This is my newsletter #26: Abhishek Iyer

Where can I begin?

I’m feeling content today. It’s Friday afternoon, I’ve had enough happen with my day and I´m in a quiet little town. Lying down in my motel room being able to overhear other guest conversations. Well, at least what I can understand of some of it. I’ll treat myself to a beer later. I’ve had a good run lately, all things considered. 

It’s been 3 weeks on the road. And things...well haven’t exactly gone as planned.

I spent a month studying up an adventure. Why? I suppose my job has me feeling exiled and I over compensate. I tend to want more out of my limited time on land than hang out at home and watch the days go by.

So I go looking for something challenging to do on a bicycle. A few years ago this started across South India, then I went a step further and did the length of Nepal and then a year later, the length of Norway. It’s been a whole 2 years since the Northern Lights.

I found a slick looking website with an even slicker looking blog post about a 6 week route through a desert and I thought, “this feels good” – the difficulty vs appeal ratio appealed to me.

I began ‘prep work’, which is short for researching the hell out of the trip; the terrain, the weather, the visa requirements and permits, the gear I’ll need, the items I’ll need to buy or hustle a good deal for, how I’ll stagger the distance, heck, even the podcasts I ought to have lined up. Everything fits nicely into a spreadsheet and when I can sit back and go “yes” is when I know I’m good to go.

The only thing different this time was; well sufficeth to say this year has been more ‘distracting’ than others. Due to the ‘pandemic-who-must-not-be-named, I’ve been preoccupied with the less sexy but probably more important things related to life, my family, their health, my job security...you know, the usual existential mumbo jumbo.

So this time my spreadsheet may not have been as comprehensive as I had hoped. Which is a critical thing to be thinking about now, months later, while on a 24 hour cross-country bus ride with my bicycle tucked away in the cargo hatch along with several other bike-packing bags containing everything I thought I’d need.

I had just said goodbye to my crew with whom I spent the last two months. We worked on marine life conservation, a stint I had signed up to do on the side as part of a long vacation from work. Life on this ship wasn’t particularly action-packed as what comes to mind first, but more of a behind the scenes sort of thing. My crew and I were working hard and patiently to get her ready and outfitted for a campaign and then hand it over to the next crew who gets to take it out. Rumours were it was heading out a thousand miles south on anti-poaching operations. I grew attached to my time there and leaving felt bittersweet.

The bus ride was going fine. I found a comfortable seat by a gigantic window with a view of the desert and open vistas with some patches of green. I put on my noise-cancelling headphones to drown out the absurdly loud noise coming from the dubbed Hollywood movie playing on the TV. I began getting used to military checkpoints. They stopped the bus, had you get off it and scan your bags. Standard stuff.

I happened to be carrying some contraband. How serious could the offence be, I thought to myself, feeling somewhat comfortable with the risk vs reward situation. I had managed to place a last minute order for a vape pen and a THC-infused cartridge. They arrived just in time at the shipyard before my trip. As a backup, I also sheepishly accepted a small bag of the herb that was a farewell gift from a school teacher I had become friends with in the last couple months. Having the option to get high on a bicycle adventure felt essential to me. Having to explain the enthusiasm for it to some authorities if I was asked to? I was okay with that chance.

The fifth military checkpoint arrived. We had just crossed into another state. I knew the drill. Just wanted to get it over with so I could go back to sleep on the bus; hadn’t slept much in the cold of the AC on full blast. The female military official looked into my camera bag. I explained what I’m there to do and showed pictures of me on a bicycle. She just stopped shy of the vape pen and was fortunately convinced enough that I’m not someone worth her time. 

She gave me the cue to leave. I open the door, but it is shut! I look puzzled at an official and he tells me I’ve got to sit down. I look around and I see no one else from my bus. I look outside, and well, I can’t see my bus! I start to realise that my bus and the other passengers left me behind. Fuck. I go over to the official, calmly trying to explain what I think was currently happening. That I’m good to go as per your colleague there and I think you've mistaken me to be part of another bus group. Meanwhile mine has left. And it’s taken my bicycle and bags with it.

I think he sensed some urgency and began speaking to his colleagues to try and help fix the situation. Albeit more to share the hilarity of it than taking steps to repair it, it seemed. Meanwhile I pull out Facebook and continue texting this guy I connected with on a group just hours ago. I needed help from someone in the area to buy camping gas. I took the liberty to switch the agenda up and told the stranger what just happened. He lived in the next city the bus was headed toward and he agreed to intercept the bus on my behalf and collect my bicycle and bags. A whole 2 hours later, I am onboard another bus that is headed the same way. Phew.

