#3 (Melkbosstrand, South Africa - Loeriesfontein, South Africa)

The days northward begin to blend together. The roads and the hills and the rest stops begin weaving into a tapestry of sights and smells, a patchwork of rough and smooth textures. There are challenging climbs and there are thrilling descents. There are tailwinds and many headwinds. There are many honks and waves of encouragement, plenty of quick encounters packing up outside the grocery. 

#2 (Cape Town, South Africa - Melkbosstrand, South Africa)

I've said before that Cape Town is a terrible place for a bicycle. We do our best to head north, but our best doesn't get us very far. The oceanside promenade from Sea Point to the Waterfront disintegrates just east of the main tourist drag, and the first moments of our worldwide bike tour are interrupted by a large set of stairs calling it all to a halt.

A ship is safest when it's at port. But that's not what ships are built for.

Boats make for good metaphors. Well-worn metaphors. The one here I'm borrowing from somewhere. The high seas, it goes, are a dangerous place. An uncertain place. There are waves and weather and sea monsters real and imagined. The ocean swallows up little boats without a thought. It's best, then, to stay in the harbor. But ships are not meant to idle in the bay.

Bike Touring Bingo: embracing disaster, one square at a time

Coping with the inevitable mishaps of life and travel is largely a matter of mindset. Unpredictability is the defining feature of an adventure. Thus, embracing adventure means welcoming both the good and the bad. Welcoming the good is easy; welcoming the bad can be more challenging. So to make the latter a tad easier, we've created a bleak little game for ourselves called Bike Touring Bingo.

Planning update: we leave in 2 months!

Really, really soon, we'll be waking up somewhere on the edge of the Kalahari Desert, probably in a dew-soaked tent, probably with a pair of really dusty bicycles sprawled on the red dirt by the tent door, probably getting ready for another long day of flat riding through the Botswana bush. That's all approaching at an almost-alarming pace, but we still have a lot to do before we get there.

The good and bad of cycling Iceland

A few months back, I wrote about some things that might be good to know before bike touring around Iceland. Stuff like what weather to expect, where to camp, and how much to budget (oh, and how to get there and which way to travel). Those tips, I hope, captured the logistics of traveling Iceland by bike, but they didn't necessarily capture the experience of doing so. Iceland offers plenty of ups and downs along the way—things that make biking there a pleasure, and things that make it really, really difficult at times. Here are a few of them to consider.

10 reasons to leave the DSLR at home when bike touring

I have a camera—a digital single-lens reflex (DSLR) camera—that takes really crisp, high-resolution photographs. Camera folks regularly name it camera of the year. It's a pleasure to work with: full-frame, articulating display, quick shutter speed. Paired with my lens of choice, a 28-300mm NIKKOR, it takes some really lovely photographs. But, despite all the really gorgeous places our bike trip around the world is sure to take us, it won't be coming with me. Here's why.

Planning update: 4(ish) months until departure

Last month, the departure date for our big bike trip was just five months away. The plan has been to leave in mid-June, and that's still roughly the plan. But it's more likely we'll take a little time States-side between leaving our jobs and leaving the country, so I suppose we won't really be arriving in Botswana, panniers in hand, until the first few days of July. With that said, here's what we managed over the past six weeks, and the plenty we still have to do.

A bike ride around Iceland

There's this lovely little island in the far north that Lauren and I biked around last summer, that we enjoyed tremendously, and that I was too preoccupied to actually write about while traveling. Nearly six months have elapsed since we returned, and I've sensed those memories beginning to erode. I want to capture what's left of them before they wash out to sea like the bits and pieces of an Icelandic glacier—seemingly frozen, yet shrinking slowly if you know just where to look. Much is already gone, so instead of a full report, consider this a series of disconnected, illustrated vignettes from our time on the road.

10 pre-trip worries

Setting off on a multi-year trip can be terribly methodical at times: months of orderly planning and strict budgeting and practical decisions to make. And before we set off, we want to do our best to capture as many of those matters as possible. Beneath the long list of what needs to be decided and what needs to be done, however, there's a whole stew of emotions that are just as important to acknowledge.

Old bike, new bike: A kinda-sorta review of the Salsa Marrakesh we'll be taking on tour

A few years ago, I bought a bike. Outfitted with shiny chrome Campagnolo components and strong, lightweight Reynolds steel and a hidden superpower in which, with just a few loosened bolts, the frame actually separates in half and tucks away neatly into a checkable bag, it was a do-it-all bike that I hoped would be my one and only for decades to come. Except, it wasn't. Here's why I'll be switching to the Salsa Marrakesh for our ride: the things I like about it, and the things I really don't.

Planning update: 5 months until departure

2017 was once an abstract notion: that's the year we quit our jobs, that's the year we leave our homes, that's the year we start biking our way around the world. In the comfort of 2016, it was something far-off, a whole calendar away. But now it's 2017, and so now this is the year we quit our jobs, the year we leave our homes, the year we start biking our way around the world. Things are getting close, anxiety is mounting (excitement too!), and planning is getting serious. Here's what we've gotten done this past month, and what we still have to do.

Why we're biking around the world without insurance

A whole lot can go wrong when biking tens of thousands of kilometers across dozens of countries. Bones can break, tendons can tear, and microscopic bacteria can do some pretty hefty damage to one's innards. And so when planning for a 'round-the-world bike tour, insurance seems a responsible, reasonable, risk-averse purchase. But a third of long-haul bike tourers travel with no insurance, and we're leaning toward becoming a part of that third. Here's why.

5½ great books about bike touring

A good way to pass the time before a big bike trip is to read about someone else's big bike trip. There aren't many books concerning the niche world of bicycle travel (and even fewer that offer well-written and engaging stories, versus instructional how-to guides), but this handful of books does a really wonderful job of capturing the beauty and the simplicity of self-propelled adventure—for someone planning a bike tour, or someone just looking for a good read. 

Planning update: 6 months until departure

Once per month until we depart on our 'round-the-world bike trip, we'll be sharing an update on what we've been doing and the lots we still have to do before we take off. Here's how we're doing on bikes, gear, visas, paperwork, vaccinations, flights, telling people, internet stuff, route planning, research, finances, moving out, test rides, and the feels.