The demand for saddlebags has been phenomenal. More and more motorcycle enthusiasts are opting for Saddlebag supports systems online. These systems make use of unique form-fitted and shape-retentive parts that are exact in size and shape. Your lower bag can retain its shape irrespective of any mishaps. These systems ensure quality, durability, warranty and performance. A saddlebag is a great addition to your motorcycle.

You can browse the Web to know about the best deals on saddlebag restoration. You can have your saddle bag restored for a great price. Saddlebags are commonly used to carry stuff. They ensure ease, comfort and convenience while driving. You can check with the various online stores that offer a wide range of saddlebag accessories like drink holders and pouches. The Internet is the best source for saddlebags. You can shop for premier saddlebags like the Harley motorcycle saddlebags. Shopping online saves you a great deal of time and money. Place your order online and save yourself a headache! You don’t need to interact with pesky salespeople or stand in long queues now. You can expect competitive prices and top notch services online.

Riding a motorcycle is a pleasurable experience. You can make it even more pleasurable by opting for saddlebag restoration systems. In new bags, the inserts will prevent the leather saddlebag from shrinking, sagging, or losing its shape. In older bags, the shape can be restored using patented inserts as shapers and stiffener supports. This is why the demand for saddlebag stiffeners and saddlebag lid inserts is on the rise. Browse the Web to avail of competitive deals. There are saddlebag support systems that are specially designed for Heritage Softail and Harley Deuce motorcycles. These systems are very useful. Having adequate storage while riding your motorcycle will make your journey more fun and exciting!

Saddlebag accessories look great! You can buy saddlebag kits and have them installed by professionals. Reinforced saddlebags deals can be found online. Your old, drab saddlebag can be turned into a spanking new bag. In other words, you can enhance the overall look and feel of your worn out saddlebag. Saddlebag support systems are used for such purposes. Saddlebags are available in eye catching colors and sizes online. Not only do they look attractive, they can also be used to support your back. They are easy to clean as well. You don’t have to worry about their quality and durability. They don’t fade easily. Saddlebags are a hot trend these days!

Saddlebag support systems have assumed more importance than ever. Saddlebags are a rage! Proper care and maintenance of saddlebags is a must. It will prevent the bag from shrinking and distortion. Saddlebags need to be conditioned every two months throughout the year. To ensure your saddlebag is in great condition, opt for quality leather kits online.

The important features of saddlebag really should consist of mounting hardware, lck capability, detach ability, speedy release buckles, good form and reinforcement. Whilst thinking of the detachability, most of you’d not prefer to see the saddle luggage attached in your bicycle usually or you may like to hold it along with you although you proceeding in your function location or out for shopping. In such instances, the saddle container you might be making use of need to be effortlessly detachable in a very few seconds. The greatest component with the removable leather bags is its locking facility. Having a lck would undoubtedly make you tension free of charge. It’s apparent that you simply would want any of one’s things in to be secure even within your absence. I would advise you to first use a mounting hardware and then install your saddle plastic carrier bag. It’ll come using the saddle bags you buy and it really is the duty from the seller to supply it.

The dream of riding a street-bike cruiser now days is fairly a bit inexpensive as prices are going high. The principal disadvantage with travelling on the bike is its lack of a storage unit. You may just need saddle males saddlebags or perhaps a sort of the tank plastic carrier bag to stuff your issues. Both have their personal advantages and disadvantages. It mainly depends around the sort of the motorcycle. Should you occur to possess a cruiser, then the best alternative could be to possess a saddle plastic carrier bag or some baggage luggage. Nevertheless, for that sports activities bikes, probably the most suitable would be the tank bags.

A saddleman container would well go well with to get a cruiser. There may be a wide number of saddle guys leather bags with various types available. These are essentially made up of synthetic material or some type of leather-based. The newest ones are produced up of a tough lining inside which provides the container a defined form. Although picking up the saddle males saddlebags to your motor period, choose the one which suits you the best. Baggage made up of studs, fringes and locks are also available. Most from the saddle guys leather bags are created in such a way that they can easily be connected towards the motor cycle and can effortlessly are dismantled. It’s advisable to go for these sorts of baggage, in which in it is useful to you when you’re parking your motor cycle away from your work place. Nevertheless, if you might be heading to get a fixed 1, be sure that you just lock your saddlebag.

It is good to add the equipment to your bike which offers an add-on to its features. It may be to get a type, but it offers some makes use of also. Some of the accessories with luggage carriers and covers make your motor circuit seem stylish as properly as with some additional features. The motor period Saddlebags give an added benefit in your automobile. The great high quality ones offer layout, function and quality and it’s up to you to choose up the right one for your vehicle.

