I can’t say I’ve been on many car adventures – in fact, I’d say I’ve only been on one proper adventure, but it was quite a doozy. Back in 2006, when I was running RC Car Action magazine, HPI launched its brand-new 1/5 scale gas-powered buggy, the Baja 5b.
This was literally a big deal because the car was enormous at nearly three feet long, and also a big deal because the 5b was the first 1/5 scale car to come from a “mainstream” hobby brand that was easy to find in hobby stores and arrived ready to run with the fit, finish, and performance expected of a big player like HPI was (at the time, anyway). Before the 5b arrived, large-scale RC was a tiny niche supported by just a few brands selling relatively crude cars that were hard to find and poorly supported by American hobby stores.
Spacer
Hoping for a huge hit with he car, HPI put together the first and, I believe, only big-time media press trip for the buggy. All the RC car magazines (remember magazines?) were invited to experience three days wheeling 2WD off-road buggies on the Baja peninsula, courtesy of Wide Open Baja. The two-seaters were still VW-powered then, as Wide Open had only just begun moving over to Subaru boxer power. But even with “only” the heartbeat of a bug, the lightweight two-seaters could really haul culo.
Two drivers were assigned to each buggy, and would trade places behind the wheel at each stop on the trip down the peninsula. I was paired with HPI’s Akira Kogawa, designer of not only the 5b but many other classic models. Speed was limited only by driver confidence and courage, unless someone had such an excess of either that they were slowed down by the guide driver. Going faster made the cars easier to drive, to a point, as greater speed helped the car skip over rough terrain and whoops whereas driving more cautiously would allow the wheels to fully dip into every depression and make for a much slower, rougher ride. It was a blast, but just three days of exciting off-roading, beautiful Mexican scenery, delicious food, and sketchy hotels wasn’t enough. I would have happily stayed a month.
So that’s my big car adventure. Tell me about the one’s you’ve been on, and the adventures to come.
Top graphic image: Wide Open Baja
I have been lucky to have many great car adventures:
1. Davis, CA to Vancouver, WA and back with my brother in a rental Kia.
2. Pittsburgh to Phoenix with a good friend during post-undergrad funemployment in his 328 XDrive. Phoenix to Vegas and back in a GLI on a later visit.
3. Driving through NorCal in a Model X with good friends. Looking up at redwoods through the glass roof.
4. Columbus to Denver, then Death Valley on an R&D test trip for Honda.
5. Driving a RHD Kei van in traffic in Turks&Caicos. Terrified my mom.
6. Columbus to Buffalo in my RWD IS200t during a gnarly lake effect storm.
7. Drove up Haleakala in a VERY reluctant Sentra.
8. Columbus to Bowling Green (NCM) and back with my now-wife in my Cayman. I’ve been pitching a Great American Road Trip™️ to her for some time now. I think I’ve got her convinced.
9. Several track weekends in said Cayman.
Honorable mention: finding out my Civic’s AC didn’t work when we brought our son home from the hospital.
Travelling for a coule of weeks wtih a cousin for surfing and kayaking along the northern California and Oregon coast. Abalone fishing, surf kayaking, rain camping in my ’71 Fiat 128 two door sedan. Loads of fun including a detour to court which wasn’t fun.
Our honeymoon in a ’76 VW ASI camper lasted about 8 months across the US and Canada. Adventure enough? I’m hoping to replicate the trip in a bit larger vehicle in a couple of years, thus my whining incessantly here for a hybrid sprinter-scale camper.
I have had this one cooking since my son was 2 and did a phenomenal job on the drive from Boston to Montreal and back:
Old school road-trip to The House on the Rock.
Hear me out: Kiddo reaches about 10 years old or up. Old enough to know how to deal with boredom well, young enough that weird road side attractions are still pretty cool. Bonus points: I am in a financial place to make an impractical car purchase while living in a major metropolitan area that requires parking spaces be rented or purchased and mid-size SUVs barely fit in them. This last part is relevant shortly.
