Sheep skin raft to cross the Yellow River in China.
We had 4 heavy people on the raft and it carried us accross the river without problems. Simple but very effective river crossing.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Unit of Time
Unit of Time
One gets some crazy ideas when on the road. The brain does something unique and sometimes these ideas or thoughts get stuck in the brain and like a broken record play over and over. Some songs are like that, too or simple tunes that are stuck in my head and I hum the same melody over and over and can not get rid of it. I caught myself humming Bach’s cantatas over and over; the little Fugue over and over. Even to the point that I was annoyed at myself but could not stop it. Riding along the road there is was, in my head and I was humming it and it created a mixed feeling of road, weather, noise and thought. Was that me? Was I the music, the noise, the road, the song in my head?
I remember vividly the ride along the panhandle of Oklahoma. The road is very flat, devoid of any features. No tree, no hill, no focus but the road I rode on. I was going about 75 miles an hour, the wind in my face and the drone of the motor in my ears. The little fugue stuck in my mind, over and over. Then… like a brain flash and for a moment I did not know if I was riding or if the road was sliding under me. I was stuck in time. Yes, I could hear, see, smell but so what? Nothing changed. I was sitting on a droning beast going to? Nothing changed! It was the same landscape no matter the speed. Time was sliding by UNDER me. I was not there, or I was there but the world around me was passing by. It is hard to put into words, this feeling of being in one place but not being with reality the way I thought about it before that point. Like I said, this feeling did not last long; it was a mere minute maybe. I can look back and remember it but I can not recreate it. I tried a few times, when on a trip, to recreate this feeling but it never happened since. What does happen to my head is that since that moment I sometimes dream about time. Yes, Time!
I ask myself what time is. What is a unit of time?
I can not find the answer. In my head I put myself in situations like a dark cave without any light at all. How would I know what time it is?
If I lived in this cave without light and could see nothing and talk to nobody and just existed what would time mean to me? Would I measure time by the growth of my hair? What would the unit of time be?
Would I measure time in between meals? What meals? If nobody is around me and feeds me, how would I live? I imagine that I would not need anything like food, drink or that my body would not age or is in need of anything. I am just there! How would I measure time?
I can not see anything except that I exist. I KNOW I exist, so what time is it? What is a Unit of Time?
I hear people say, that time flies! They mean it flows like a rapid river and nobody can stop it. Is this true? Can Time not be stopped? I know about the ideas of Einstein that time can be slowed down, but can it be stopped? Can the river of time be dammed? Like wind that blows, can it be stopped? If it can be stopped, what will happen? Is there an ANTI time?
Those are things that pop into my head and just like the song that is stuck in my head when I ride, Time is stuck in my head when I sleep.
What is a unit of time?
I can tell myself not to think about it but…..it pops into my head when I least expected.
Just like the stuff that seems to be stuck in my head when I ride and the strange experiences I have when I sit on my bike Time is with me.
I know of people that create math problems for themselves when they ride their bike. They just HAVE to solve them!
I wish I could solve what a unit of time is. I am stuck, it’s in my head and I can not get rid of it. It follows me in my dreams.
So, if you KNOW the answer, just tell me, it will help me out.
What is a unit of time?
One gets some crazy ideas when on the road. The brain does something unique and sometimes these ideas or thoughts get stuck in the brain and like a broken record play over and over. Some songs are like that, too or simple tunes that are stuck in my head and I hum the same melody over and over and can not get rid of it. I caught myself humming Bach’s cantatas over and over; the little Fugue over and over. Even to the point that I was annoyed at myself but could not stop it. Riding along the road there is was, in my head and I was humming it and it created a mixed feeling of road, weather, noise and thought. Was that me? Was I the music, the noise, the road, the song in my head?
I remember vividly the ride along the panhandle of Oklahoma. The road is very flat, devoid of any features. No tree, no hill, no focus but the road I rode on. I was going about 75 miles an hour, the wind in my face and the drone of the motor in my ears. The little fugue stuck in my mind, over and over. Then… like a brain flash and for a moment I did not know if I was riding or if the road was sliding under me. I was stuck in time. Yes, I could hear, see, smell but so what? Nothing changed. I was sitting on a droning beast going to? Nothing changed! It was the same landscape no matter the speed. Time was sliding by UNDER me. I was not there, or I was there but the world around me was passing by. It is hard to put into words, this feeling of being in one place but not being with reality the way I thought about it before that point. Like I said, this feeling did not last long; it was a mere minute maybe. I can look back and remember it but I can not recreate it. I tried a few times, when on a trip, to recreate this feeling but it never happened since. What does happen to my head is that since that moment I sometimes dream about time. Yes, Time!
