Twenty-three years ago, on a wet June evening, crouched in a stand of aspen under a makeshift shelter fabricated from a lightweight poly tarp and a modified 1982 XT550, a rider spreads out a sleeping bag, while visions of the day's ride drift through his thoughts. High atop the Grand Mesa outside of Grand Junction, CO, thunderclouds surrounded the area, affording a spectacular demonstration of electrical potential as the last traces of the Sun fade behind the silhouette of the Colorado National Monument.

The wet HiPoint boots were upturned over the bike's mirrors, affording them some protection from the weather, while still allowing the boots to breathe. A makeshift meal of noodles, beer, taco seasoning and beef jerky simmered in a foraged tin can at the fire's edge, while the rider sipped the remainder of the six-pack of warm Olympia beer.

Finishing off the last beer and the ad-hoc hobo cuisine, the rain started, drowning the fire and beckoning the rider to the shelter. The dull thrum of the rain falling on the tarp lured him off to sleep. Exhilarated, yet alone, wet and cold, it was at this moment that another adventure rider was borne.

August 17th, 2006: "That's how it all started…," I mused to myself as I drove westward in a rental Penske truck, covering 2,400 miles to reach Coeur D'Alene, ID in two days. Jonz and Lasvegasrider were on a similar mission, heading north to meet me, where our ride to the start of the Continental Divide would begin.

Life doesn't get much better than crossing the country twice in a summer on primarily dirt routes on a dual sport bike. I'd worked my ass off for the past 20 years to get to this point, and now I'm going to really seize the opportunity and RIDE in '06.

I chose my '03 KTM 640 Adventure over my XR650R, primarily for the added fuel capacity and weight carrying ability.

I camped the first night in Sioux Falls, SD in the back of the Penske truck. A light rain fell on the fiberglass roof, and I reminisced of that night of 23 years ago on the Grand Mesa once again. August 18th: Another day of driving and I was rewarded by color, somewhere near Butte, MT. Another night of camping in the back of the Penske truck was cold, dropping to near freezing.

I arrived at Couer' D'Alene, and went back through my stuff, sending three boxes back home. Now, nothing to do but sit back and wait for LVR and Jonz, and the ride begins. I waited some of that time at the Outback, swilling back a couple Fosters (Molson), then snoozing at the empty rental depot, comfortably leaned against a dually. As lean and mean as I can make her. With a little luck and some throttle restraint, a half worn MT21 and a new Bridgestone ED78 should get me to Mexico. Maybe.

At dusk, LVR and Jonz arrived.

We unloaded the KLR and Ol' Ironsides, packed up, and set sail in the dark for Sandpoint, MT. The ride begins………….