Every biker would want his car to seem fashionable all the occasions when he is on a ride. A rack or perhaps a baggage can take over the style and beauty of the car. The Simple Fast lock Rack system has grow to be common on this strategy. Unlike the other racks available inside the marketplace, the SW Motech Speedy lock Rack can simply detached from the engine circuit in a couple of seconds. It’s compatible as compared for the other makers, as it might be simply removed and has no effect on the aerodynamics. Additionally, the rack and case may be removed when not in use. The engine cycle Leather Bags are also easy removable making it much more flexible for use. There may be also a variety of designs for the motor cycle Leather Bags from which you’ll be able to select the 1 of your option to go well with your requirements and comforts and also that goes along with the motorcyle you own.

You can find producers who’ve continued to create the saddle bags with new kinds and style. The saddleman saddle luggage reviews also show its demand in the present trend. They also supply the brackets which helps you in fixing the saddle container in your motor circuit effortlessly. In the event you choose a tough saddle bag then you ought to check if it can be locked and dismantled effortlessly from the motor circuit and it really should also be water resistant. Size of the container also should be checked as it tends to be inaccurate. This is mostly simply because of that the hard baggage have a tough lining which can not be extended and it lowers the storage area where as a soft bag can broaden and offer a bigger storage area.

There’s a wide variety of saddlemen saddle luggage available with diverse kinds and distinctive features. Some of the tough saddle guy saddle bags accessible within the marketplace are Auburn leather-based legend luggage, boss baggage, patriot tough bags, Corbin beetle luggage, givi baggage cruiser etc. The saddle luggage use a tendency of giving a classic look and hence for that sports bike riders, it is preferable to go for leather-based luggage. They also have side pockets which offer provision for extra storage space. Thus they offer large storage capacity as well as the saddle guys saddle bags reviews for these type of baggage were excellent. Most from the tank baggage have the transporting handles that make it easy to hold it as well as you wherever you travel.

Keyword search strategies are critical to acquire the most value from your keywords. Enlisting the appropriate strategies can help you save time and therefore money. When you are using a keyword search strategy that is too prevalent, your keyword research becomes irrelevant for front page optimization.

Within this article, you will discover and gain knowledge of how to research keywords effectively in order to establish a precise keyword search strategy. With a proper keyword search strategy, your ROI and profits will be maximized. And you can begin expanding your niche keywords with these strategies today.

Keyword Search Strategy #1: The first rule to research keywords effectively is to use more specified keywords, not broad/general keywords. General keywords usually have a very low conversion rate. On the other hand, specific, highly targeted keywords drive superior caliber traffic to your website or offer. Just place yourself into your customers’ mind and think out of the box to implement this strategy.

For instance, if you are promoting motorcycles, you will obtain a very broad range of un-targeted traffic. As an alternative, the specific keywords may well be: “Harley Davidson motorcycles”, “Suzuki motorcycle parts”, or “motorcycle saddle bags”. Each of these phrases are much more specific and will bring in targeted traffic.

Keyword Search Strategy #2: We can sum this one up in two words, solutions and benefits. People want solutions to their problems and they want to know how they will benefit from your offer. With this piece of information, the benefits of each offer must be revealed within your keywords. You have to research keywords based on how your customer benefits from your product, rather than features of products. This keyword search strategy is the most essential area used for uncovering niche keywords in a given market.

Case in point, the highly relevant targeted keywords for selling motorcycles could be: “cheapest Harley Davidson motorcycles”, “affordable Suzuki motorcycle parts” and “discount motorcycle saddle bags”.

Keyword Search Strategy #3: An alternative significant keyword search strategy to connect with a wider range of buyers would be to list all of a products’ benefits. Within those benefits, you will discover the niche keywords your customers are searching by using fantastic keyword software.

For illustration, the major benefits of motorcycles may well be: “fast Harley Davidson motorcycles”, “heated motorcycle gloves”, and “discount motorcycle seat covers”. These are benefits that your customer is searching for online.

Keyword Search Strategy #4: This strategy is a terrific alternative keyword search strategy in order to uncover highly searched relevant keyword phrases. Using your keyword research tools, search for your competitors’ product name to reveal a nice list of niche keywords.

For example, if you are promoting “Harley Davidson motorcycles”, notable alternative keywords may perhaps be: “Honda motorcycles”, “Yamaha motorcycles”, or “Suzuki motorcycles”.

Keyword Search Strategy #5: Another strategy is to use the URL domain names and sub domain names of your competition. You would be surprised at the level of untapped traffic one may find here.

For instance, if you were promoting Harley Davidson motorcycles, you could plug in your competitors URL to uncover more niche keywords.

Keyword Search Strategy #6: Add some action words to your keywords for superior conversion rates. Start you keyword phrase with “buy”, “purchase”, “order”, “shop for”, and “look for”. These are very targeted keywords which will lead to superior conversion rates.