I ask myself what time is. What is a unit of time?
I can not find the answer. In my head I put myself in situations like a dark cave without any light at all. How would I know what time it is?
If I lived in this cave without light and could see nothing and talk to nobody and just existed what would time mean to me? Would I measure time by the growth of my hair? What would the unit of time be?
Would I measure time in between meals? What meals? If nobody is around me and feeds me, how would I live? I imagine that I would not need anything like food, drink or that my body would not age or is in need of anything. I am just there! How would I measure time?
I can not see anything except that I exist. I KNOW I exist, so what time is it? What is a Unit of Time?
I hear people say, that time flies! They mean it flows like a rapid river and nobody can stop it. Is this true? Can Time not be stopped? I know about the ideas of Einstein that time can be slowed down, but can it be stopped? Can the river of time be dammed? Like wind that blows, can it be stopped? If it can be stopped, what will happen? Is there an ANTI time?
Those are things that pop into my head and just like the song that is stuck in my head when I ride, Time is stuck in my head when I sleep.
What is a unit of time?
I can tell myself not to think about it but…..it pops into my head when I least expected.
Just like the stuff that seems to be stuck in my head when I ride and the strange experiences I have when I sit on my bike Time is with me.
I know of people that create math problems for themselves when they ride their bike. They just HAVE to solve them!
I wish I could solve what a unit of time is. I am stuck, it’s in my head and I can not get rid of it. It follows me in my dreams.
So, if you KNOW the answer, just tell me, it will help me out.
What is a unit of time?
Sunday, December 11, 2005
A new life behind the curtain.
It’s reflective time now that winter has settled in and snow covers the ground. My bikes are waiting for clear roads without ice and danger.
If I had a smaller bike and the right tires I might dare to venture out despite the frost on the pumpkins. The way it stands, however, the LT with 850 Lbs is too heavy to hold up and actually dangerous to ride with the slick highway tires I have. There is nothing to do but wait for spring or some dry cold days with clear roads. Like I said, it’s reflective time.
On one of those sudden insight flashes I now know what has been bugging me for some time. I could not put a name to it but now I can.
For weeks, even months, I have watched people around me pursue their dreams as usual.
I watch when they buy a new car without getting excited about their new car.
I learn they have changed housing without being impressed with the new house they have bought.
A new camera does nothing to me.
I am not impressed with their ‘impressive’ different job.
Things bought by anybody are just those…things! A job is just a job and provides. Their life is ‘theirs’ to do as they please. I let them do their thing, buy what they want to buy and mainly watch what they do.
I am not impressed anymore.
The consumerism in America leaves me cold and unemotional. Ads still bombard me with what I should buy and what I should have in order to be ‘with it’ or ‘hip’. Yet, they have lost some of their impact.
I am not the man I used to be. Am I getting smarter?
Or have I, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, finally looked behind the curtain?
Remember how impressed she was when she finally came to Oz? She was even scared by the huge image of the almighty wizard. She just had to learn that behind the curtain is a guy pushing handles and pulling rods and pretending to be ‘all’ powerful and magical.
Well, I have found lately that those Oz wizards are all over the place. They are in stores and on advertisements and they want us to buy, buy. They want us to believe that they are all knowing and powerful.
Not only is that true with business but also when I ride my motorcycle.
I do not have to have the latest model in order to enjoy a good day’s ride.
I do not have to believe all the magazine stories about good trips.
I do not have to keep up with the good riders in front of me and then ‘over-ride’ my abilities.
I do not even have to travel to exotic places in order to ride my bike.
I also do not have to buy people Christmas presents, or even send those X-mas cards.
I am not saying humbug, because I like the traditions, but I do not HAVE to do anything just because someone pulls a lever or wants me to believe his or her way; or buy this or that.