My idea here is that I buy a proper old American road-trip car like I used to drive (I had an ’88 Crown Vic and a ’92 Town Car). It’ll likely be something 80s or 90s because even something from 1982 would be 50 years old at that point. I don’t see myself pushing a budget to get something awesome from the 60s or 70s (though I do think a 1972 Ford LTD convertible would be PERFECT for this plan), so realistically I’m thinking late 80s Lincoln Town Car or maybe a Mercury Grand Marquis as I have fond memories of both (My dad has the Mercury and my Nana the Town Car in triple gold with the wire hubcaps). Either way, 20 ft long land yacht that does not enjoy parallel parking or small parking garages. Buy it, clean it, detail it, do all the basic repairs the old V8 would need to not die instantly. A pretty hefty investment, sure, but worth it for the comfort of leaving Boston and heading to Spring Green, Wisconsin for one of the most batshit attractions this side of Rock City. Which is a solid back up and only 100 fewer miles. Either way, we’re talking 18 hours, over 1000 miles one way. I’m seeing epic Spring Break road trip for the ages!
If successful, memories! If really successful and the car doesn’t kick the bucket and I can justify a parking space, now I have a Lemons Rally Racer with panache!
House on the Rock is peak weird road trip. Sounds like an awesome time with your kid! Try to take the SS Badger steam car ferry across Lake Michigan either going or coming.
Thanks for the tip on the SS Badger! I’ve got a few more years to go, but it is never too early to start planning and scoping out the right vehicle.
I’ve been to House on the Rock, inexplicably twice. Crazy place! We have long time friends who live near Madison in New Glarus.
I’ve wanted to go since reading American Gods and growing up passing all the Southern tourist destinations like Rock City, the caverns beneath Tennessee, the Dahlonega gold mines (been there!), and the Georgia Guide Stones (went a few times, sad they’re gone).
Two-and-a-half month US cross-country road trip in NB Miata. Honed my Tetris skills and racked up many smiles and miles on that and more half-cross-country drives. Road trips now with back seats feel like cheating.
That’s dedication.
My dad and his best friend did a full loop of the USA in my dad’s grey market fiat 1500 spider. I’m still amazed they still talk to each other after that trip.
That’s friendship. A buddy joined me for the first two weeks with a mutually-decided end date. Great time together made better by the clarity.
That is a bucketlist level trip for me.
Edit: Looked back at the floppy disks. Cross-country was only two months driving, plus half-month crunch planning that felt like it had started. Memory plays tricks.
I’ve been blessed with many roadgoing adventures, but the one I’ll tell about was the one where my wife and I knew for sure we were in love, two months after we started dating. We are an internet dating success story, and one of the things she mentioned in her profile was how she loved to soak in hot springs. We met in Portland, and her parents were spending summers there and winters in Tucson. They needed to get one of their vehicles from there up to Portland, and my wife had already volunteered and planned the trip before we started dating. It was a 1987 Vanagon Westfalia camper van, “The Bus Gus” (after Paul Simon, of course). Not only did this sound like a fantastic road trip I wanted to get myself invited on, her plan was also to stop at a different natural hot spring every night of the trip. Sign me up!
We took the eastern path up California, heading up 395 instead of 5 or 101. Over the course of seven days on the road, although we didn’t sleep at a spring every night, we soaked in a different version of God’s own hot tub at least once each day, every day. The first soak, though, in Arizona, came back to haunt us twice – we had also enjoyed a mineral mud bath LOADED with lithium, but even after soaking clean in the water another hour after that, we didn’t realize we both smelled like sulfur, one of the other ingredients in the mud. We each woke up in the night boondocking on the side of a dirt road, sniffed the air, and very similar thoughts. My wife:”What’s that smell? Are they paving a road nearby or something? Ew, that’s my hair!” Meanwhile, me: “Yuck, is someone tarring a roof nearby somewhere? Oh my God, that’s my arm!”
We had not planned on taking an actual bath, with soap and whatnot, for a while yet, but we obviously needed one, so we grabbed a bottle of Dr. Bronner’s at a camp store and looked for a body of water we could borrow. Problem is, we had just begun the leg of the trip where Los Angeles County has stolen everybody of water from its rightful owners and users for 400 miles. Any body of water any larger than a cattle trough had a fence around it with a sign saying “PROPERTY OF LA COUNTY PUBLIC WORKS – NO TRESPASSING.” I learned to hate Los Angeles for a whole new list of reasons on that trip.
We finally arrived at Lake Diaz, high in the Sierras, and it was open for recreation. We immediately decided to go make ourselves smell better. This is where the mud bath got us the second time: Diaz Lake’s primary water source is snowmelt runoff from Mount Whitney, meaning that the water is EXCRUCIATINGLY COLD. We squealed like little girls trying to survive a complete bath in that ice cold water. We were sure we were quite a sight to the fisherman on the bank many yards away. That was also where we saw a sign warning that the voles, etc. in the area were known to carry bubonic plague, and to not feed them or approach them, which is how the figure of speech “plague-ridden varmints” entered our family glossary.