Keyword Search Strategy #7: Get the best keyword search tools and strategies you can comfortably fit in your budget. Quality keyword tools can absolutely help you generate a massive list of niche keywords. With the proper keyword tools, you will save a lot of time in lieu of other marketing activities.

Your keyword search tools have got to be reliable otherwise your hard work will be useless. Each keyword search tool has its own advantages and dis-advantages, but I can assure you that there are a few skillful keyword tools available today that will be of extreme value to your keyword search strategy. I favor two keyword search tools over the hundreds of others on the market because: 1) they meet my criteria for a superior keyword tool, and 2) they are easy to export data to a spread sheet (trust me, it’s a real time saver). The two I recommend are Keyword Elite 2.0 and Buyer Keywords Generator.

You never know when the unexpected might happen while you’re out on your motorcycle, and a mechanical failure is certainly not out of the question. This is one reason that you always need to have a few of the more important tools along with you at all times. Motorcycle tool bags can help make this happen.

When you purchase a motorcycle, chances are there are not going to be many options when it comes to being able to store your personal belongings, tools, equipment, clothing, or other important items that you might need or want to bring along. It is for this reason that you may need to purchase leather luggage so you can tote these types of things on long trips or even short jogs across town.

Motorcycle tool bags are a great piece of gear that allows bikers to bring along the important tools that they need to be able to perform basic maintenance tasks such as changing spark plugs, tightening loose bolts and nuts, adjusting loose tension and timing settings, and much more. Without tool bags, bikers would have to resort to taking up extra space in saddle bags or other travel bags with are typically not intended for storing tools.

Leather tool bags can also be used to store other personal belongings that you may not have room for anywhere else. Many riders like to attach their tool bags inside the windshield so they have easy access to the items they need. Others like to locate them on the front forks just about the front fender so they are out of the way, but still easily accessible.

If you constantly find yourself wondering what you should do with your wallet, camera, cell phone, or other small miscellaneous items, then perhaps a motorcycle tool bag would be the best place to store those items.

On the pampas the horizons seem to flee. The llamas are golden, the clouds impossibly white. We let the bikes run. Suddenly, the view changes. The lead bike rises above the line of the horizon, a rider flails through the air 10 feet above the ground. This is not good. Jeff has gone off the road at 70 mph. Katie goes into paramedic mode, calming Jeff, running her hands up his spine, probing, checking ribs, legs, arms. The fall has ripped his touring jacket from shoulder to waist, peeling the back protector to reveal the We-Build-Bridges T-shirt. He is scuffed, but within moments is giggling, flashing the “I Can’t Believe I’m Still Alive” grin that is his default expression.

Ryan pulls the bike up and starts collecting the bits scattered across the desert. The luggage is destroyed. The right handlebar is bent almost to the tank. Mirrors, turn signals, front fender snapped off in a microsecond. Both wheel rims have dents. Incredibly, it still runs. He puts the parts that still work back on the bike, takes it for a test ride. It will last another 7,000 miles. Our motto: We Will Make This Work.

Jeff tells what happened. A small bird had hopped into his path. The next thing he knew he was off the road, launched into a culvert. “I thought, wow. I’m Superman. Oh look, there’s the bike. Oh look, there’s the bird…” In a field strewn with jagged boulders, he had landed on sand.

THE BEGINNING

The trip came up long before I was ready. A phone call, an invitation to tag along with a group of BMW riders embarking on a five-week, 8,000-mile journey from Peru to Virginia. I would document the ride, a fundraising effort for a group that builds footbridges in remote areas of the world. I’d been thinking about a long ride, something open-ended, without support vehicles, the experience of being totally “out there.” This seemed to fit the bill. A third of the distance around the world with complete strangers. I had a brand-new BMW F 800 GS and it was thirsty. If there was a point of no return, I crossed it before I hung up the phone.

First, the riders. Ken Hodge is an insurance benefits specialist and member in good standing of the Newport News Rotary Club. He discovered motorcycles late in life, when he bought a bike, rode it across country in 48 hours, then began to dream of a bigger adventure, something for a good cause.

He recruited his daughter Katie (a fire department paramedic), his stepson Ryan (a mechanic and dirt-bike rider) and Ryan’s best friend Jeff. I’m impressed by their preparations. They ride old BMW R 1150s and F 650 singles. Ryan had spent a year renewing the bikes, poking about the inner recesses, memorizing the shop manuals for each machine. They would bring enough tools and parts to handle almost every emergency.

INTO THE ANDES

We stop at Nazca to view the ancient figures scratched in the rocky desert. From the top of a tower we can see a figure with raised hands. Just to the north, the Pan-American Highway bisects the figure of a lizard, decapitating the creature. Bound by the tight focus of brass transit levels, the surveyors who laid out the road were not even aware of the sacred relics, discovered when aerial flight became common.