I have a house, thank you. I do not need a better one.
I have a few motorcycles; I do not have to get the latest, newest or even biggest. I am fine with what I have.
I guess that once you look behind the curtain, once you get over the shock that there are people pulling the strings so that you ‘believe’. Once you understand that they are no wizards… you might even become content.
If I had a smaller bike and the right tires I might dare to venture out despite the frost on the pumpkins. The way it stands, however, the LT with 850 Lbs is too heavy to hold up and actually dangerous to ride with the slick highway tires I have. There is nothing to do but wait for spring or some dry cold days with clear roads. Like I said, it’s reflective time.
On one of those sudden insight flashes I now know what has been bugging me for some time. I could not put a name to it but now I can.
For weeks, even months, I have watched people around me pursue their dreams as usual.
I watch when they buy a new car without getting excited about their new car.
I learn they have changed housing without being impressed with the new house they have bought.
A new camera does nothing to me.
I am not impressed with their ‘impressive’ different job.
Things bought by anybody are just those…things! A job is just a job and provides. Their life is ‘theirs’ to do as they please. I let them do their thing, buy what they want to buy and mainly watch what they do.
I am not impressed anymore.
The consumerism in America leaves me cold and unemotional. Ads still bombard me with what I should buy and what I should have in order to be ‘with it’ or ‘hip’. Yet, they have lost some of their impact.
I am not the man I used to be. Am I getting smarter?
Or have I, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, finally looked behind the curtain?
Remember how impressed she was when she finally came to Oz? She was even scared by the huge image of the almighty wizard. She just had to learn that behind the curtain is a guy pushing handles and pulling rods and pretending to be ‘all’ powerful and magical.
Well, I have found lately that those Oz wizards are all over the place. They are in stores and on advertisements and they want us to buy, buy. They want us to believe that they are all knowing and powerful.
Not only is that true with business but also when I ride my motorcycle.
I do not have to have the latest model in order to enjoy a good day’s ride.
I do not have to believe all the magazine stories about good trips.
I do not have to keep up with the good riders in front of me and then ‘over-ride’ my abilities.
I do not even have to travel to exotic places in order to ride my bike.
I also do not have to buy people Christmas presents, or even send those X-mas cards.
I am not saying humbug, because I like the traditions, but I do not HAVE to do anything just because someone pulls a lever or wants me to believe his or her way; or buy this or that.
I have a house, thank you. I do not need a better one.
I have a few motorcycles; I do not have to get the latest, newest or even biggest. I am fine with what I have.
I guess that once you look behind the curtain, once you get over the shock that there are people pulling the strings so that you ‘believe’. Once you understand that they are no wizards… you might even become content.
Friday, December 02, 2005
The deadliest place on earth - Taklamakan -
<-- The last oasis before Takla Makan 
Swaying thru the desert
Sunday, November 27, 2005
The King of Samarkand
Actual Kings, years ago, where young like this.
This is, could be, a picture from a Millenium ago.
What would you change ?
The colors ?
The People ?
The same bread is still baked today. The girls are still this pretty. Even the woman in the background still looks this old today. This is the Silk Road.
Choose your Bliss - Alma Ata
It is said that everybody who will come and put their hand into the book will be saved.
The ones that do this will be blessed with eternal bliss.
Unfortunately you have to go to Alma Ata to find the book.
Alma means 'Apple'
Ata means 'Place'
No, eating Apples will not be a substitute.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Plenty of food to be had in Central Asia
Plenty of food
Fresh Food
Everybody makes a living
An assortment of basics
Dried nuts and fruits
Imagine all the tiles on just this ONE building
Just imagine how much work it took, all done by hand, to build this complex. Tiles everywhere!
Can you imagine how much time, effort, labor and money it took to build this ?
Nothing of today compares to it....... believe me !
Tile work
Imagine all the work involved in creating just this small patch of tiles.
Forming the tiles
Burning them
Applying colors.
Burning them again.
then filing down the edges
finally installing them on buildings.
HUGE buildings,
All done by hand....... a 1000 years ago !
The old phone system works in most of the former Soviet blocks. Not too well but it works.
To make a phone call means you have to be lucky.
The connection depends on this guy, if he does something wrong or has had a bad day, then....... the phone will NOT work.