Favorite stop: Benton Hot Springs, California, population 13 – and I think #13 is the cat that lives at the hotel. In the middle of nowhere in the Sierras is a little inn with hot and cold spring fed water in the rooms, but out back: an 8-space campground that comes with a fire ring, a picnic table… and a private barrel tub, with a showerhead. Since they’re cleaned after every guest, it’s the only hot tub, much less hot spring, I’ve ever been able to take an actual bath in, with soap and shampoo. You gotta be going there to get there, it ain’t the kind of place you drop by on your way somewhere else, but if you ever find yourself within 200 miles of the place, make the trip. Trust me.
The other noteworthy stop: Umpqua Hot Springs in Oregon, our last soak before driving the last leg home. We rolled into the parking lot sad, as though we wanted to live on the road for another month. But by the time we left, we really wanted to go straight home, because after we got there, The Rainbow Family showed up. The extended family. Three or four dilapidated school buses made into campers, accompanied by a dozen passenger cars, swarmed the parking lot between our hike to the springs and our coming back. Now, my wife is a self-described “California hippie liberal witch” who has been a raver and a Burner in her life, and I am at least hippie-adjacent and quite the experienced, ahem, “psychonaut” – but this was something else. This was a tribe of filthy uncivilized nomads engaging in some very questionable behavior. There was one kid who looked to be about 21, with a very ugly gash right down the bridge of his nose that looked at least 24 hours old, that also didn’t look like it had been cleaned. My wife the former nurse-midwife was appalled. But worse than that was one girl who was a) absolutely out of her gourd of some sort of extremely powerful psychoactive, and b) looked to be 15 years old at the oldest. It’s one thing to be 15 and high in a group like that if the oldest person present is in their early twenties, but there were a half dozen others who certainly looked old enough to know better, even with a gray hair or two. Later after we left, we told each other that we were both having the same hallmark grownup thought looking around: “Oh, that’s not safe.”
As we were loading up to leave, we started to be somewhat set upon by the horde – “Got any booze? Got any weed? Got any smokes? Got any money?” It was like “The Walking Dead.” We had to get the hell out of there, and we did. We looked for a ranger station, a deputy, a state trooper, any sort of authority figure to report the situation to, especially that poor girl, but didn’t see one all the way to I5. My wife was incensed – “I’m a hippie weirdo! How dare they make me feel like a square?” For my part, we spent seven days in the middle of nowhere in bear and cougar country, and the only time I seriously felt threatened was in the midst of a bunch of feral hippies.
But I’d do it again, because it was a blast. And best of all, my girl and I learned that we traveled together very, very well. And we decided to travel together forever. So far, so good.
I’ve sort of accidentally driven a bunch of “famous” routes, and decided to make it less accidental and just seek out the best drives. Are they adventurous? …Maybe?
The first motoring adventure was to drive the Road to Hana. I was already in Maui, it made sense to drive the famous route and see what the fuss was about. It ended up being pretty awesome, but a lot of that could have something to do with Maui being pretty awesome.
The next year I drove the Ring of Kerry in County Kerry, Ireland. It was also pretty awesome, but the only real adventure was had in trying to not get hit by a bus on some super narrow roadways.
Since then, I’ve also driven the Icefields Parkway (so far, my favourite), and the Cabot Trail. Both of which are amongst the best roads to drive in Canada.
I have a few planned. I’ll likely be in Scotland next year, which naturally means driving the North Coast 500. Or perhaps the abriged version: Hammond’s PENIS287. The latter would make for some interesting conversations. I also plan to drive the full PCH on the US west coast while also seeing a baseball game for each west cost team. The ring road in Iceland is also at the top of my list.
Ring road around Iceland in a Dacia Duster. Camped out of it, forded (or should I say fjorded?) some rivers to get to the Highlands, spent two amazong weeks doing that.
Top craziest part was staying in the Westfjords. There was a tunnel between two towns. After taking it a couple times I saw on the map that there was a road on the coast so we went to take that. After turning on it there was a giant boulder in the right lane with just a small sign in Icelandic. Figured, must have fallen there off the hill which didn’t seem too far fetched there.