So glad to be at the Air BnB. What a fucking day! Haven’t slept in a regular-sized bed in 2 months. Let me settle in. Maybe now is a good time to see what M from the crew said she left for me. I think she said something about not using the espresso maker, maybe there is something in it.

Oh man! I don’t think I’ve received a romantic goodbye letter before. This is adorable! Sounds so much cooler reading it in her accent. I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.

“You’ve got to bicycle as far as I can get right in the beginning”, my digital guide said. I was happy sticking to what was advised on a blog. But I had an awfully long day, somehow more gruelling than any previous bicycle expeditions. After making it a decent distance into the wilderness, hours of out view of city folk, I found a nice spot to camp and I was happy that I got some good photos during the ride. Scanning through them, lying horizontal in my tent again, I had never felt better. But biking that day was unusually challenging, I kept revisiting. I resign and retire to sleep, hoping it’d get better the next day.

I wake up the next morning and my bones feel well rested. The morning routine on a bikepacking trip is usually my favourite, I like to take my time preparing myself some coffee and a little breakfast while studying the day’s route and weather conditions before packing up and heading out. But I couldn’t shake the feeling something felt different. Was it fatigue? Poor fitness? Have I just packed badly? Did I not anticipate the terrain well enough?

I decided to shut my inner voice up and get back on the road. Dirt road in a hilly desert, to be more precise. Two miserable hours in, my inner voice sparked up again. “You’re barely even biking, stopping every 100 metres to re-fasten your bags. You’re hauling too much stuff for a trip like this! You’re not going to get you very far today, or any freaking day for that matter.”

Sigh. He was right. I messed up. With a heavy heart, I turned around. I didn’t know what it meant for my trip, but I knew it was the right call. I found a rancher I had passed the previous day and Mr. L happily drove me back to town. We had a good chat on the drive back and talked about karma. Folks in this country sure are friendly, I thought to myself.

That evening, I get to a local bar and start recalibrating. “I still have 4 weeks to do something; the culture and the landscape here is breathtaking! I’m not going to get out of this place without an adventure.”

Plan Bs and Cs start to float through my head, I check out car and motorcycle rentals. Maybe I can turn this into a Fear & Loathing kind of situation, driving my way down the peninsula with a reckless abandon! Definitely worth considering, I remarked to myself while I took another sip of my beer.

After a little research it turned out I couldn’t legally purchase a vehicle here. Shucks.

Instead, I get back on good ol’ Facebook and start hitting the groups and marketplaces. Two guys responded, one even spoke English. I hopped into an Uber and went over to his garage. A test ride and several visits to the ATM later, I did it! I bought myself a freaking motorcycle!

This trip was turning out to be quite a ride already. 30 hours earlier, I was camping out in a desert feeling distraught; I still had weeks lying ahead of me and wasn’t feeling up to the adventure ahead, which evidently seemed like it’d involve more being a mule than riding.

Now I’m ready to set the asphalt ablaze with this baby. While I don’t normally care for motorcycles, something about the circumstances leading up to this moment really had me fired up!

I left my bicycle at his garage and put it up on sale. Told the seller I’d see him again in a few weeks and he gave me a few helpful pointers for the road ahead.

Meanwhile, the crew on the ship seems concerned. I hadn’t written back to them in a few days. I guess I’m still processing this new narrative, and low-key doubting my own judgement of it. It’s nice to hear that Mr. J – who I had handed over the ship to – say some flattering things about the state I left the ship in, plus Mr. D saying he misses my management style...I had never “managed” a ship before. These brief messages sent some endorphins through my brain and I decided to ride the high. Picked up a cheap duffel bag, strapped it on my motorcycle, and hit the road!

Breezy. Convenient. And SO much time on my hands suddenly. Zero rush with making or breaking camp. 150kms sounds doable in 1/3rd the time than on a poorly loaded bicycle. In fact, I’m afraid I have too little ground to cover for time on hand now!

I buy oil for an on-road top up and a new helmet. Camped looking at the ocean that evening and shared the turn of events on call with close friends. No seriously, this place had the best sunset I had seen in a long time. Orange, pink and purple. I was optimistic about my time ahead. What could go wrong? Really though, what AM I really going to do here without an agenda? I guess I’m going to have to create one each day as I go.