Blame Him !
( I tell my my wife it's his fault that the phone did not work )
That way it's ok if I don't call home.
on to Bukhara, Uzbekistan
All day nothing but sand and trouble.
This was when the machine ran. Not for long, mind you, but I made about 100 Miles before the bike gave up it's ghost.
Break down on side of road, Uzbekistan
Trouble with a borrowed bike.
What do you do when you are on the side of the road with a bike you don't know ?
This old 350 Jawa, two stroke bike, was overhauled but still did not run.
I tried and tried, but it seized all the time, ran on one cylinder and finally died.
Only remedy was to wait until it cooled down to start it again.
Khan hats in Xiva (Karacul )
Even so it is hot in the desert the native population believed that wearing a hat keeps the body cooler.
These hats are made out of lamb fur.
The fur is taken from 'unborn' lambs to keep the curls very tight.
Yes, they slaughter the mother, then take the baby lamb. (Naturally, they eat everything they slaughter, too)
Notice: I did NOT buy a hat.
These hats are made out of lamb fur.
The fur is taken from 'unborn' lambs to keep the curls very tight.
Yes, they slaughter the mother, then take the baby lamb. (Naturally, they eat everything they slaughter, too)
Notice: I did NOT buy a hat.
Xiva, Uzbekistan
Overlooking Xiva, Uzbekistan.
The last strong hold of the Khan.
This was an empire that was ruled by tribal kings until 1924 when it was taken over by the Soviets.
It is still, very much, an oasis in the desert.
About 100 Miles Sout East of the Aral Sea.
The name, Xiva, means "Sweet Water" in the local dialect.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Let the play begin
6.30 am and the sun shines brightly on my face. Frost covers the roof of my car and since the heat is turned off in our house the air is still chilly. It is hard to leave the warmth of the bed but after 8 hours of sleep Mother Nature calls from the bathroom. My world around me is still asleep. Today, unusual for me, I brew coffee and while it perks I check my e-mail. No news from GlobeRiders, all seems well and I should rest easy. I still have no Visa from Turkmenistan; still have no news about how I will go from Azerbaijan to Uzbekistan. I am still in limbo. I feel anxiety in the morning?
I did all I could to pack and re-pack, I thought about it for days now and I am ready to go.
Off to the shower and while the weather is that nice I might as well practice some riding in the local Nature Preserve. Wow, did I get fat! Looking into the mirror I do not really like what I see. The good life has taking hold of me. Social affairs, family functions and plain good living gave me quit a chunk of blubber.
It is time I start riding and shake off some pounds. I feel a bit nervous about riding. It’s the fear of the unknown. The reports I read about narrow minded, religious zealots, about thieves, about a so different culture creates uneasiness inside of me.
Am I smart enough to stay out of trouble? Am I savvy enough to blend in without being noticed too much? I hear the famous saying ‘you have nothing to fear but fear itself ‘inside of my head and while I can not help my feelings and still feel the anxieties I will go and I am ready. It is comparable to ‘stage fright’ before the curtain rises. All the lines are in my head, all the preparations are done. My dialog with myself seems to be on overdrive. It is really time to start. Enough of the preparation, enough of the thinking of ‘if’ and ‘when’ and ‘could’.
I am glad I have some experiences to fall back on, I am glad I know myself that much that I believe I will survive. This is not getting ready for battle; this is supposed to be an enjoyable ‘vacation’ trip. Remember, I am staying in Hotels. Not in my tent.
(Why does that bother me?). Fear of the unknown?
My mind seems to ramble without really being focused. What if I forgot something? Did I buy the right boots? How can I overcome the broken computer? Why did I eat that cookie?
I am ready, let the show get on the road.
I did all I could to pack and re-pack, I thought about it for days now and I am ready to go.
Off to the shower and while the weather is that nice I might as well practice some riding in the local Nature Preserve. Wow, did I get fat! Looking into the mirror I do not really like what I see. The good life has taking hold of me. Social affairs, family functions and plain good living gave me quit a chunk of blubber.
It is time I start riding and shake off some pounds. I feel a bit nervous about riding. It’s the fear of the unknown. The reports I read about narrow minded, religious zealots, about thieves, about a so different culture creates uneasiness inside of me.