I realize that we are as blinded by focus, by concentration as the surveyors were by their instrument. The trip will be a series of images, sidelong glances, captured at speed.

Descendants of the people who built the Inca trail, Peruvian builders know their stuff. But it’s the tracery, the managed flow of momentum, that has our respect. The road ascends ancient seabeds, hills covered with talus, fractured dry ridges with cornices sculpted by landslides. Midday, we find ourselves on a high pampas inhabited by thousands of vicuña and alpaca. In the distance, our first sight of snowcapped peaks. There are stone corrals on nearby slopes, one-room huts. In the middle of this giant nowhere, a lone shepherd walking on the side of the hill.

We discover that the distances on maps are those of the condor. We travel incredibly twisted roads that sometimes take a hundred turns (and several miles) to get from one ridge to the next. The map indicates towns, but to our dis-may not all have gas stations. We buy gas in a small outpost from a woman who ladles it out of a bucket with a coffee pot, then pours it through a plastic, woven kitchen funnel into our tanks. The whole town watches. We push on into the descending night. We make it to the next set of lights, 20 or so buildings on two streets, find a hotel, and park our bikes in an enclosed backyard with dogs, chickens, dead birds, plastic bottles and an animal hide tanning on the wall. Instead of the usual exit signs, the restaurant in our hotel has green arrows that say “ESCAPE.” It is not a criticism of the food. The forces that drive the Andes skyward have been known to demolish whole towns.

The next morning we fire up the bikes, and ascend into the Andes on a perfect road. We are fluid, going through hairpins, double hairpins, squared-off turns—climbing the flank of a single 4,700-meter peak. I can think of only one word: delicious. We move through mist and low-hanging clouds, with shafts of sunlight slanting into rainbows. The valleys below are green and fertile, a mix of old Inca terracing and more modern farms. Slender eucalyptus trees line the road, providing shade for huts with red tile roofs. A girl tends a flock of goats (identified with colorful ribbons) on a green meadow, book in hand. At one point I think the clouds above have parted to reveal patches of blue, but when I look up I see that it is snow-covered rock, another 3,000 or 4,000 feet of mountain. On a turnoff near the top of the peak we find a dozen or so tiny shrines, little churches decorated with flowers and ribbons and photographs of loved ones. The site of a bus plunge. On a hillside across the valley paragliders work the thermals, the canopies looking like bright-colored eyebrows, or ostentatious angels.

We share the road with vicuña, alpaca, llama, sheep, goats, dogs, roosters, pigs, horses and cows. On a narrow lane near Abancay, a bull tries to gore me as I pass, charging and making a hooking motion with its horns. One night after the sunset, I round a corner and a beautiful roan stallion wheels in the light from our bikes, filling the lane with wide eyes and flashing hoofs, inches from my head. I realize that riding sweep poses a risk. The novelty of our passing bikes wears off, and the local wildlife has time to react.

Entering Cusco, Ryan asks directions, a girl directs us onto a narrow cobblestone street, slick with rain, as steep as a bobsled run. The rocks are turned on their side, like teeth. The knobbies have no traction whatsoever. The people on the sidewalks frantically wave their hands, indicating that the road gets steeper. I touch my brake and the bike goes down, pinning my leg against the curb, a quarter of an inch shy of a fracture. The bike behind me goes down. It is harrowing. The locals help us lift the bikes, get them turned uphill.
A police escort leads us to a hotel that lets us store the motorcycles in the lobby. Without bothering to shower, we make our way to the Norton Rats Bar on the northeast corner of the central plaza. The owner, an American expatriate, once piloted a Norton to the tip of the continent. The walls are lined with photos from the trip. Above the bar are mounted heads, the four past American presidents, with their best known soundbites: I am not a crook. I did not inhale. I do not recall. We will find WMD in Iraq. We sip beers, trade stories, trying to reassemble the past few days. The dead battery. The punctured radiator. The roadside repairs. The incredible rush of unrelenting beauty.

Three days of desert north of Lima generate a few details. The total absence of life, the three colors of sand. Young boys pedaling tricycle ice cream carts in the middle of nowhere. We enter a zona de nimbleras, but instead of fog we find a 60-mph crosswind that sends a layer of grit skittering across the road like a special effect in a Steven Spielberg movie. Two lanes narrow to one covered by blowing sand, thick enough to swallow the front tire, deep enough that a road grader prepares to clear the drifting sands.

We decide to try a secondary route through the hills. We turn onto a dirt road and everything changes. We pass through villages alive with people, dogs, tiny three-wheel taxis fashioned from old motorcycles. Kids on motorscooters ride past, snapping pictures with their cell phones. The road throws split-finger fastballs at the bash plate that clang as loud and adamant as the sound of an aluminum bat. We slosh our way through gravel, gray dust on everything, parts falling off, teeth rattling. Oh yes, this is what we wanted.

