Two-Wheeled Urban Sur-(thrive)-al
It can be rough for a little motorcycle in the big city. It’s an asphalt jungle clogged full of homicidal taxi drivers, smart phone blinded pedestrians, smugly suicidal bicyclists, and terrified tourists.
It can be rough for a little motorcycle in the big city. It’s an asphalt jungle clogged full of homicidal taxi drivers, smart phone blinded pedestrians, smugly suicidal bicyclists, and terrified tourists.
Back on the road, we were able to take advantage of the newly completed Ruta del Sol on the way to Bogota. It was nice to able to actually ride at highway speeds for much of the time again, something we haven’t been able to do much of since arriving in Colombia due to heavy traffic.
This story is more ‘On Any Sunday’ than the tale that Jack London told, but it’s still a solid reminder to be prepared.
On our way to Bogota, we had probably our strangest tourist experience so far in the trip. A little bit West of Puerto Triumpho, way off the road in the hills, is Pablo Escobar’s old estate Hacienda Napoles.
I had played with GPS units, but still relied on the old and familiar analog way. A couple of years back I finally took the plunge and got set-up with a Garmin Montana.
Just about every owners manual and service manual will proclaim that the drive chain should be cleaned, lubed, and adjusted every 500 miles, or something to that effect.
Our next blog post may very well be titled “Why We Never Left Colombia.” So far, we like just about everything about this country, and we’re not even half way through it.
It is easy to just bring the motorcycle to a shop to replace your old tires but you would then be missing out on a great opportunity to pull out your tool kit, and practice a skill that at some point.
We thought we had missed the rainy season in Central America, but we were wrong.
Working on your own equipment is a great way to save a few bucks and better learn your machine for when something goes wrong on the trail.