Started down the road, looking at the ocean which kept creeping closer to the other side of the road. Then to the shoulder and then the road was half gone! By this point we couldn’t turn around so kept plowing forward with my wife keeping a diligent eye out for falling rocks. At one point we had to drive onto the hill because there was almost no road left for us.
After a couple white knuckle miles we get to the othe end of the road and lo and behold, another boulder! Why they chose to only have a boulder on one side only and not a gate or maybe even another boulder! Not even a sign in any other language or with some form of road closed graphics.
Got to the other town and asked about the road and they said it had been closed because of rock slides and erosion, obviously. She was quite amazed we made it, while I’m sure thinking we were idiots.
We still laugh about it and wish we took photos instead of being too scared shitless.
I’ve long dreamed about a long slow tour of the the US Pacific coast, staying at state campgrounds along the way. Spots might be scarce though, I know even Nehalem Bay SP in Oregon is usually booked months out.
I’ve also thought about taking my Zero on a pilgrimage to the factory in Santa Cruz, but I’d have to truck it down there, or ride it 700 miles at 80 miles per 12 hours.
I think you can do it. Check the bicycle tour info too. There’s not only state parks, but also some national forest (dispersed camping is fine) and hostels (a number of old lighthouses on the coast are converted) and it would be an awesome trip.
Retraced the Bullitt chase route in and around SF. This was back in the internet 1.0 days so I had do my own research and cobble together my own map.
I also had the Lalo Schriffin soundtrack going, on CD. For those who know, the tune you’re thinking about right now is called “shifting gears.” Soo cool.
I’d love to visit some of the remaining bygone race shops/teams around the U.S. Have always wanted to see what’s left of Holman-Moody in North Carolina. It ran Ford’s NASCAR program and other stuff in the 60s, including taking part in the GT project, Carroll Shelby getting all the glory aside…
I took an F-Type R through Monument Valley (like within it not just on the highway past it) where even the SUV people were complaining about how awful the road was. Bottomed out 15 or 20 times, popped a fender loose, got some sweet pics
I think my best car adventure was at the start of COVID. No one was really going anywhere or doing anything. I convinced my wife that we needed a pickup truck. Not a new, massive one, but something from the 80s or 90s. Given that I came from a Dodge/Jeep family, it had to be either a Dakota or Ram. We both had family in the Tampa area, so we ended up buying 1 way plane tickets there, getting picked up and driven around while we value-hunted a Ram or Dakota. I ideally wanted something from the 90s or early 2000s. We ended up getting a 2002 V8 Dodge Dakota with 4 wheel drive (which has been handy in New Hampshire). I ended up next-day airmailing the title home to family to register it the next morning, then they send back the next day the plates, and we drove it home after I got it checked out. Six years later, I still drive it two or three days a week, to the dump, the store, or when we go skiing or biking. Such a fun roadtrip!
To me, “everyday” car adventures that break up everyday life, like your story, are among the best. There’s something about knowing you could easily do them as you please (compared with say something like driving to Tierra Del Fuego) that’s inspiring, reminding you both of a great reason for cars’ existence and of your own spirit’s appreciation of what they offer.
It was great. We knew that we had a certain amount of time to get there, find a truck, get plates, and then get home, but we could do whatever we wanted. We ended up driving all over the Tampa area to check out private sale trucks off a bunch of sites, found one I liked, got it back to the relatives house, sent the paperwork off for plates, and then hit the road once they arrived in the mail. We ended up going out of our way to visit a cousin in South Carolina, went across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel (which I had never driven through), and eventually got home to New Hampshire. The truck never put a toe out of line, and still is a great runner today with minimal work. Not that a 2002 Dakota is anything particularly special, but I have had people come up to me and tell me that mine looks amazing (and it really doesn’t the clearcoat got cooked off in Florida), but there is zero rust, and tell me if I ever want to sell, to see them.
Covid road trips were kind of weird and special. I travelled 100K+ air miles a year for work right through the pandemic – travel was surreal in general. I bought my ’11 128i convertible in Wichita KS the summer of 2020. Flew up there from FL, drove it to ME for the summer, then drove home to FL in the fall.
You are 100% right, the airport was different, and then getting on the road after being cooped up for a while was nice. I still look back really fondly on that trip.
I drove across country at the beginning of lockdown – From SF to LA to Virginia via Palm Springs, Grand Canyon, Amarillo, Little Rock and Knoxville.
