass headlight lens popped off of the bike and was swinging by the wire. By the time I pulled over, the glass was smashed, and the “beauty” ring was no longer very beautiful. No worries, I always carry some duct tape for just this possibility, and we were back on the road before Deby could get her book out. Oddly enough, the LED bulb still worked, so I was even legal on the ride back. I did notice when we got home that I had a pretty good bend in my rear wheel rim. Ouch, I’m glad I didn’t blow a tire! That would have been a roadside wait for sure.

Slightly (?) bent rim

The trusty—but clearly road-weary—Norton made the trip home on a trailer, courtesy of our friend Gary. At the last day of the rally, I swapped it out for my modern BMW so Deby and I could enjoy a relaxing ride together for the return leg. Another INOA rally was officially in the books—1,200 hard-earned miles, a mysterious oil leak that vanished as quickly as it appeared, and a headlight held on by duct tape. It wasn’t flawless, but it was undeniably memorable. With the next rally likely two years away, I’m already thinking ahead—and starting to ask around. Who’s in for the next adventure?

Below is an interactive map of the whole route down and back if you want to zoom and see the details.

Thanks for following,

I hope to do another short post about our ride home soon.

Donn and Deby

The adventure of motorcycling often conjures images of exploring distant countries, winding back roads, rugged mountain passes, and unfamiliar cultures. But sometimes, the real adventure lies in the motorcycle itself. This is one of those stories.

Let me introduce you to my 1974 Norton Commando. I bought it on August 30, 1978, from Sportsmen’s Exchange in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, for the grand total of $1,200. It was an unusual shop that sold everything from sporting goods and chainsaws to outboard motors and motorcycles. I still have the original receipt to prove it.

One of the first things I did was try to turn it into a “chopper”—the style of the time. I added high-rise handlebars, a king-queen seat, a chrome sissy bar, and extended forks to give it that classic custom look.

Back in 1978, the Norton Commando was one of the fastest production motorcycles you could buy. I never lost a street race to a Harley or Triumph. But it wasn’t long before the Japanese motorcycle invasion changed everything. Once the fast two-stroke Kawasakis hit the American market, the era of British motorcycle dominance was almost over.

Almost exactly a year after buying this fine machine—in August of 1979—I met my wife, Deby. Our very first date was on this motorcycle. I can still picture the scene: me rolling up on the Norton, wearing a black leather jacket, long hair spilling out from under my Captain America helmet. I can only imagine what her dad must have thought.

Somehow, it worked out. That day marked the beginning of nearly 50 years of riding motorcycles together. Wow.

The Norton has been a wonderful machine, and together we’ve shared countless adventures across the United States. Deby rode on the back, often with camping gear strapped on, as we traveled from Wisconsin to the East Coast—and on another trip, all the way to Florida, carrying not only camping gear but also scuba diving equipment.

We’ve had our fair share of setbacks: breakdowns, flat tires, and more than one ride home on a trailer or tow truck. During my time touring with the band I played in, the guitar player and I both rode Nortons. We followed the band truck on tour through Texas, Iowa, the Dakotas, and back home again.

Flash forward nearly 50 years—I still have the Norton and have been working to restore it to its original condition.

For the past 15 years or so, I’ve been involved with a local group of Norton owners called the Northwest Norton Owners. It’s a motley crew of crusty bikers that have an affinity for these old British motorcycles. They’ve become some of our best friends and riding buddies. Many of them also ride modern motorcycles and we’ve had many great rides together. One of our adventures with them was documented in this blog in the series “Baja Virus Run“.

The club is part of a larger organization called the International Norton Owners Association, every year they have a rally in different parts of the country. For 2025 the location was Quincy, California. Should I ride my trusty Commando to the Quincy INOA Rally or not? That question had been on my mind since the rally location was announced almost a year ago. I asked around and talked to others in the club, but I didn’t hear the same enthusiasm I remembered from 2016 when a small group of NWNO die-hard riders made the trek. After some back and forth, I decided to tempt fate and ride the Norton the roughly one thousand miles to the rally. After all, how hard could it be? Here is a picture of the Norton in full touring mode.

My Commando is now nine years older since the last trip to Quincy but has never run better, thanks to loving care and diligent maintenance. I, on the other hand, am also nine years older. I’m still running okay, although my maintenance could be better, and a few parts are showing increasing signs of wear. Deby agreed to ride along on her modern BMW motorcycle. She joked (half-jokingly) that she would bring a camp chair and a book for the inevitable roadside wait due to a Norton breakdown. I hoped she would be disappointed on that count.

I spent time looking at routes and made a plan to get us to the rally by Sunday evening, in time for the official opening on Monday, June 16th. We rounded out our group of travellers with John and Tony. John planned to ride his Commando, while Tony would drive down with a trailer carrying a couple of motorcycles. Tony offered to follow us with extra gas and tools….just in case.

Ignoring superstition, on Friday the 13th at 8 AM sharp, we convened at the Preston Park and Ride, ready to ride. Due to last-minute problems with his Norton, John arrived on his 1972 R75/5 BMW, a very suitable bike for the trip. John made sure to point out that the engine was bored out to 900cc, making it the largest displacement motorcycle of the group. So, there we were, off to the Norton rally with my Norton motorcycle outnumbered two to one by BMWs. Somehow that seemed appropriate. Some years ago, there was a joke about the club that we are the Northwest Norton Owners, but we ride BMWs.

