Anecdotes From the Saddle: A Rider's Anthology

After years of anticipation and determined preparation, we pocketed the key to our empty D.C. apartment, tossed on our waterproof riding gear, and climbed on our motorcycles. I hit the start button and... click dead battery. Thus began our epic journey.

- By Scott Canto

For the previous three years, my partner Odessa and I had been saving, preparing, and ridding ourselves of possessions to set off on motorcycles. During that time, our KTMs had been stolen and (thankfully) recovered, and we'd spent many sleepless nights afterward wondering whether a thief would try again so concerned that we stepped up the departure date to the end of summer. Armed with dozens of possible routes, the plan was to head west-northwest with our dog Surak until we ran out of roads, then turn south for the lands of warm winters and cheaper living costs.

Life on motorcycles still has responsibilities-a different set than normal life, but we set off with a list of chores. We found a home for the last of our stuff we were keeping and ventured to South Dakota to establish residency. With no deadlines but autumn looming, we rode through the eastern U.S. and the midwest at a too-fast pace that we had to accept.

Not that there weren't fun moments-like clearing a trail in West Virginia, riding a creek in Kentucky, the wide-open skies and sprawling, fenceless fields-but truth be told, the riding between the Atlantic and South Dakota was mostly uneventful. We managed to avoid most interstates and found endless miles of gravel to explore, but unlike our first trip across the U.S. years ago, this one was defined by the folks we met along the way.

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