Am I smart enough to stay out of trouble? Am I savvy enough to blend in without being noticed too much? I hear the famous saying ‘you have nothing to fear but fear itself ‘inside of my head and while I can not help my feelings and still feel the anxieties I will go and I am ready. It is comparable to ‘stage fright’ before the curtain rises. All the lines are in my head, all the preparations are done. My dialog with myself seems to be on overdrive. It is really time to start. Enough of the preparation, enough of the thinking of ‘if’ and ‘when’ and ‘could’.
I am glad I have some experiences to fall back on, I am glad I know myself that much that I believe I will survive. This is not getting ready for battle; this is supposed to be an enjoyable ‘vacation’ trip. Remember, I am staying in Hotels. Not in my tent.
(Why does that bother me?). Fear of the unknown?
My mind seems to ramble without really being focused. What if I forgot something? Did I buy the right boots? How can I overcome the broken computer? Why did I eat that cookie?
I am ready, let the show get on the road.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Silk Connections
The town of Krefeld in North Western Germany is known as the Silk City of Germany. For people trying to find it on the map, it’s left of Düsseldorf, North of Cologne. Silk was introduced to Krefeld by French Huguenots who looked for protection from persecutions during the 30 Year War (1618-1648), which devastated Europe. Krefeld was always a very liberal town and a good place to grow up. My family history, I have birth certificates, baptismal records, marriage licenses, etc, show us being in the weaving business for generations, always in or around Krefeld. As far back as 1724 for sure. Silk seems to be a driving force in our and my life.
I always knew about warp and weft, I always knew about how to dye yarns, how to weave, etc. Our local dialect has many words that are weaving terms, which we use daily without even thinking about that the origin or the word is a very technical Textile term. In addition, our dialect is full of French words, too.
So, Silk, French, Textile is part of me.
I even came to the U.S. in 1968 because I had this connection with Silk. I had learned to program weaving machines (yes, a French system called Verdol) and the U.S. imported me as a ‘technical expert‘. So from 1968 until 1970 I taught the little bit I knew to some folks in Paterson, NJ.
I combined my teaching with learning the English language which enabled me to meet my wife which changed everything.
Women can do that to you, you know!
After we married in 1971, had 3 children, each 16 month apart, and no money to speak off I had to make some changes in my teaching schedule.
For the next 10 years I helped a U.S. Silk Weaving mill to get off the ground using my programming skills and thru French connections I learned how to ‘design’ fabrics. This job provided a fair income and was close to home. I had time for the kids, could talk and listen to my wife. I was not the most important person in this mill but it made a living and I honed the designing skills I needed.
In 1982 all that changed. Or let’s say it bloomed. Somehow, by pure accident, I took a job in Manhattan, and within 7 years I took over this business. Yes, I was in the Silk Business. Silk for neckties! Silk from China, everything I did for years was based on Silk.
My life seems to revolve around Silk.
While designing for people like Ralph Lauren, Kenneth Cole, Armani, Tommy Hilfinger, Donna Karen, Bill Blass etc, I was busy and had no time to ride a motorcycle.
In Germany, as an apprentice I rode a moped to and from work. As a very little kid I rode on the back of my uncle’s bike and I always loved the fresh air, the freedom of being on a metal horse.
Now, in 2005, comes along the possibility to ride a motorcycle on the Silk Road.
How could I refuse? How can I not take this trip?
Sure I like Helge, sure I like riding my motorcycle, sure I have been to China many times but I have never ridden the road to China to buy silk. This is a must trip for me given all the history of my life.
I just wish I can get the visa for Turkmenistan.
I always knew about warp and weft, I always knew about how to dye yarns, how to weave, etc. Our local dialect has many words that are weaving terms, which we use daily without even thinking about that the origin or the word is a very technical Textile term. In addition, our dialect is full of French words, too.
So, Silk, French, Textile is part of me.
I even came to the U.S. in 1968 because I had this connection with Silk. I had learned to program weaving machines (yes, a French system called Verdol) and the U.S. imported me as a ‘technical expert‘. So from 1968 until 1970 I taught the little bit I knew to some folks in Paterson, NJ.
I combined my teaching with learning the English language which enabled me to meet my wife which changed everything.
