Some adventures don’t have to be with the whole family, in fact these can often what gets you prepared for the family adventures. Solo motorcycle adventures allow you to explore your limits, get to know what makes you happy, allow for your thoughts to percolate in the cauldron of solitude, and occasionally scare the pants off you.
I like riding a motorcycle for many of the same reasons I enjoy hiking and camping. You experience the world more fully when you feel every moment of shade, hear the birds call, and can literally smell the roses as you pass. In some ways riding a motorcycle, at least a smaller bike, is a lot like driving a Westy too. You can go fast, or faster, but that’s not as much of the point as is the general utilitarian nature of the machines. You can carry your tent, your water, your rain gear, and still travel light and into places beyond the mainstream.
Exploring new areas, especially those off the beaten paths can be both exciting and potentially dangerous. A couple of summers ago I was riding deep in the George Washington National Forest on the boarder of Virginia and West Virginia and found myself off my intended route due to a closed forest road. The road led deeper into a beautiful valley and down some treacherously steep roads. Roads steep enough that you leave the bike in first and use only the rear brake to avoid going over, just hoping not to have to stop too suddenly. Naturally cell coverage was nonexistent, I’d thank AT&T here personally, but I doubt any cell phone works out there.
After getting to the bottom of what seemed to be more of a scree field than a road I had a semi-serious choice to make, a choice I should have made at the top: do I try to turn around and struggle up that hill, or continue on. Given the challenge of getting down, I considered that decision a fairly simple one: carry on my wayward son.
Mile after mile, and a few backtracks after aborted exit strategies I was beginning to think I’d be spending the evening in the forest, and that my wife would likely be calling the police to organize a search party soon. I finally decided to turn around and give my Mt. Everest a try. About 5 minutes later I met a hunter in a truck coming the other way. I flagged him down and asked if he was heading out and if he minded showing me the way. He nodded and I fell in line behind this local sportsman. Another 15 minutes of slow-going and we were out, 40 miles from where I planned to end, but on a road I knew. I headed home to a relieved family and a warm bed.
I made a few key errors in this trip which have informed my solo and family trips since then. 
- Carry tools. After my trip I noted that I had neither a spare, or more than a basic toolkit which could easily have left me stranded.
- Tell people exactly where you’re going and how long it should take. I hadn’t done this, and even if I had my plans changed mid trip. Future trips were logged on Glympse.
- Carry a detailed map of the area. Your phone’s GPS is not always going to work unless you download the map first. Also, you cannot ironically take a picture of your phone not loading a map with the same phone. It may give you a panicked giggle, but it’s not going to get you home.
- Carry water and a first aid kit. This one should be a no-brainer. Evidently I was a no-brainer too.
- Don’t go down/up/over/under anything that you won’t be able to go back up/down/under/over. Again, this sounds like simple and common sense advice, sometimes it’s hard to remember when you’re enjoying the day, the ride, and the sense of adventure.
All of these really basic adventuring to-dos aside, I got home safe, sound, and happy with my trip. So I guess the real moral is that while sometimes fortune favors the brave, it is the well-prepared for whom fortune need not lend a hand to. Hope and luck are not as good as planning and preparation.