From Madol-Duuwa to around the world

Yes, finding Neutral would be almost impossible with a shattered gearbox! So glad it was "minor".

Can't wait to read more. I have a fun life here in Chicago but reading your reports take me away from the concrete jungle.

Ride on!

Oh wow Dylan! You are having the most amazing adventure (in the someone-else-far-away sense) :eek1 I'm so glad I'm reading this and not living it (well, kind of). Looking back (and forward to a possible future) maybe I should have been an engineer and not a biologist Loving it!

Good to see that you will be able to get back on the road without a more major repair. Really enjoying your report, we crossed paths at the HU meeting in Nakusp in late August and loved your presentation. Will be following along.

This is the broken drive-shaft. As you can see it's not just worn out. It's broken to pieces






From the car spare part shop, I bought this universal joint of a Japanese car





The little one helped me to get the parts cleaned, The housing was full of debris.






The masterpiece!

** Sorry, what was the brand name of the bike?**

After the recent repairs, I started riding through Nicaragua towards Costa Rica. At this point of writing, I had done nearly 600km and the bike seems to be running smoothly and without any problems.
On the Nicaraguan side, there seem to be too many police checkpoints. Shmuel Avital, my riding partner for two days decided to accompany me down to the Costa Rican border. Twice we ran into the arms of the waiting police because we were overtaking other vehicles where it was forbidden. In the first instance when we got pulled over, one of the officers asked for my papers and then started writing down my particulars. Though he had all my documents in his hand, he still asked me questions such as, what my name is, and what the vehicle registration number is, and so on and so forth in Spanish. Then there was the next question. What was the brand name of the motorcycle? Since my Spanish isn't that good and hence didn't understand the question right, I paused. Then the police officer repeated the question. The other police officer who was standing next to the bike, took a good look at my bike and gave the answer.
"Cambodia" he said!

geez. i wish i could make my own parts when they break down. nicely done!
let's hear some more!

Awesome photos and RR

I have been rushing through Central America and as a result, the last few days have been hectic. The recent troubles I had with Bruce and also my depleting resources made me ride faster than ever. I guess, it’s a kind of a way my brain reacts to the panic situation by telling me to “speed up” so that I’ll be closer to my desired finish, riding around the world, before I’ll be forced to stop.
In Costa Rica, I enjoyed the beautiful landscape as I rode southward, spent a night camping in freezing conditions close to Volcano Irazu and explored the region the following day. After that I rode through the mountains towards the Pacific coast. The mountain landscape was breathtaking! At high altitude it was freezing cold and the visibility reduced to 10 meters at some places because of the fog, but the rainforest vegetation under the curtain of fog, presented a fantastic and fairytale like landscape.
But once you reach the coastal area, it all turned sticky and sweaty. I hated it to wear my heavy riding jacket. The riding pants start to feel like as an endless punishment and I decided to relieve my agony by searching for a good enough beach for indulgence.
Sandy beaches are plenty here. But the problem was southwest coast of Costa Rica belongs to a national park. Hence it wasn’t possible to ride on to the beach and stay on it apart from the regulated visiting hours. So I kept up with my riding southwards. After many kilometers, I spotted a green painted sign which read “playa”. Until that point, all the signposts were brown, which meant that it is a part of the national park. So I started to ride towards the beach. My first impression of the dirt road, which lead to the beach, was a positive one. But it changed after a few hundred meters. Soon the road turned into an irrigation canal but I kept on riding through deep trenches like waterholes, slipping and sliding. When I reached the beach, it turned out to be a great one.
This beach is called Playa Tortuga. Though it’s scarcely visited, its picturesque setting offers a unique playground to those who make the effort to ride the muddy road. This beach seems to be a perfect place to recover from the last few days of hard riding.
Without much time wasting, I rode straight on to the sand and continued about a hundred meters to the south where the sandbank seem to be high enough to keep the water reaching the tent at high tide. The water seems to be calm and shallow but it’s very inviting. The land at the edge of the beach is densely grown with high trees and all kinds of plants. Among them are coconuts palms, cashew trees, a few mangroves and even some mango trees. To the north of the beach, there flows a stream into the ocean. The water seems to be clean and without discolouration. “I have found the perfect spot” I tell myself and start unloading the bike and unpack the panniers. First go for a swim and then wash myself in the stream with freshwater and then cook a nice stew with the fresh vegetables I had bought from the farm up in the mountain. I’m feeling great! Feel almost like Robinson Crusoe on this lonely beach…

