Tubby Bottom, the notorious impassible Mississippi TAT road that has been the bane of end-to-end adventure enthusiasts since before I heard of the Trans-Am, is now passable … well, at least in the dry season.

I was jamming along rut-less and solid gravel farm roads on my way to Tubby, and was almost surprised by the first water crossing I came to just before Little Egypt Road. The hard-pack went soft-n-sandy pretty quickly and then splish-splash. The crossing was not even two-feet deep in th...
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I love how I start, or just am, drinking something special, or cheap, when I start writing. I began scribbling this in the midst of a micro-brewery flight at Vino’s Brewery in Little Rock, Arkansas; as I’m sure my rambling will illustrate. By the way, speaking of Arkansas, or more generally this region of the good ‘ol US of A, can someone tell me the age range one must appear to have entered in order to receive the “ma’am” title? “Yikes!” I say, which pretty much sums up the t...
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I arrived on a Sunday night and hid from the showers in a Tulsa Best Western for two nights, breaking my traveling streak of no hotels; can’t complain about the microwave and coffee maker though. By late morning on Tuesday, feeling a little boxed-in since my Monday spin through the recommended “center of action” in Tulsa … well, simply had none, I said, “Screw it,” in a more vulgar way, “I have rain gear!”

I rolled the highway north to Salina, Oklahoma through the drippity-drop...
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September 4, 2010

Three of my tail trunk bolts and one of the two mounting brackets had already fallen behind somewhere, so I was a little late for brunch with my lawyer friend Rebecca in Denver while I shuffled through Luke’s spares and locktited the nut-n-bolts back together. I gave her a call.

“I’m sorry I have a hangover,” was her initial reaction to my call, thinking that I was already in the area.

I explained that I was calling because I was late and she told me about a fabulous, c...
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It was a 7.5-hour iron butt ride from Moab to Boulder County in Colorado. So far I’ve almost doubled the 2,550 miles I bought the 2008 KLR with; mainly highway miles so far, since my trail mileage has been slow and sporadic. Although, my objective for jamming to Boulder is to rectify that situation by shipping the make-up and nail polish and linen pants, and extra weight etc. to the bride-to-be in Tennessee – and yes, eye-roll rebuttal, I know I should have shipped it before bothering to ...
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I slept in like crazy today, well 8:30 is sleeping in for me. I’m a light sleeper and wear earplugs, but am still usually and early riser; about 6.5 hours for me is well-rested. I didn’t even hear the Kawasaki cruiser couple who were just a tent site over pack-up and thump away. I felt good. I wasn’t late for anything and no one even knew where I was. It’s a freeing notion.

I rode from Green River to Moab on the Trans-Am today and the mellow dirt-way rebuilt my confidence about contin...
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I looked at my watch. It was 5:15 and I could see the sun starting to rise through my white tent wall, so I shut my eyes for a bit longer, but was jolted by the sound of an engine revving. I popped out from my tent, waived to the farmer whose tree I had found shelter under and said, “Sorry, I’ll be outta here in ten-minutes.”

“No problem he responded; seemingly relieved that I was either the less threatening female type or that I had just taken the time to waive and smile. Probably bot...
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August 24, 2010:

“I feel like I’m off-roading a Gold Wing,” I analogized.

“Well, you practically are,” laughed one of the Fishlake National Park, quad-riding fishermen.



I was up at 4:45 at the crack of dawn to escape my illegal campsite before being found out and charged; I’m on a shoestring here. I packed-up, dropped my white tent and said goodbye to the mystical red rock elephant as I left the Valley of Fire; so surreal and Dali-esque that you think he’s really saying adieu as y...
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