ECUADOR

In Macara, we sit on the sidewalk near a minor town square, eating pork cooked by a rotund woman in a yellow dress. Her daughter brings us three beers (giant) at a time, and keeps the empties in a milk crate for accounting later. Boys on motorbikes cruise the quiet streets, the lucky ones with girls on the back. Across the square, girls sit on benches. Jeff experiences a cultural revelation, that South American girls have breasts, and wear tight pants…and “Hey, I think she likes me.”

Our dinner companion is David McCollum, an American expatriate that Ryan had met on ADVrider.com. He tells us stories about riding the Ecuadoran Andes, and gives us tips on handling roadblocks. “Act Stupid. Do not try to communicate in Spanish. Say ‘No fumar Espanol’ (I don’t smoke Spanish). If all else fails, have Katie cry.” Er, Katie does not do “cry.” The next day he leads us into the Ecuadoran Andes.

Impressions: Razor-sharp ridges. Lumpy, conical outcroppings. Monasteries on top of hills. Slopes so steep they will never be worked by machine. A couple standing above dark earth, the man holding a wooden hoe, the woman a bag of seeds. A woman on horseback, black and red cape, a whip coiled in one hand. Trees. Cloud. Mist. The feel of a Japanese block print, the ones that suggest the road goes to infinity.

I had introduced the group to a family tradition. When we travel, we end each day by recounting high point, low point and funny bone. After this day, I will add “Pucker moments.” Trucks hurtle out of the fog, running without lights, signaled only by the ghostly wave pushed before. They appear in our lane without warning or reason. We go through construction sites where the road narrows to one lane that offers no escape route. One side seems hideously close to the new concrete, studded with rebar fangs. The other side is precipice. Pucker moments? Take your pick. Sometimes it’s the surface, a half mile of muddy bobsled run, of loose gravel, of gushing water, the bike handling like a loose bowel. Twice, we round a corner and find no road, the surface having caved in, sucked away by underground torrents. Katie’s moment comes when a cow, with no footing, scrambles into the path of her bike. For Jeff, it is passing a truck that suddenly swerves to avoid a pothole, the trailer swinging toward him like a baseball bat.

We spend two days in Cuenca, a 500-year-old city surrounded by mountains. Ken phones ahead and discovers that the ship that was to have taken us and the bikes from Ecuador to Panama doesn’t exist (had we had drugs or been illegal aliens, no problem, but there are no accommodations for turistas with motorcycles). We ask David for help. While we ride to Quito, he will work the phones. He finds a contact, a guy known for getting things done when no one else can. We meet up with this air freight magician at The Turtle’s Head, a biker bar in Quito. At midnight.

The next morning we ride our bikes to the military section of the airport, then into a refrigerated warehouse. The steel floor is covered with embedded ball bearings, across which slide steel palettes. For the next three hours we wrestle with tiedowns. A skinny man dressed entirely in black oversees the operation, taking pictures of the bikes with a digital camera, making sure batteries are disconnected, tires are deflated. Drug-sniffing dogs poke their noses into every recess.

Then, just like that, our bikes are gone, on their way to Panama in the belly of an airplane.

CENTRAL AMERICA

Central American countries are the size of postage stamps. You can cross them in a day and a half, only to spend a half day at customs and immigration. Ken had prepared Xerox copies of all our documents (passports, licenses, titles, registration, VIN numbers) and had them notarized. As he works with the official in the air-conditioned office, we sit in 100-degree heat and watch ants carry grains of dirt from beneath the ground. We will become used to the demands for more copies, the freelance currency traders waving bills in front of our faces, the young hustlers willing to facilitate the process, the food vendors waiting for starvation to overcome caution about local cuisine.

Before embarking on this trip, I’d read State Department travel advisories. The section on Peru warned that five Americans had died from liposuction in Lima. OK, was that consensual liposuction, or were there gangs of thugs wielding vacuum cleaners with sharp pointy attachments? Virtually every entry on Central American countries warned about fake checkpoints, bandits in uniform, soldiers in the middle of nowhere.

Along the roadside are signs with a blood-red eye and the warning vigilantes. We round a corner to find two soldiers walking patrol, miles from the nearest town. They ask for paperwork. A surge of adrenaline turns my mouth to cotton. David, our friend in Ecuador had given us good advice: Act stupid. Smile. We seem to have a natural talent for that. No fumar Espanol. After inspecting our paperwork, they wave us on. In the next few weeks we will be stopped repeatedly, sniffed by dogs, x-rayed, wanded with devices that look like carving knives with car antennas where the blade should be. At border crossings, guys in jumpsuits and facemasks spray our bikes with liquids designed to kill stowaway bugs too lazy to cross borders under their own power. There are soldiers at every gas station, armed attendants at convenience stores and restaurants, guys with shotguns on Pepsi trucks. We are aware of poverty, a culture of criminal opportunity. The night air can strip your bike naked, if you don’t find a hotel with secure parking.