Dear Cousteau,

True adventure begins when your resources start drying out! Your generosity will carry me a few more kilometers and a few more encounters with the world. Thanks again my friend! Hope your preparations go well and that you'll have a good start to your trip!

Same here - I'm chipping in, too.

Bonne Route, Dylan!

They flew in a single line, gliding not more than two or three inches above the water and as the speed decreased they elevated the flight to couple of feet above sea level and started flapping their wings to gain speed. Then they descended back closer to water and started to glide once again. It looked almost like a roller coaster ride with every bird following the one in front. When they discovered a school of fish, it was the party time. They all started crashing into the water...

Hi Missadventure,

Socrates once said, "necessity is the mother of invention". I'm sure you will be capable of doing such things too, specially when you're short of cash for original spare parts

Now that my bike's getting old, I'm sure you'll see more of these photos soon!

I haven't read that ride report. But the story is true I'm not sure if I'm brave or not. But I'm crazy enough to experience some adventures. You're right. I should start writing about my past adventures and post some photos of it. The problem is, I got too many of them and I don't know where to start

***How Big Is Your World***

After a hard day of riding through the west coast of Australia I needed to find a secure place to camp on that night. I examined couple of spots along the way which I thought would suit my purpose, but I found them unsuitable for comfort's sake and pressed on to find the perfect place. Though the road ran parallel to the coast line and there were plenty of nice beaches, the signs “No Camping on the beach” at regular intervals, held me back from riding towards the beach. But after careful observation I found a road leading to the beach with no camping restrictions. But the road was barricaded with massive big rocks and tons of earth spread across it. But since there was no sign, I rode through the bush-land and through the soft sand towards the beach. It was quite an undertaking but I was able to ride right up onto the beach that evening and camp with the marvellous view of the sunset.
Next morning, after a good breakfast, I packed up and started moving through the rough terrain. When I was about 10 meters short of reaching the main road, I saw a motorcyclist whizzing pass but then I heard his brakes. He did a U turn and came back to where I was. From his vehicle number plates I gathered that he was a German biker and I was quite thrilled to meet another biker in the middle of nowhere in the Australian outback. I parked my bike and walked up to him and introduced myself.

“Hi, I'm Dylan “.

The biker smiled and replied, “yes, I know”. His answer took me by surprise. “Eh? How do you know me?” I asked him. “We are Facebook friends!” was his answer!
We spent a good hour chatting and sharing our travel experiences before we said goodbye.
The world is a small place indeed!

Attila, Jeremy and Robert entering Alaska through the Top of The World highway.


***** Bombs and canned food *******


Towards the end of their vacation, Attila and Jeremy were racing through to see the rest of Alaska and to catch up with Robert who broke away from the group on the Dalton highway because he did not want to travel to Prudoe Bay . I had travelled with them from Dawson City in Canada through Pruhoe Bay to Denali and as the final destination, travelling together as a group, we arrived in some place close to Denali national park. But the national park wasn't of any interest to our hardcore motorbike racers who are on vacation for a couple of weeks. The action on the road was plenty enough for them and the time was running out. Since I wanted to visit Chris's “Into the wild Bus” which was close to Denali national park, I planned to stay with Attila and Jeremy one last night camping in the bush and say goodbye to them the next morning. Up until I had met them, the trio, had no wild camping experiences whatsoever. But in a few days of travelling with me, they had learned to be confident camping in the wild in bear country. But they were still quite afraid of possible bear visits.
There are a few things you have to observe if you want to keep bears away from the camp. Bears are curious animals. The sense of smell is their biggest aid to find food. So, if you wish to keep bears away from your tent, the best thing to do is to keep away food from the camp or secure them in a metal box or hang the food on a tree and of course you have to be careful not to drop around or take food into your tents!