Top down most of the way.
Lots of NPR on the satellite radio
Tons of toilet paper were found in a rest area in Oklahoma.
Some middle states don’t even have rest areas.
Which explains the smells.
I’ve never peed by the side of the road/behind gas stations & fast food joints more in my life.
My most recent adventure was a few years back I had to drive to Phoenix and checked the box in Google Maps to avoid highways. Taking the 2 lane backroads made the trip take 2 days but it was infinitely more fun than plodding along the boring and tedious I-10 in west Texas.
We did the ring road in Iceland… in the dead of winter. We go stranded for a day at Skaftafell NP because all the highways were closed due to wind. We had to park facing into it to keep from blowing over. I ended up having to back up about 1/4 mile in my tracks after some bad directions to a place to camp. It ended up being full adventure and more stressful driving than I anticipated.
But we saw incredible northern lights, ice climbed in a glacier crevasse, enjoyed natural hot springs in a snow shower, and the anarchy of fireworks in Reykjavik on new years.
Oh, just thought of this additional “adventure.” I drove home (SF Bay Area) from school (New Orleans) one summer in my hand-me-down VW cabrio. My girlfriend (now wife) and my cat were along for the trip, but being a manual I would be doing all the driving. It involved hiding the cat and sneaking him into hotels and even billeting because we had student budgets.
Around El Paso the clutch started getting stiff and long so I took it to a shop and they said it had a damaged clutch cable and housing and I could hang out for a week for them to get the part or I could try not using the clutch very much. Without money and time to spend in El Paso, I elected to press on. I ended up using the clutch only about 5 times each day from EP to SF, just to get the car rolling matching RPMs to both up and down shift all the way home. We made it, and that’s probably the first time I thought I could really drive a car.
We did the ring road a few years ago end of March/early April I loved it. We only had a 3 hr delay from a blizzard in the pass out of Bakkagerði. I loved the phone app with the plow locations and number of cars that have passed in the last hr and last 24 hrs around the Island. I LOVED Iceland.
Several years ago I decided to drive a couple hours south for an opportunity to legally drive a younger-than-25 Fiat Panda owned by a guy I knew from the internet who was road tripping it around the US. That taste of forbidden fruit was oh so sweet! Fast forward a few years and I found myself in England, buying my internet friend’s Fiat Marea to import back to the US. I called it “taking European delivery” just for the laughs. Then I made a whole bunch more friends over there and now I’m pretty much resigned to annual trips to the UK for the rest of my life to go on silly adventures with my car friends!
This is the way.
Bonding with overseas Internet friends over weird interests and then visiting them is the BEST. “Wanna see those draft horses in person?” was what it took to get my spouse and I over to Europe and it’s been a joy ever since.
My long suffering husband has reached the point where he just lets me run off to foreign countries to meet up with Italian car dudes he knows exclusively as names attached to cars. Then he has to put up with absolutely batshit phone calls stupid early in the morning like “hey honey, can we make an offer on this rusty Matra Bagheera?” Will he someday go to Europe with me? Possibly. But he’s probably not going to have a lot of fun if he’s thrown in with my slightly insane social life…
Aww. Back home, Dear Spouse often goes camping while I watch the critters and wrench, but we each find things to enjoy when travelling–weird beers and offbeat museums for me, weird beers and lorge horses for her.
Three days at Team O’Neil between jobs a few years back was more fun than seemed legal. It wasn’t that expensive compared with other fancy vacations, and it met my primary vacation requirement of making me completely forget what I do for a living.
And even though the curriculum said we wouldn’t graduate from Fiestas to the four-wheel drive turbo stuff, the instructors are there for fun, so they pulled out some Subies and a couple E30’s on our last day. For years afterward, I would see a Fiesta out of the corner of my eye and think “race car!”
That would be the dream.
My wife and I did a trip through the San Juan mountain in 2024 hitting some of the major passes and remote roads. Last year we went to Moab and drove white rim along with several other days of remote exploring. Both were amazing trips. A have a long list of others hoping to do one a year money and health allowing
I’ve done a few – UK to Romania in unsuitable vehicles a couple of times (broke down a couple of times too), driving my Mom from NY to Graceland and back in a Crown Vic, and several trips driving a band’s tour bus through Europe. Also I recently rented a Peugeot 205 from Turo and drove it up the Pryenees.