These countries are linked by soil to the United States, and our culture has rattled its way through. Central America is a motorbike culture. Whole families whiz by, perched on narrow seats, wearing helmets with missing visors. In Panama City we run into a group of Harley riders. The bikes have exhausts the size of howitzers, the horns blare a soundtrack of special effects. They surround us, and ask if we want to join their regular weekend burger run. We follow them to an exclusive country club just beyond the Mira Flores locks on the Panama Canal. They send us off with directions to a bed-and-breakfast up the coast. I fall asleep that night in a hammock, a bottle of beer still clutched in my hand, the blades of a fan whirring softly overhead.

Central America has a different feel than Peru and Ecuador, a different gravity. We move through verdant countryside at a speed that would be natural in Virginia or Colorado or California. The vegetation looks like fireworks, only green. Here clusters of one plant have taken over a hillside. There a different species explodes. A slow war.

We have been in the saddle for three weeks. Nothing can break our pace. We abandon the Pan-American Highway and find roads that make it seem like you have two flat tires, ones that seem like you’re riding on an oil spill. There are narrow, one-vehicle-at-a-time bridges of mismatched narrow-gauge rails, or on lesser roads, steel plates tossed across rotting timbers. The terrain is a geological mash-up, without the power of the Andes, but enough unexpected elevation change and tight corners to make for an interesting ride. Towns announce themselves with speed bumps and potholes that can swallow bikes whole. I see road signs unique to the country, silhouettes of odd animals. A snake crossing. A jaguar crossing. In Costa Rica we hit a 30-mile stretch of gravel road, and the world becomes dust. The bikes come alive. We romp, skitter, wander, trusting the gyroscope. I try to read the strange shadows that appear in the dust—bicyclists, ATVs, huge trucks with no lights—not always accurately. There are breaks in the dust cloud when I see fields filled with white cattle and at their feet white egrets. The sky tinges pink with light from a setting sun. A feeling almost like peace.

We spend a night in Arsenal, a destination resort for adrenaline junkies with discretionary income. Posters advertise canopy walks, zipline rides through the rain forest, the chance to rappel down waterfalls, night hikes to lava flows, kayaking, canoeing. We ignore the offers, saddle up and ride into the rain forest. A group of meercats swarms down an embankment onto the road. Monkeys cavort in the trees overhead. A tourist zips by on a steel cable casting a shadow on the road, a blur of color in the sky. It looks like someone was hanging laundry and forgot to take his or her clothes off.

Nicaragua has its own feel. We ride past volcanoes so large they make their own weather, the crowns hidden beneath wide-brimmed clouds. Don Quixote in his barber bowl hat. The streets are clogged with horsedrawn buggies. We find a hotel near the town square. Across the street from the hotel is a shop offering galactic Internet. The traditional culture is slowly losing ground to bandwidth. Relay towers compete with church steeples, billboards for cell service block oversized statues of saints on nearby hilltops.

We visit a bridge, built by Ken’s organization, in a remote area of Honduras. At the turnoff from the main road I think we are entering a drainage ditch. Indeed, during the rainy season the road is impassable, the clay surface too slick for traction. Now, the bikes tackle a road gouged by erosion, working their way around rocks exposed by the force of water. This is by far the most technical riding of the trip.

The 40-mile road will take five hours to cross. The clawmark gullies pull Ken’s bike out from under him; Katie rides into a ditch and smashes her bike’s windscreen. Even Ryan has trouble. The river, when we reach it, is intimidating. I take pictures of the bikes as they come through, pushing a bow wave over front wheels, jouncing up the rocks on the other side. If a trip can be reduced to 1D250th of a second, a single moment seared in memory, these pictures would be it.

We cross into Guatemala, and spend the night with Hemingway impersonators and Jimmy Buffet wannabes in Rio Dulce. The hotel has a wonderful tacky feeling. The overhead fan showers sparks. The power goes off at regular intervals, as does the water. If you want a shower, step outside. We spend a long day riding through rain. The water destroys one of my cameras, turning the LCD into an aquarium. Hey, I have enough pictures.

ALMOST THERE

At the first town over the Mexican border, we stop for directions on a crowded street. A truck sideswipes my bike, snags a sidecase, and drags me down. I’m unhurt, but the windscreen and instrument panel lie in fragments. The police, when they arrive, are the opposite of helpful. We collect the broken bits, duct tape everything in sight, and fire it up. We are unstoppable. We ride on, but the mood of the ride changes and the calendar beckons. Katie, Ryan and Jeff have to be back by a certain date, or they lose their jobs.