Women can do that to you, you know!
After we married in 1971, had 3 children, each 16 month apart, and no money to speak off I had to make some changes in my teaching schedule.
For the next 10 years I helped a U.S. Silk Weaving mill to get off the ground using my programming skills and thru French connections I learned how to ‘design’ fabrics. This job provided a fair income and was close to home. I had time for the kids, could talk and listen to my wife. I was not the most important person in this mill but it made a living and I honed the designing skills I needed.
In 1982 all that changed. Or let’s say it bloomed. Somehow, by pure accident, I took a job in Manhattan, and within 7 years I took over this business. Yes, I was in the Silk Business. Silk for neckties! Silk from China, everything I did for years was based on Silk.
My life seems to revolve around Silk.
While designing for people like Ralph Lauren, Kenneth Cole, Armani, Tommy Hilfinger, Donna Karen, Bill Blass etc, I was busy and had no time to ride a motorcycle.
In Germany, as an apprentice I rode a moped to and from work. As a very little kid I rode on the back of my uncle’s bike and I always loved the fresh air, the freedom of being on a metal horse.
Now, in 2005, comes along the possibility to ride a motorcycle on the Silk Road.
How could I refuse? How can I not take this trip?
Sure I like Helge, sure I like riding my motorcycle, sure I have been to China many times but I have never ridden the road to China to buy silk. This is a must trip for me given all the history of my life.
I just wish I can get the visa for Turkmenistan.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Preperations for the Silk Road Trip 2005
Again I am going on an extended trip. Most of the time I travel alone, just my bike, tent and lot’s of cash.
This Silk Road Trip will be a trip with luxury since we are staying in Hotels. I don’t have to worry about food since we get at least breakfast each day. Most of the time even dinner. Besides that I have a huge layer of fat saved around my midriff so I will be ok for weeks to come.
From experience I will prep my ‘new’ bike the way I like it. For this trip I bought a used BMW 2002 GSA bike and it needs tweaking. I like wide foot pegs, just in case I have to stand on the bike for some hours. I like a louder horn; the factory installed horn is not loud enough. The previous owner had a special seat installed. I am not sure if I will like this seat, I might have to put the stock seat back since from experience I like that seat. Since I am using a different GPS then the previous owner I will need a new holder.
I will install improved Ohlins shocks set at 250 KG and hope that this is now the right setting. (I blew one set of rear shocks rated at 200 KG in Siberia). I will also remove the KAT just in case the gasoline we will find along the road is inferior. I believe I have to install Head Light Covers, Sump Guard, Oil Cooler guard, etc. Small things that could lead to real trouble along the way and preventions are better then repair.
I have discussions with myself as to what spare parts to bring. When I was in Daytona this early March I asked all the Adventure riders there as to what could possibly break or go wrong on a BWM GSA such as mine. I broke down with a real wheel bearing failure near Daytona Beach and had lots of time to talk to folks. Not that I panicked but why not ask others and rely on their experiences. I sure learned a lot from Mike Paull and Helge Pedersen during our last trip but others have other experiences, too. Besides the usual stuff like fuses, tire repair kits and spare tire tubes I will take along some ball bearings that will be hard to get in Uzbekistan. In addition I will carry small parts like “O” rings, clips, timing belt and spokes. I know for sure that if I take them I will not use them. I believe it’s called Murphy’s Law. The stuff you have is not what you need; it’s the other stuff that will break. My discussions with myself continue daily, Helge taught me not to over pack and I am working on finding the perfect balance of what to bring and what to leave behind.
Clothing is simple, bring just a few things. I usually think of the # 3. Take three shirts, three pants, three pairs of socks and so on. One set to wear, one to clean and one as spare. I will not be a fashion plate. Ralph Lauren will have to look away when he sees me.
If I forget misc. stuff, sunglasses, cameras, straps and so on I can over come. Still I am thinking, thinking, thinking. Experience helps in this regard. We all have likes and dislikes, take gloves for example.
Many good gloves out there but I will stick to the BMW GS gloves, I like them the best and will carry a spare set, just in case I lose the ones I ride with.
Little things, small details, bolts, nuts, clips! Way too many to list but they could be important.
Above all for this trip and for any trip, short trip or long trip I must pack the right ATTITUDE.
