By Naomi Twed­dle


I started rid­ing mo­tor­cy­cles at the age of 16 and when mo­tor­cy­cle ad­ven­ture travel be­came a thing I was in. I’ve rid­den over 100,000km on my trav­els and through 12 coun­tries. See more at mo­to­ There are rocks as far as the eye can see. Big rocks, small rocks, rocks all over the trail. The sun is beat­ing down and a thick layer of dust and dirt cakes our faces. Our com­mu­ni­ca­tion sys­tem chit-chat dies, we are down to ba­sics. I can only muster short an­swers as 100% of my fo­cus is on the road and pick­ing my lines. All the lakes shown on Garmin must have been sea­sonal be­cause they are nowhere to be found. We are mak­ing progress, but it’s slow. Like nav­i­gat­ing a mine­field, con­stantly ad­just­ing our course be­cause hit­ting just one rock could send us off course and into the bushes. And then, to add in­sult to in­jury, the re­serve light kicks in on the bike. This rocky ad­ven­ture prob­a­bly only lasts two hours but it feels like an eter­nity. Hap­pi­ness washes over me as a gas sta­tion fi­nally comes into view. I run quickly into the air-con­di­tioned

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