A dirty little bike touring blog. Mostly about bikepacking and rigid single speeds. By Montana Miller
We just finished dinner at a little farm called the Cinnamon Eco Lodge, and the grandpa of the family just brought out his jungle pipe. As long as we've been here, I've been seeing guys sitting next to the road hitting these things- it's a bamboo bong, used to smoke Lao tobacco, which is very … Continue reading Ha Giang to Lao Cai
Close to the top of a giant climb, I see a pack of six little kids running down out of a steep field. Nothing unusual, kids are constantly running out to scream "Hello! Hello! What's your name!" I wave to these ones, and say hello, and keep moving up the steep hill. They're down to … Continue reading Vietnam: Cao Bang to Ha Giang
"Try, try it, this for you," says an old lady with a cone hat. She pushes a little donut into my hand before I know what's happening. Colleen and I were just walking down some busy side street in Hanoi, scooter horns and buzzy exhausts. "Oh, thank you," I say. I try the donut, not … Continue reading Vietnam: Hanoi to Ha Long Bay
“They's all meat sheep now,” says Will. He's a pot bellied bloke with a stubbly face, and is wearing a t-shirt with a screaming, flaming, ghastly ghost skull on it. Spooky! We're sitting at the Wimbledon Tavern, an old little pub at the bottom of a steep green valley. “Meat sheep?” I think of the … Continue reading Napier to Wellington
“You looking at the bird?” There's a little black bird hopping around the grass. “He's called B-fah. You see? B for bird!” T starts cracking up at his own joke. He's an older Maori guy, thin and wiry, fluorescent camo bucket hat and little pink reading glasses. “I named him, he follows me everywhere. Poor … Continue reading Wairoa to Napier
I'm way behind on this as usual, but we're taking a few days off before our last couple weeks of riding, so I'm going to try to get caught up. Back in December: From Colville at the top of the Coromandal, we ride south to Whitianga. A vacation community with some houses attached to a … Continue reading Colville to Rotorua
We're in a Mexican restaurant that's playing twangy country music. New Year's Eve. It was a long day, not much above freezing and heavy rain and we had no choice but to ride 60 miles to get here, Ozark, Alabama, because it was the closest place with a motel. I look over the available beers- … Continue reading Alabama