The ride becomes time vs. distance, a push that blurs most of Mexico, and a final border crossing into the United States.

We hurtle across long roads, nursing bikes that are showing signs of wear. Ken’s bike is missing a sidestand. Ryan’s helmet a visor. Katie treats her BMW’s busted windscreen like a badge of honor, but still, a 75-mph headwind is exhausting. Jeff’s bike has chewed the rear sprocket to nubbins, the chain is beginning to slip. It will wind up in a U-Haul 100 miles from home.

Five weeks after departing, we see the lights of Newport News. As they enter the city, Ken, Ryan and Katie spread across the road, side by side, arms raised. The long ride is over.

The demand for saddlebags has been phenomenal. More and more motorcycle enthusiasts are opting for Saddlebag supports systems online. These systems make use of unique form-fitted and shape-retentive parts that are exact in size and shape. Your lower bag can retain its shape irrespective of any mishaps. These systems ensure quality, durability, warranty and performance. A saddlebag is a great addition to your motorcycle.

You can browse the Web to know about the best deals on saddlebag restoration. You can have your saddle bag restored for a great price. Saddlebags are commonly used to carry stuff. They ensure ease, comfort and convenience while driving. You can check with the various online stores that offer a wide range of saddlebag accessories like drink holders and pouches. The Internet is the best source for saddlebags. You can shop for premier saddlebags like the Harley motorcycle saddlebags. Shopping online saves you a great deal of time and money. Place your order online and save yourself a headache! You don’t need to interact with pesky salespeople or stand in long queues now. You can expect competitive prices and top notch services online.

Riding a motorcycle is a pleasurable experience. You can make it even more pleasurable by opting for saddlebag restoration systems. In new bags, the inserts will prevent the leather saddlebag from shrinking, sagging, or losing its shape. In older bags, the shape can be restored using patented inserts as shapers and stiffener supports. This is why the demand for saddlebag stiffeners and saddlebag lid inserts is on the rise. Browse the Web to avail of competitive deals. There are saddlebag support systems that are specially designed for Heritage Softail and Harley Deuce motorcycles. These systems are very useful. Having adequate storage while riding your motorcycle will make your journey more fun and exciting!

Saddlebag accessories look great! You can buy saddlebag kits and have them installed by professionals. Reinforced saddlebags deals can be found online. Your old, drab saddlebag can be turned into a spanking new bag. In other words, you can enhance the overall look and feel of your worn out saddlebag. Saddlebag support systems are used for such purposes. Saddlebags are available in eye catching colors and sizes online. Not only do they look attractive, they can also be used to support your back. They are easy to clean as well. You don’t have to worry about their quality and durability. They don’t fade easily. Saddlebags are a hot trend these days!

Saddlebag support systems have assumed more importance than ever. Saddlebags are a rage! Proper care and maintenance of saddlebags is a must. It will prevent the bag from shrinking and distortion. Saddlebags need to be conditioned every two months throughout the year. To ensure your saddlebag is in great condition, opt for quality leather kits online.

The important features of saddlebag really should consist of mounting hardware, lck capability, detach ability, speedy release buckles, good form and reinforcement. Whilst thinking of the detachability, most of you’d not prefer to see the saddle luggage attached in your bicycle usually or you may like to hold it along with you although you proceeding in your function location or out for shopping. In such instances, the saddle container you might be making use of need to be effortlessly detachable in a very few seconds. The greatest component with the removable leather bags is its locking facility. Having a lck would undoubtedly make you tension free of charge. It’s apparent that you simply would want any of one’s things in to be secure even within your absence. I would advise you to first use a mounting hardware and then install your saddle plastic carrier bag. It’ll come using the saddle bags you buy and it really is the duty from the seller to supply it.

The dream of riding a street-bike cruiser now days is fairly a bit inexpensive as prices are going high. The principal disadvantage with travelling on the bike is its lack of a storage unit. You may just need saddle males saddlebags or perhaps a sort of the tank plastic carrier bag to stuff your issues. Both have their personal advantages and disadvantages. It mainly depends around the sort of the motorcycle. Should you occur to possess a cruiser, then the best alternative could be to possess a saddle plastic carrier bag or some baggage luggage. Nevertheless, for that sports activities bikes, probably the most suitable would be the tank bags.

A saddleman container would well go well with to get a cruiser. There may be a wide number of saddle guys leather bags with various types available. These are essentially made up of synthetic material or some type of leather-based. The newest ones are produced up of a tough lining inside which provides the container a defined form. Although picking up the saddle males saddlebags to your motor period, choose the one which suits you the best. Baggage made up of studs, fringes and locks are also available. Most from the saddle guys leather bags are created in such a way that they can easily be connected towards the motor cycle and can effortlessly are dismantled. It’s advisable to go for these sorts of baggage, in which in it is useful to you when you’re parking your motor cycle away from your work place. Nevertheless, if you might be heading to get a fixed 1, be sure that you just lock your saddlebag.