We decided to ride east over Snoqualmie Pass and spend the first night in Maupin, Oregon, just under 300 miles away and one of my favorite destinations. I took the lead because I wanted to set the pace, and I had the track programmed into my handlebar-mounted Garmin GPS. The GPS was part of my conversion of the Commando into touring mode with a windscreen, Mosko saddlebags, and provisions for my heated liner, which I was grateful for on the chilly morning.

Immediately, we were on the interstate where the speed limit was 70 mph. I carefully increased speed, trying to keep up with the traffic while listening for any hint of something wrong with the Norton. So far, so good. No unusual vibrations (just the regular ones) and no funny sounds or smells. I wicked it up to 4,000 RPM and was close enough to 70 mph for comfort. The windscreen directed the airflow just right around my Schuberth helmet. I adjusted the heated liner for maximum comfort while watching the voltmeter to make sure I wasn’t taxing the Lucas alternator or battery too much. I wiggled my butt on the Airhawk seat pad to get it in just the right position. Ahhh, that would be a lifesaver. I called Deby on the helmet communicator to ask if everything looked okay from behind. She responded that it looked fine, but could I go a little faster already?

Once we summited Snoqualmie Pass, the sun was out, and the temperatures warmed nicely into the mid-70s. We opted for old highway 10 instead of the interstate going east, and then in Ellensburg, cut south on Canyon Road along the Yakima River, one of the top motorcycle roads in the state of Washington. Traffic in the canyon was light, and I could push the speed limit around the corners on the Norton, testing the Roadholder suspension.

There are not many road options south of the city of Yakima, which is within the Yakima Indian Reservation, so we jumped on highway 97 towards Goldendale. About 60 miles south of Yakima is the St. John’s Monastery and Bakery, usually worth a stop. The bakery is part of the Holy Monastery of St. John the Forerunner and was founded in 1995 when the property was donated to the church for the foundation of a women’s monastic community. We only stopped briefly to stretch our legs, quench our thirst, and say hello to the nuns. It reminded me of John Belushi in the Blues Brothers; we were on a mission from God.

Anxious to get off the rather boring highway 97, we turned west in Goldendale and connected with state route 142, an excellent twisty road following the Klickitat River as it flows south towards its intersection with the Columbia River near The Dalles, Oregon. After crossing into Oregon, we climbed out of the Columbia River Gorge, feeling good about our day. The wind that had picked up along the river soon settled down as we climbed to over 1,000 feet on scenic two-lane highway 197. With only 40 miles to go and plenty of sunlight left in the day we took a short detour to visit the White River Falls State Park, where we took a break to admire the scenic falls.

Deby and Donn at White River Falls

Instead of returning to the main highway for the last leg, we found a small two-lane county road that followed the Deschutes River into Maupin, where we stopped for a few minutes and watched river rafts shooting the rapids at this popular rafting location.

Our destination, the Oasis Cabin Resort in Maupin, Oregon, consisted of twelve “charming” cabins and two vintage travel trailers. At the turn of the century, the cabins served as housing for railroad workers, and they were mounted on flat cars to be moved where needed. When the rail line was completed, the cabins were moved to their current location and used as one of Oregon’s oldest fishing camps.

Left to right: Tony, Deby and John

Cabins being used to house railroad workers

John posing with his vintage BMW and trailer

Deby, Tony, and I had cabins right next to each other, and John was booked into a small vintage travel trailer a short distance away. Shortly after getting off the bikes and out of our boots and gear, we found the beer in Tony’s cooler (thanks, Tony!) and unwound in the last of the afternoon sun, drinking beer and reviewing the day’s ride. My GPS logged 287 miles over a total time of 8.5 hours. The average moving speed showed 54.1 mph, but wow, it said I had a max speed of 135 mph! Clearly a glitch in the GPS system, but maybe?

More to come as we make our way south on vintage motorcycles.

Thanks for following,

Donn and Deby

Thanks for visiting our motorcycle travel blog. After an adventurous start to 2024 in South America we are home in the US for a while getting caught up on non-travelling life. We have a few things in the books this year including a trip to Canada in August that will include our friends Michael (pork chop in every glass) and Richard who rode with us in Copper Canyon. In September I have a crazy ride planned in the Southeast part of the US with a bunch of Harley riders! I’ll be renting a Harley Pan American. I probably will not be bringing my laptop for live blogging but might be inspired to ride up a post-ride report when I get home.

I’ve updated the links and maps on the tab above for “PastMaps”. It’s a good index to browse some of our past rides.

Check back for updates or Subscribe on the right for notifications when I do post something. I’m careful not to post more often than necessary so don’t worry about getting spammed.

Thanks for following,

Donn and Deby

We had the best intentions to cross from Argentina to Chile at Paso Agua Negra but we woke up to this view of the mountains….

Dang.. an online check of the pass conditions verified that the pass was closed. With the help of the hotel front desk we made a call and were informed the pass “might” open the next day or it might be closed for the rest of the season. Well, once again off to plan B. Continue reading →