In looking ahead to the trip--now just 7 months away--one of the realities that needs to be accounted for in planning is bike fuel. My Tiger gets approximately 225 miles to the tank, depending on the ride. That comes to about 13 fill-ups along the way. Since most of the trip will be on highway roads, I'm not too worried about running out of gas. And with the AAA membership, if the tank does hit the big "E," emergency service should be a phone call away.
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| I definitely do not have the rights to use this image. |
One of the accessories for sale on bike vendor websites is the extra fuel canister. They carry less than a-half a gallon of liquid and attached to side cases. They are also usually bright red.
As much as the idea of adding these to my bike seems like an awesome adventure bike add-on, they also seem unnecessary for this trip. If my goal was to explore the upper-reaches of Canada and take the Tiger into the wilds of BC, then sure, I definitely see the need.
Take, for instance, the author of this story. His trek and the one I took in August--from Seattle to Vancouver Island--started the same, but he and his pack dwarfed my little trip. For a trip like that, you definitely want back-up fuel supplies. When you're on a ride like that, civilization is in the rear-view mirror the whole way.
Which leads me to my next point: getting lost. A year ago, I rode from Seattle out to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and then on to Glacier National Park. Somewhere in Montana, I zigged when I should zagged, and found myself technically lost. I didn't know where to go, had no phone signal, and there were no road signs pointing me the way.
So I rode.
I consciously rode with no route in mind and no way to contact anybody for help. In the back of my mind, I knew that civilization would eventually pop up. Probably in the form of a small farming town with one or two gas stations. But for that one moment, time spun backwards to a point when adventure meant discovering something new, seeing places and people unknown, and really being in the moment.
I'm betting that the upcoming trip will have distractions; text messages from home, calls from the office, and worries about cellphone coverage. And with a route that's pretty direct, the chances of getting lost are slim. But if there's one thing that promises to suspend the structure of this trip, and really make it an adventure, it's the opportunity to get lost. I hope it happens.
As long as I have gas.