Just before we turned off to Denali highway, which is one of the picturesque gravel roads of Alaska, Attila and Jeremy had dinner in a restaurant while I did some shopping to prepare my food at the camp to save money. After the dinner Attila led the group to find a suitable spot to camp and we rode along Denali highway about four kilometres and found a spacious gravel area and started setting up tents. Mt McKinley rose towards the sky behind us, majestically. The open fields and the violet Alaskan sky made the evening look as if we were living in a picture book. Though it was very late, I was thinking of making a fire and spend the eve socializing with my pals.
But unfortunately, Jeremy complained that he had a headache and crept into his tent. Attila followed him and I ended up starting to cook my dinner outside on my own. Since it was late, I had no desire to make an elaborate dinner plans. So I lit up the stove and placed a ready made can of stew on it, something I've done it a few times in the past. While the stew being warmed up I enjoyed the scenery and took a couple of photos. When the stew was warm enough, I took it off the stove. The tin can was equipped with a ring pull for easy opening. As I lifted the ring to open the can, there was an explosion! When the air was cleared, I noticed that there was no sign of the lid. I peeked into the can I found nothing in it! Instead, there was food sprayed across the whole camp. Attila stuck his head out of his tent and was horrified of the sight. We both had concerned looks. His concern was about bears. I had given the bears an open invitation to a party! My concern was my dinner and I was quite sad that I had to go to bed hungry. I swear that I would have killed couple of bears for dinner that night, if only they came to our camp.
However, another lesson was learnt. Never heat up canned food without opening them first

Thanks rdwalker! Your contribution much appreciated! I read your RR to SA. Good stuff my friend. May be you have recommendations for me if I make it that far.

Panama: Very much a cowboy country.






I was on my way to catch the ferry to the island of Bocas del Torro. When I reached the small town of Chiriqui Grande, which looks as if time stood still for hundreds of years with half broken houses and unimpressive buildings, I went straight to the port. Half way to the port, the road was closed with a chain bound to two posts on either side on the road. Other traffic stood still and there seem to be a small crowed watching something. It's a wild west type fight taking place. Two men beating each other with their fists. They had covered their knuckles wrapped around with two small pieces of fabric torn out of T-shirts like material. The men were so exhausted and the punches they were throwing effected none of them. But with bloody and bruised faces they continued.... I don't know for how long. I had many questions. But the place seemed so dodgy, I felt I better disappear before they found an opponent to fight me.




I saw him from a long way away stretching his hand out with a plastic bag in one, and two mandarins in the other, while he balanced the umbrella on his shoulder to stay away from the scorching sun. The road was quite straight and I had enough speed as an excuse not to notice the little one. But a few hundred meters after passing him, I reluctantly applied my brakes and turned around.
His joy was quite noticeable by the way he threw his umbrella on the ground and ran towards me. I signed him that he shall hand me a mandarin and he gladly obeyed. I peeled it and gave him the first segment to eat. He obviously liked mandarin even though he was puzzled by my action. When I tasted a piece, it only made me shiver because it was too sour. But I wasn’t there to savour mandarins in the first place hence I wasn’t disappointed.
The boy looked a happy one though he didn’t seem to be enjoying all the modern wonders such as playstation or the latest battery operated toys. Instead, he had an awful haircut most probably got it from his mother and done with a machete. He walked barefoot, upper teeth were black and rotten, but he had the most wonderful smile.



You can see his moist eyes though he smiled for a photo. The reason for his tears was my request to get on the bike to pose for a photo, and that was too scary for the little one. But my friendship earned him a dollar and the plastic bag full of sour mandarins was left for another customer. However, this has been a very special experience. I saw a little Dylan, with rotten teeth and a bag of mandarins and an umbrella in the hand waiting on a deserted road for someone to come by.

Subscribed!

Dylan my respect....Your photos are awesome and your report style too!!

Keep up the good work!!

Wow very powerfull story and writing. I'm sure in! Now let us get some of your pics on the front page

Best of luck in your journey!