roadworthy Embracing my inner camper By Alisa Clickenger #131331
THIS WEEK I AM alternating writing and packing for the BMW MOA Inter- national Rally. I haven’t been on a motorcycle camping trip in quite a while,
and I am finding it great fun to pre- pare, plan and pack for the upcoming ride. Thursday I picked up a 2014 BMW R 1200 GS Adventure, a bike from which I have never camped. I’m currently learning how to pack on a new bike and savoring the process which is nearly new to me after more than twelve months of not camping. Many years ago I was caught on
video describing my (perceived) hor- rors regarding camping. It became a running joke among my friends, and I became known as “The Camping Princess.” I did like being outdoors, and I did camp, but not without a lot of suffering as well as no small amount of complaining. I camped in order to be with my friends, but I always seemed the odd and uncom- fortable girl out. That was a long time ago. Fast forward several years and I
had a lifestyle change that allowed me to travel more, but unfortunately with less pocket money. That meant more motorcycle camping for me, much to the surprise of my friends. I finally invested in good gear and marveled at the difference in comfort. A light- weight sleeping bag and a pad that inserted into the bottom of my sleep- ing bag so I wouldn’t roll off in the night, and I was a new woman. Yes, my Big Agnes sleeping suite
was remarkable. The insulated air pad kept me comfortable many nights at elevation, changing the camping game completely. I spent the entire
62 BMW OWNERS NEWS September 2015
summer and fall of 2009 riding and camp- ing every night, embracing and expanding my inner adventuress. I rode some 15,000 miles, doing a figure eight around the United States, essentially living off the motorcycle and no doubt surprising those that knew me in my early days of motor- cycle adventuring. Some folks will never camp, and that
works mighty fine for them. Given a choice between a comfy bed and sleeping on the
MOST PEOPLE IN 4X4S HAVE A CERTAIN
COMFORT LEVEL, AND WHEN I RANGE BEYOND EVEN THEIR LIMIT, THAT’S WHEN THE
REMARKABLE HAPPENS.
ground, I still just might choose a bed. (No doubt there’s still a little princess in me.) But to ride in the places where I’ve been privileged to ride and to wake up to the glorious vistas I’ve risen to, often that requires going off the beaten path and yes, camping. One of the many reasons I enjoy motor-
cycle travel is that I can reach the places where most people don’t go. The majority of folks stop at the end of the pavement. There are intrepid woods-goers that drag their toy haulers and other formidable RVs up into the mountains, and I like going beyond them as well. Most people in 4x4s have a certain comfort level, and when I range beyond even their limit, that’s when the remarkable happens. Beyond the noise of group campfires,
barking dogs and generators, there’s a silence that stills the soul. Life slows down to the pace of a heartbeat, and often that’s
the only sound you’ll hear if you listen hard enough. Without the generic noises of civi- lization I find all my senses come alive again and I fully start living. I become one with the earth, so to speak, and I feel like I am a part of something greater than my everyday life. I’ve come to embrace camping as a way
of leaving my ordinary routine in order to find myself again. To be still, which I almost never am, is a rare gift that I’ve finally learned to give myself through backcountry camping. I’ve found it’s a way that I can nurture myself without expend- ing a lot of effort or money. It’s a way to be alone with my thoughts, and sometimes my partner; it’s a time almost as rich as my time alone in my helmet. I’ve learned to love the sounds of the
night, with the rustling animals, wind in the treetops and the deep forest sighs. I’m still not a fan of camping in bear country, although I’ve done it plenty enough. I love camping in the desert, especially when I awake to hear the coyote songs at night. I travel with a headlamp yet embrace those nights around the full moon when no man- made light is needed. Not everyone knows the places I speak
of. While many find comfort in the com- pany of community campers, I’ve learned to enjoy purposely seeking out the wild places. There’s something extremely grati- fying about being self-sufficient on a motorcycle, even though the planning and packing is a bit involved at times. Next weekend I’ll be meeting up with an
old friend who knew me as “The Camping Princess,” He has threatened to bring a copy of the condemning video to disprove the myth of my MotoAdventureGal status. I say bring it on. While I’ll be embracing my inner camper for a week each way to Billings and back, I’ve booked myself a hotel room for the rally. Feel free to call me “The Camping Princess.” I’ll chuckle about it in my snug, comfy bed.
discovery
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