Step 3 - Training and Practice

A major part of adventure riding for newbies should include some level of training. As the growth in this segment of riding explodes in popularity there are no shortage of articles shaming the inexperienced rider getting in way over their skill level. That's not to say they can't handle a bike but there's a certain level of mastery that comes from growing up on a CR50 that cannot be taught while tearing up tarmac. There are a rising number of professional courses that can teach greenhorns and experienced riders alike. I highly recommend some instructional activities for anyone (myself included) who hasn't tried this style of riding. They do book-up fast so plan ahead and reserve early. With some of the fundamentals firmly planted the next step, like any good athlete or performer, is practice: there's no substitute for first-hand experience off road. 

Kawasaki KX-450F "trainer"

To help ease my transition from blacktop to back-road I started by getting a cheap dirt bike off of Craigslist. If I had any sense I would have gotten a 125 four-stroke to learn the finer nuances of ride control. Instead I took the "go-big-or-go-home" approach and landed on a KX-450F thinking (wrongly) that the added weight would get me more quickly acclimated to the Tiger 800's handling characteristics. Long-term that might work but it was basically on my third afternoon ride that I wound up battling several miles of water-soaked clay road covered in a layer of what I can only describe as wet drywall putty mixed with pudding and shit. Up until that point I was having a blast kicking the back tire out a few inches and pulling power wheelies all the way through 5th gear. With my confidence stoked I plowed full steam ahead into the bog thinking the thick knobby's would bite. Unsurprisingly, and within minutes, the front tire washed out so far that no amount of correction would bring it back in-line. My foot went down and immediately stuck to the soil like honey so I laid back and let the inevitable happen. I actually learned two things that day: 1. how to pickup a motorcycle out of the mud with little or no traction and 2. that I'm not the hot-shit rider I felt like only minutes before. With pride in-tow I pressed on, albeit at a lightened pace. Fortunately, being a cheap (largely disposable) bike no damage was sustained, though I did gain a few extra pounds of mud-weight for the ride home. I'll continue to use this machine to hone my non-existent skills but the next test would be my first true "adventure" trip - and an international one at that!

ATK Motos 125TT Off Road

During a visit to Colombia a couple of months ago my wife and I decided to make like a local and rent a motorcycle for the day. It sounds like a mundane effort since scooters nearly outnumber cars in the country - and for good reason! Having paid our $50 deposit and rental fee we donned the nastiest pair of helmets you've ever seen and took to the streets on the poorest excuse for a motorcycle I've ever laid eyes on. When new, and in tip-top shape this ATK Motos 125TT Off Road might be a good low-cost option for 1-up single-track but our example was neither new nor maintained. The speedo could accurately read only 0 kph, the brake (singular) was more of a suggestion, the clutch chattered more than the hosts of The View and this thing had clearly been dropped more times than a rap-battle microphone. The pegs were so badly bent that the clutch cover burned my ankle with every shift and the passenger pegs were held on - no joke - with bailing wire! Being the troopers that we are we took the keys and hopped aboard only to find out that the neighborhood we were in didn't permit 2-up riding. To avoid a very unlikely ticket, we threw caution to the wind and did the dumbest thing we've ever done: My wife bravely hopped into a truck with blacked out windows and four giant strangers in order to escape the section of town that prohibited bike passengers.  I followed (very closely) behind on the under powered carbureted POS in an unfamiliar city praying that they didn't decide to just haul ass knowing that I'd be powerless to keep up. I guess sometimes it's better to be lucky than good and, before too long, we arrived at a parking lot where she emerged - unscathed - from our host's pickup. From there we took a deep breath, thanked the stars for aligning, saddled up and hit the streets!

Notice the painting in the lap of the guy behind us!

Now, I've ridden in traffic before; I've even been in downtown Bangkok during rush-hour (2 hours, 1 mile) but this was on another level. With an overwhelmed road network, failing streets and sheer number of travelers the drive was harrowing to say the least, especially 2-up, as we wove our way around buses, cars, pedestrians and potholes big enough to swallow entire cars. Horns constantly blare in all directions, warning of fellow riders passing on both sides. Lane markers are merely aesthetic, traffic lights and signs provide only mild suggestion as to what other motorists might do and every square inch of street surface is packed with all mode of transport: motorized, pedestrian or animal, at times cramming as many as 8 vehicles across a 3-lane road. The heat from the air-cooled thumper only makes the sweltering tropical heat worse and with 99% humidity we're both soaked in sweat in mere minutes.

Convent of Santa Cruz

Despite the perils we pushed on and found a few stretches of open road which, eventually (after a handful of wrong turns), led up a twisty-windy road towards the Convent of Santa Cruz de la Popa, which is perched atop a mountain overlooking the beautiful city. We stopped to take in the view (and a few bottles of water from a barrage of street vendors) before making our way back into the heart of the city. 

Inside the Convent

View from the top

Having no access to my GPS we begin to wander - easing into the flow of traffic and moving seamlessly with it. Among the locals we see all manner of traveler, many accomplishing feats unthinkable back state-side. Riding 5-up, carrying loads of plywood sheets, barrels of beer, furniture or any number of other goods - all perched atop a machine rolling on rubber-band-like tires with little more power than a hamster-wheel. Incredible! Weaving in and out of the madness we eventually find our way onto a gravel back-road and - VIOLA - adventure riders we had become!! Though one of the most taxing (both mentally and physically) rides I've ever taken it was clearly one of the most memorable experiences of the trip. All great things, however, must come to pass and after about 5 hours of on-your-toes action I was succumbing to heat-stroke so we wove our way back to the rental station, dropped off the rickety ride and beelined to the nearest restaurant with air conditioning. What a trip!

Urban adventure riding in Cartagena, Colombia