This story isn’t really about where it ends—
it’s about the road taken, the detours, the quiet moments in between.
They say the same thing about life itself.
So slow down.
Savor the ride.
Enjoy.
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The Journey, Not the Destination
January 13, 2026 – Somewhere on the road to adventure, Nogales, Arizona
They say life is about the journey, not the destination. The same holds true for any great ride.
There’s that precise moment when a routine ride quietly slips its leash and becomes something else entirely—an adventure.
Picture this: that exact moment you glance back and realize your grotesquely overloaded luggage has shifted just enough to drape itself lovingly over the tailpipe of your KTM 1290 like a cheap blanket on a hot stove.
The exhaust is already glowing with righteous fury after miles of hard running. Heat builds quietly, sneakily, the way only betrayal does. Then the first acrid whiff hits—burning nylon, melting straps, the unmistakable perfume of expensive regret. A thin ribbon of smoke curls up, innocent at first… until suddenly your DJI drone, your favorite rain gear, and a couple of truly irreplaceable mementos stage their own fiery Viking funeral in real time.
And let’s be honest: you weren’t exactly helping the situation by hammering along at 120+ mph, racing your buddy Todd like it was the last lap of the apocalypse.
Because nothing says “adventure bike” like turning your soft bags into sacrificial offerings to the gods of thermals and poor packing decisions.
That’s the ignition point.
From there the signs multiply like breadcrumbs leading deeper into the unknown: The border is long behind you now and we’re in San Carlos.
Real stories rarely start with fireworks.
They start with a small, stupid shift…
a puff of smoke…and the sudden, electric realization that you’re no longer just riding.
You’re out there.
And that’s exactly where the good stories begin.
The world feels a little warmer, a little more isolated, and that’s also when the magic begins.
These lines from Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes” have been looping in my head lately:
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of fears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can …..
It’s not about drama or danger on this stretch of Mexican highway—just the quiet accumulation of miles, the way each turn peels back yet another layer of the world.
I’ve wandered through enough of it now to feel the weight of those years, yet we’re still hungry to understand, still chasing our next horizon.
Just seven days ago, I was back home in Southern California, buzzing with that electric pre-ride energy—the kind that makes it feel like destiny.
It was the fourth day of the new year. Nana (my little woman) had just dropped the boys (grandkids) off after a day of pure joy—they’re her entire world, especially little Greyson.
She took them shopping earlier, and Greyson came home beaming with a massive Lego Star Wars set. His little brother? A dog frisbee. Classic sibling inequality—the poor little guy never catches a break! Our rider Brian on that KTM 1290 now reminds me of him.
Nana’s doing great (she sneezed mid-sentence—bless you!), and watching her light up around those little kids reminds me of how the simplest of moments can be our richest of moments.
My 2020BMW 1250 GSA ADV motorcycle that I am now riding has delivered more thrills than almost anything else in recent years.
I’m grateful for every mile traveled.
Right now, life feels incredibly good.
I spent the rest of the day prepping and packing for what’s ahead: a couple of days at my friend Dale’s place near Marana (Tucson area), then linking up with the group to cross into Mexico.
A quick aside: Todd texted wondering if the dramatic U.S. operation on January 3—Operation Absolute Resolve, the raid that captured Nicolás Maduro and his wife in Venezuela—might ripple into our Mexico plans.
From everything I’ve read and seen (news, updates, chatter), it’s a firm no. No disruptions for travelers down here so far. The border feels steady.
And then it seemed to happen again there we were enjoying nice pork tacos at porky‘s taco stand. I ordered the group cokes and three tacos apiece and they were so big the nearby dogs also ate several from Todd’s hands.
The world was wonderful again. But then something rather unusual happened to Dale’s brand new BMW GS1300.
It wouldn’t turn off or on. At some point he was able to get it started and it rapidly went into limp mode. Meaning no more than say 20 miles per hour. Several phone calls later to his local dealer back in Tucson and we were still left wondering what to do.
We were now hanging out near a store with the afternoon waning itself away deep into what others might refer to as Cartel lands. The first of several Mexicans approaches us, and one that previously lived in the states, he first attempted to contact a friend of his, a mechanic, but knowing that this motorcycle is all about electronics that would definitely not help us.
That’s when the Tow Truck option first entered the scene. On Google Maps we found a Bmw Motorrad dealership in Culiacan Mexico; if you don’t yet know where this place is, even the locals say it’s pretty dangerous there.
But that’s precisely where we’re headed as three Mike Todd myself on our motorcycles, followed by a blue Mexican pick up truck with Dale as a passenger and his motorcycle on the truck’s bed.
That’s my week in a snapshot. And it’s now only day two of our 2026 Mexico ride.
The road is calling, and I’m answering—one Mexican mile at a time.
Here’s to the journey, the quiet revelations, and the adventures still unfolding. Stay adventurous, friends. 🚀🌵🏍️
“Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of fears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can”
Trawlercat
Our first margaritas- day one is in the books
Trawlercat Chronicles 