Mike's Travel Blog

Well, I haven't updated this is ages, have I? Let me summarize it in a few short paragraphs. From Perth, Australia I went north a few hundred kilometers to Dongara. I don't remember this place at all really. But I remember the next few days.

I moved north to Kalbarri on the coast and attended a kite surfingf competition. That night I randomly met up with two Dutch dudes who were taking their truck around Oz. We gate crashed the kite surfing party and after-party, then camped out with other travelers and created our own party with pirated booz from the previous parties. We got in trouble with the police. Actually what they said was, ‘If there were any police around...

In the morning, after I had my revenge against the annoying teenage kids by stealing their shoelaces and locking them inside their tent while they were still passed out, I rode down to the ferry. The next service across the Spencer Gulf to Cowell left in just a few minutes so I quickly purchased my ticket and hopped on board.

The ferry was large but nowhere near the size of the one that took me to Tasmania from Melbourne. There were several other motorcycles on the parking deck, mostly Harley, and many cars. The passenger deck was more like a café and had large windows for a brilliant view of the water. I sat down at a table, ordered a couple cappuccinos' and...

Australia is a larger country than most people realize. I considered it would take at most just three days to reach Perth, riding from nine in the morning to seven in the evening with stops for breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee breaks and petrol.

The first day of riding, on January 21st, I had driven the tourist infested Great Ocean Road, averaging the speed of forty miles per hour. Looking at the map was a bit disheartening. I had made it just one-eighth of the way to Perth. From Melbourne to Mt Gambier it was 280 miles. I still had 1950 miles to go.

I had wanted to make it to Perth for Australia Day on January 26th, equivalent to the American Independence Day, so I...

Because of his bruised and broken ribs from his motorcycle crash, Wayne stayed behind in St. Helens as Bob and I went out riding the beautiful Tasmanian roads for a day trip. The roads were a wonderful and dangerous thing. The lanes were thin, almost like a path, with no shoulder, several switchbacks and stray gravel on all the corners. Once in a while we'd pass a car, but seemingly only when we didn't expect it. I took the lead for the start and pushed as fast as I could go through the tight turns.

There was very little traffic and I took the liberty to use both lanes. I came around a corner at full speed to see a car coming directly at me. I brushed past it on the...

In the couple months after dropping off my motorcycle in Long Beach to be shipped to Melbourne, Australia I mostly spent my time in my favorite country, Colombia. Half my time was spent in the major cities like Bogota and Medellin and the rest was spent in a very small Caribbean beach town known as Taganga. In all of these places I visited in Colombia I managed to get myself into trouble, in one form or another.

So, for the sake of governed normalcy and the anti-anarchism that is my readership I'll simply report on travel related happenings, although I cannot completely guarantee the respectability of all the material.

Towards the end of December I returned...