The mental preparation is of the outmost importance.
Should I forget something, so be it. I need to adjust to the situation.
Should my bike fail I have to fix it.
Should I fall and get hurt, I need to heal and get over it.
Should anything happen on the way I need to carry a good ATTITUDE.
This is something that MUST be packed, must be in everybody’s luggage. The right attitude makes all the difference in the world. Panic is ok, but get over it and unpack the right attitude.
Get along with the folks you ride with. Look at the people you will meet and even if they are so different, give them respect and unpack some of your correct attitude.
Some call it respect for others but I call it more than that. My mind set must be set so that I look at others with an open mind and give them lee-way, give them room for their idiosyncrasies. It’s my ATTITUDE that will make all the difference for a good trip and I must not forget to pack that.
This Silk Road Trip will be a trip with luxury since we are staying in Hotels. I don’t have to worry about food since we get at least breakfast each day. Most of the time even dinner. Besides that I have a huge layer of fat saved around my midriff so I will be ok for weeks to come.
From experience I will prep my ‘new’ bike the way I like it. For this trip I bought a used BMW 2002 GSA bike and it needs tweaking. I like wide foot pegs, just in case I have to stand on the bike for some hours. I like a louder horn; the factory installed horn is not loud enough. The previous owner had a special seat installed. I am not sure if I will like this seat, I might have to put the stock seat back since from experience I like that seat. Since I am using a different GPS then the previous owner I will need a new holder.
I will install improved Ohlins shocks set at 250 KG and hope that this is now the right setting. (I blew one set of rear shocks rated at 200 KG in Siberia). I will also remove the KAT just in case the gasoline we will find along the road is inferior. I believe I have to install Head Light Covers, Sump Guard, Oil Cooler guard, etc. Small things that could lead to real trouble along the way and preventions are better then repair.
I have discussions with myself as to what spare parts to bring. When I was in Daytona this early March I asked all the Adventure riders there as to what could possibly break or go wrong on a BWM GSA such as mine. I broke down with a real wheel bearing failure near Daytona Beach and had lots of time to talk to folks. Not that I panicked but why not ask others and rely on their experiences. I sure learned a lot from Mike Paull and Helge Pedersen during our last trip but others have other experiences, too. Besides the usual stuff like fuses, tire repair kits and spare tire tubes I will take along some ball bearings that will be hard to get in Uzbekistan. In addition I will carry small parts like “O” rings, clips, timing belt and spokes. I know for sure that if I take them I will not use them. I believe it’s called Murphy’s Law. The stuff you have is not what you need; it’s the other stuff that will break. My discussions with myself continue daily, Helge taught me not to over pack and I am working on finding the perfect balance of what to bring and what to leave behind.
Clothing is simple, bring just a few things. I usually think of the # 3. Take three shirts, three pants, three pairs of socks and so on. One set to wear, one to clean and one as spare. I will not be a fashion plate. Ralph Lauren will have to look away when he sees me.
If I forget misc. stuff, sunglasses, cameras, straps and so on I can over come. Still I am thinking, thinking, thinking. Experience helps in this regard. We all have likes and dislikes, take gloves for example.
Many good gloves out there but I will stick to the BMW GS gloves, I like them the best and will carry a spare set, just in case I lose the ones I ride with.
Little things, small details, bolts, nuts, clips! Way too many to list but they could be important.
Above all for this trip and for any trip, short trip or long trip I must pack the right ATTITUDE.
The mental preparation is of the outmost importance.
Should I forget something, so be it. I need to adjust to the situation.
Should my bike fail I have to fix it.
Should I fall and get hurt, I need to heal and get over it.
Should anything happen on the way I need to carry a good ATTITUDE.
This is something that MUST be packed, must be in everybody’s luggage. The right attitude makes all the difference in the world. Panic is ok, but get over it and unpack the right attitude.
Get along with the folks you ride with. Look at the people you will meet and even if they are so different, give them respect and unpack some of your correct attitude.
Some call it respect for others but I call it more than that. My mind set must be set so that I look at others with an open mind and give them lee-way, give them room for their idiosyncrasies. It’s my ATTITUDE that will make all the difference for a good trip and I must not forget to pack that.
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