I rode some more and camped some more. I had time on my hands to use the tripod I carried with the camera. I analysed hypothetical scenarios with me on a motorcycle in a different setting in the future. And what I would do differently to find a sweet spot. But slowly lurking in the back of my mind I realised, there was this feeling of waning interest. Perhaps on a certain level, I was seeking something larger. It was getting clearer, some existential questions were about to surface, and that made me uncomfortable.

So warm hearing from N, the cook on ship, today. She tells me she snapped at S for missing his dinner chores again, and now feels sorry. Haha.

What is the rest of the crew doing right now? Chipping the bilges, fiberglass repair or probably making banter at lunch time. I’d probably be walking around looking busy at my phone. Translating text messages or giving a thumbs up to the crew. Time to put my phone away for now though. 

Just 120kms to go today. I’ve filled a full tank of gas, I’ve managed to find a way to use my headphones AND a helmet and I turn some music on. Ten minutes into the road, I realise something just flew off the bike. It took less than a second to realise it was my phone that just came off its holder and is now lying several feet away in the middle of the highway. I nonchalantly pull over to the side and begin walking back to it. There’s a car arriving from the other side and I don’t know whether I did a great job signalling to him in those few seconds but he swerved just enough to the right and *smash* went right over my phone. I picked up the phone, and the screen – separately. Sitting down on the side of the road, I wondered if this was a deal breaker.

As an aside, I should tell you that a phone is a key component (duh) to have where I am, doing what I’m doing. Whether it’s looking up gas and resupply stations in the desert, translating language, transferring funds for trip expenses, wild camping reconnaissance, or even basic navigation, I don’t know how far I’d be able to get without a functional phone.

Two cigarettes later, I get on the motorcycle and head in the reverse direction to a decent sized town. Through the cracks on the phone screen on Google Maps, I manage to get myself to a phone repair store. Great news was he was confident the phone isn’t trash yet. Bad news after a heavy expense, my phone’s functional but mostly unpredictable.

I’ve got to get on the road again and not wild camp today. Reports on a camping app indicate that some campers got jumped in the area. I found a great campsite on a cliff and took some pictures with my motorcycle and camp for documentation. I see a shed nearby and I decide to go hang out in the shade and be lazy for a while because I get to. I had done well with executing the day’s ride and everything else that came with it. A guy, definitely seeming like a tourist just like me, comes around to say hi and hangs out. He tells me he is there on a motorcycle too. An hour into conversation with Mr. J, he offers me some chocolate telling me he was turning 30 that day. I take one in my hand as he tells me it contains a dose of magic mushrooms. I take two. His recommendation.

Sunset on the cliff, orange skies, arm chairs, Zero 7 on a small bluetooth speaker, a couple countryside dogs and two people hanging out mildly high on mushrooms. He tells me he likes to surf and we share stories about life adventures. I make note that bringing a camping chair on trips is a sweet idea. I swear there are 3 times as many stars in the night sky if you stare at it long enough.

The next day J and I swap motorcycles and ride to a National Park. I was on a motorcycle 4x as powerful as the one I owned and man, that beast gave me a rush – it felt like I could get  places I hadn’t thought I could get to! The park was high altitude, high enough to see a shift from the sage and brush to pine trees now. The park was shut (as per local rules due to the pandemic) but we managed to duck under the barricade and took a short walk. It felt like we were the only ones inside.

The ride back was through the night and I felt I was easily 20km/hr faster riding in the dark. It wasn’t a coincidence that it was getting increasingly cold, the air temperature was dropping rapidly and I began to regret wearing shorts. Coyotes and rabbits crossing at whim made me focus on the road harder so as to not run them over.

I feel burdened and fatigued. I’m mentally worn out. Did I really say these things to J last night? And feeling all this while I’m out here? There definitely could have been better timing. This adventure was what ‘past-me’ signed up for, a version of it at least. And now I think I’m tired moving from thing to thing. I also feel disdain for my current job. And thrilled thinking about the other option. I think I’m feeling ready for some...stability? I don’t know what it is, I’m getting close though.

I begin packing my tent up. *Snap*. I heard a cord in one of the tent poles go. I suppose camping was now struck off the list.

I need a motel tonight to think things through. Well, I don’t have a choice here. A warm bed felt extremely welcome. I was too tired to do a load of laundry in town so I decided to postpone indefinitely until I figure answers to some of the larger looming questions on my mind. What am I doing here for another so many weeks? Do I have the money for motels every night? Do I have a plan? Heck, do I even have energy? Have I – on a side note – lost all interest in going back to my previous job? Maybe I’ll go get a pizza and just watch YouTube on wifi tonight and sleep in.

