Travel / The Soul of Adventure Motorcycling // ADV Rider

Each year, there’s a wave of new riders discovering Teneres and Africa and Mosko Moto, and border crossings, and sand. And it’s all terribly exciting, and it gets shared, excessively, on Instagram and YouTube and TikTok, and I, for one, often find myself envying every single one of those souls.

Because for them, everything is new. The bike, the traveling, the challenges, the wins; moto camping for the first time, what glory and boundless joy; the first few miles south of the Mexican border; the first ride in the dark and rain somewhere in the Pamirs; the first flat tires, Moroccan tagine, and the sight of the Sahara Desert. New horizons. Newly burned clutches. New gear hacks.

Of course, very little of it is actually new; Itchy Boots may have replaced Long Way Round as a source of inspiration, more bike and gear options are now available than ever, and, chances are, more people are riding RTW – although this is more of a feeling based on social media feeds rather than hard data, so don’t quote me on it – but the idea, twenty years ago and now, remains the same: obtain a bike, any bike; pack some stuff; go get lost in the world for a year, or five, or ten – and return wiser and richer for the experience, or at the very least, just a little different, because the world does change you for the better whether you intend it or not.

Then come the talks and the books, the blogs and the YouTube series; and then, oblivion, until the next generation comes along, and the cycle begins again.

And, again, it’s all terribly new and exciting.

There are difficulties with the beginning of every ADV career, as you learn the ropes, but the thrills are more than worth the spills. Photo: Sergey Nemirovsky/Shutterstock.com

A few weeks ago, some riders asked me if they could park their van in my yard for a couple of weeks; they trucked their Teneres (!) down to Southern Spain and were headed for Morocco (!) for the first time (!). I was so stoked for them. And when they returned, I remained in perpetual stoked mode as they recounted their tales from the Sahara. I’ve ridden Morocco several times, and I’ve heard stories about Morocco from friends and fellow riders, but seeing those guys wash the Saharan mud off their bikes and listening to their wild tales was just… pure joy. They’re home by now, going through their photos and drone footage and preparing their adventure talks – their cycle is ending – but, man, I just couldn’t get enough of the “and then the sandstorm came!” and “the Milky Way in the Sahara – dude – it was the.best.thing.ever” and “four flat tires in a week, and we were running out of spare tubes!”.

Sometimes, I wish I could hit rewind and freeze-frame the period before the talks, the books, the inevitable turn to guiding adventure tours, and localized fly-and-ride trips with a specific goal in mind (“let’s see if I can find X amount of singletrack trails in the Ecuadorian Andes” or “what about riding to Senegal along the old Paris-Dakar routes?”). Sometimes, I wish I was still bumbling along some obscure trail in Africa or Asia on a simple thumper, getting butterflies in my stomach at each new border crossing, and finding myself utterly mesmerized by a new mountain range or a desert, unpacking my tent under the big skies and feeling overjoyed to find a set of good tires in Samarkand.

For me, that “before” picture is the real deal, the heart and soul of this whole adventure riding thing. It’s that fire in your belly, that itch to see what’s around the next bend, not the perfect Instagram shot, gear sponsorships, or the fancy itinerary; it’s all about embracing the chaos, the unexpected detours, and the pure joy of discovering something new.

The wild world of adventure riding is never boring, but the thrill of first-time discovery is even better. Photo: Michael Kaercher/Shutterstock.com

It’s about those moments when you’re out there on your own, exposed to the elements, relying on the kindness of strangers as you make weird decisions you can’t quite explain later. The world’s a wild place, and you’re just a tiny speck navigating its twists and turns with a sense of wonder.

And hey, that feeling never really goes away, does it? It might get buried under years of experience and knowing the ropes, but it’s always there, simmering beneath the surface. Maybe it’s a glimpse of an old dirt road, a chat with a fellow rider returning from Morocco, or just the wind in your face as you blast towards the horizon.

So while I’m thoroughly enjoying the stories of newbies and all their “firsts”, and find myself just a little envious, I remind myself that the soul of adventure riding remains the same regardless of your mileage. It’s about that constant hunger for exploration, that drive to see what’s beyond the map, and that unshakeable belief that the best adventures are the ones you never saw coming.

It’s about keeping that fire burning, even when the road gets rough and the world feels familiar. Because the truth is, the journey never really ends, and there’s always a new adventure waiting just around the corner… even if the corner isn’t new.

What’s your fondest memory of your first adventures and misadventures? And do you still get butterflies when you swing a leg over the saddle?