The one trip I would love to make would be to drive through to Tehran. I did a lot of business with Iran in my first job and it’s always been somewhere I wanted to visit.
Back in the very early 90s when i was stationed in Japan, a buddy took me up into the mountains one evening where guys were driving very fast and very sideways, bumper to bumper, along the narrow, curving mountain roads where there are no guardrails – just the sheer rock face on one side and a steep drop off on the other.
On one curve, the guys would park their Sylvias, RX7s and Corolla Truenos near a set of kohee (coffee) vending machines between runs up and down this stretch of road. We hung out there in my old Prelude w/ them, and when I found someone who spoke a little English, he told me what they were doing was called “Durifuto”
Ever since then – and from my experiences driving all around Tokyo (including the C1 Shuto Expressway at night) – I’ve wanted to get a good car to drive from Hokkaido all the way down to Ishigaki City, staying in various ryokan along the way.
I’ve read Craig Mod’s newsletter for a long time, and always dreamed of doing a multi-day walk through Japan like he talks about in his book Kissa by Kissa.
I have two.
One is to drive from Florida to the arctic circle in Alaska.
The other is to do a homage pilgrimage across the united states to all the places great authors have lived, John Jerome, Michael Perry, Granville King.
The TransAmerican trail would be nice, too.
Off roading/camping with my dad in The Maze in Utah. Not super technical but high stakes if you break down or run out of gas. My old VehiCross was a champ in the narrow switchbacks.
I would love to visit the maze area we were in Moab last fall but didn’t have time.
I’ve done two that come up over and over.
The first was running as a co-driver in the Irish Mini Owner’s Club (IMOC) Malin-to-Mizen rally for three years around 2010. I totally stumbled into this by staying at the BnB run by one of the organizers one year and he invited me on the route scouting drive and then the actual rally.
The whole thing is an absolute riot, with roughly 50 classic minis gathering at one end of Ireland, then driving to the other end the next day (about 14-15 hours) and pulling an all-nighter in a hotel pub to celebrate before driving home the next day. This is all done in some very elderly Minis in various stages of, well, everything, and sticks almost exclusively to back roads.
One of these trips involved a driver from Sweden teaching us all Swedish drinking songs as we drunkenly watched the sun come up in an Irish pub.
The last one I went on was in a rather elderly Mini with a very small motor and an automatic transmission that went into 4th at about 25mph whether you wanted it to or not. It also had a top speed (eventually) of 62mph. We drove it flat out the entire way – just floor the accelerator and hang on. We also counted things we had passed. We passed 11 of them, including a horse cart somewhere in the middle of Ireland. HILARIOUS fun.
The other was driving from one end of I-90 in Boston to the other end in Seattle (yes, you can really do that). This is interesting enough, but I did it in a 26 foot Penske box truck with all of our stuff, and we drove it up to Mount Rushmore just for the hell of it.
I only recommend one of these as an epic trip.
Nothing crazy. However my regular commute as a teen was crossing the Sierra Nevada mountains twice a day 4 days a week, 9 months of the year, so I learned quite a bit about driving AWD and RWD vehicles in the snow and ice.
Also been on my fair share of road trips.
The summer of 2017, my brother and I took our grandma’s 1970 Westphalia VW Bus down from Denver, CO to Tucumcari, NM for a Route 66 festival, then drove across the southwest to the Blackstar Campout/El Prado Show and Shine in Socal the next weekend. All in all, we did about 3,000 miles in the bus and only slept indoors two nights.
Then, in the fall of 2020, the same brother bought a ’74 beetle from a friend of mine out here in CO, and after about two months straight of maintenance and tweaking, he and I drove it to his home in Chicago with two of our other friends. A beetle is shockingly comfortable for four grown adults, but we were still glad to have our rental Kia Optima for the three of us to drive back home in, especially after the bug lost 4th gear on day 2 crossing the bridge into Illinois.
Been on:
Cape York – offroading to the northern tip of Australia
“The Big Lap” around the perimeter of Austalia
Kagoshima to Oma, south to north of mainland Japan
Give anything to do / bucket list:
Tangier to Cape Town
Alaska to Argentina via the Darien Gap
Dalton Hwy
Cannonball Run
Idaho to Alaska – “AKA Alaska or Bust” as done by Mike Finnegan and David Freiburger from Roadkill ( I can’t remember the highway name(s))
I could go on with all the adventures that I want to do, oh to dream……