Haven’t heard back from that special crew member in a while. That hurts, and is confusing. I’m glad we parted on a good note. Meanwhile, so cool hearing the other ships just got signed on to go to a new campaign!  I wish I was able to see how they’re getting along getting ready to sail out. 

I’ve got 300kms of riding through barren desert land today. That’s 6 hours with stops. That means I have to carry a full tank of fuel, food, water, lubricating oil, a full battery and podcasts for the road. I better leave early. Started my day with 90s alternative rock music and moved on to more mellow electronic. Ripped the bike on long straight stretches of asphalt and cinematic Wild West views to boot. Treated myself to some light smoking, casual pace riding, and letting the internal monologue do its thing. Observing my thoughts meander through my mind while taking a second to appreciate a breather and my surroundings.

The day went well. I crushed my target time, heard a cool podcast, took mental notes and mosied down to a village end of the day in a bay with 700 inhabitants.

Mr. D, from the ship crew, suggested I visit a coffee shop there. Mr. D had more coffee in a day than anyone else I knew and I would trust his recommendation. Besides, it seemed like the only coffee shop in town. I walk in next morning for a coffee and to make notes for my time ahead. The guy behind the counter and the customer he was chatting with gave me a look of familiarity. I responded back with the same. Mr. D had put us in touch online a couple weeks ago and I told them I was Mr. D’s friend. They gave me a warm welcome, a fist bump as I take a seat next to Mr. M, the customer. We exchange information on what we were doing there while Mr. A, the barista, serves me a hot Chai. Mr. M tells me he leads whale watching tours and was a cinematographer before. My interest is piqued and he tells me he’s worked with one of my favourite adventure photographers! I play it cool and I get a kick out of stories he shares from that time with him. I think I did a good job holding a conversation while I was high. I just asked more questions and sat eager to listen.

There isn’t much to do here I realised but that’s the point, something told me with this place. I see local fishermen go out in their boats one evening and I’m curious to go out with them. So almost automatic, I am up at 5 in the morning and head out to get a coffee and bananas from a local kiosk. I “bump” into a local fisherman and show him a translation of – “I’m here passing by on a motorcycle. Is there any chance I can join you while you go fishing today?”

He gives me the thumbs up. Five minutes later, we’re on his boat and head out into choppy waters under a cloudy morning sky. There’s seagulls and pelicans patrolling us, eager to scavenge. S and J, the fisherman, seem like quite a Laurel and Hardy duo. They’re thrilled to hear I was visiting from India and we made successful conversation using a combinationof our limited knowledge of each other’s languages. We both fortunately had a purely functional vocabulary and I was proud of my effort with the audiobook tutorial from the last couple days. We went buoy to buoy and they hauled in their nets picking up just under a usual amount of fish and then went over to rocky islands nearby to haul in tiny cages near the shoreline hoping to find octopuses. 20kgs is what they hauled in that morning and said it meant a party for them that evening :)

What if...I just say a firm “no” to my current job? I mean, does this really mean it gets to be over when I pull the trigger? Such a rush looking forward in another other direction! Let me make quick mental notes on how to execute it over the next couple weeks. You know, just in case that I need to. Saving time and misery is all. 

Rode into a bigger town yesterday. I see paintings of whales every store front I look at. I guess this is a good spot to go whale watching. C, a tour guide, asks me to meet her early in the morning and said we would go out on the boat for a couple hours. I show up, make some small talk and now sit patiently hoping to see some grey whales in the lagoon. It seems they’ve arrived after travelling 20000kms from the north to warmer waters to breed and feed. Odds of whale spotting are super high, I gathered. A slow and long boat ride later I broke my whale virginity. And how! I mean, too many to count by the end of the tour. Everywhere you turned there was a mom and calf. One female even surprise breached us meters away from the boat and then dove underneath to swim across from right under.

C, her boyfriend R and I chat about the experience over a snack after the tour was over. They guess correctly what brought me to this side of the world in the first place and I see their eyes light up. They said they were big fans of the organisation and work they were doing around the area. On the way back to town, C offers an extra tent they have lying around at home and said I should keep that as a parting gift. I’m overwhelmed by that generosity. 

I still have bigger decisions to make. But for now, let me go think about that over Fish Tacos and a Pacifico. :)

Thanks for reading.
Much love from Baja California, México.

Music I’m digging on the road - Damien Jurado
Last ‘aha’ moment with a podcast - Tim Ferriss with Dr.Jim Loehr

Newsletter by Abhishek Iyer