It is good to add the equipment to your bike which offers an add-on to its features. It may be to get a type, but it offers some makes use of also. Some of the accessories with luggage carriers and covers make your motor circuit seem stylish as properly as with some additional features. The motor period Saddlebags give an added benefit in your automobile. The great high quality ones offer layout, function and quality and it’s up to you to choose up the right one for your vehicle.

Every biker would want his car to seem fashionable all the occasions when he is on a ride. A rack or perhaps a baggage can take over the style and beauty of the car. The Simple Fast lock Rack system has grow to be common on this strategy. Unlike the other racks available inside the marketplace, the SW Motech Speedy lock Rack can simply detached from the engine circuit in a couple of seconds. It’s compatible as compared for the other makers, as it might be simply removed and has no effect on the aerodynamics. Additionally, the rack and case may be removed when not in use. The engine cycle Leather Bags are also easy removable making it much more flexible for use. There may be also a variety of designs for the motor cycle Leather Bags from which you’ll be able to select the 1 of your option to go well with your requirements and comforts and also that goes along with the motorcyle you own.

You can find producers who’ve continued to create the saddle bags with new kinds and style. The saddleman saddle luggage reviews also show its demand in the present trend. They also supply the brackets which helps you in fixing the saddle container in your motor circuit effortlessly. In the event you choose a tough saddle bag then you ought to check if it can be locked and dismantled effortlessly from the motor circuit and it really should also be water resistant. Size of the container also should be checked as it tends to be inaccurate. This is mostly simply because of that the hard baggage have a tough lining which can not be extended and it lowers the storage area where as a soft bag can broaden and offer a bigger storage area.

There’s a wide variety of saddlemen saddle luggage available with diverse kinds and distinctive features. Some of the tough saddle guy saddle bags accessible within the marketplace are Auburn leather-based legend luggage, boss baggage, patriot tough bags, Corbin beetle luggage, givi baggage cruiser etc. The saddle luggage use a tendency of giving a classic look and hence for that sports bike riders, it is preferable to go for leather-based luggage. They also have side pockets which offer provision for extra storage space. Thus they offer large storage capacity as well as the saddle guys saddle bags reviews for these type of baggage were excellent. Most from the tank baggage have the transporting handles that make it easy to hold it as well as you wherever you travel.

Keyword search strategies are critical to acquire the most value from your keywords. Enlisting the appropriate strategies can help you save time and therefore money. When you are using a keyword search strategy that is too prevalent, your keyword research becomes irrelevant for front page optimization.

Within this article, you will discover and gain knowledge of how to research keywords effectively in order to establish a precise keyword search strategy. With a proper keyword search strategy, your ROI and profits will be maximized. And you can begin expanding your niche keywords with these strategies today.

Keyword Search Strategy #1: The first rule to research keywords effectively is to use more specified keywords, not broad/general keywords. General keywords usually have a very low conversion rate. On the other hand, specific, highly targeted keywords drive superior caliber traffic to your website or offer. Just place yourself into your customers’ mind and think out of the box to implement this strategy.

For instance, if you are promoting motorcycles, you will obtain a very broad range of un-targeted traffic. As an alternative, the specific keywords may well be: “Harley Davidson motorcycles”, “Suzuki motorcycle parts”, or “motorcycle saddle bags”. Each of these phrases are much more specific and will bring in targeted traffic.

Keyword Search Strategy #2: We can sum this one up in two words, solutions and benefits. People want solutions to their problems and they want to know how they will benefit from your offer. With this piece of information, the benefits of each offer must be revealed within your keywords. You have to research keywords based on how your customer benefits from your product, rather than features of products. This keyword search strategy is the most essential area used for uncovering niche keywords in a given market.

Case in point, the highly relevant targeted keywords for selling motorcycles could be: “cheapest Harley Davidson motorcycles”, “affordable Suzuki motorcycle parts” and “discount motorcycle saddle bags”.

Keyword Search Strategy #3: An alternative significant keyword search strategy to connect with a wider range of buyers would be to list all of a products’ benefits. Within those benefits, you will discover the niche keywords your customers are searching by using fantastic keyword software.

For illustration, the major benefits of motorcycles may well be: “fast Harley Davidson motorcycles”, “heated motorcycle gloves”, and “discount motorcycle seat covers”. These are benefits that your customer is searching for online.

Keyword Search Strategy #4: This strategy is a terrific alternative keyword search strategy in order to uncover highly searched relevant keyword phrases. Using your keyword research tools, search for your competitors’ product name to reveal a nice list of niche keywords.

For example, if you are promoting “Harley Davidson motorcycles”, notable alternative keywords may perhaps be: “Honda motorcycles”, “Yamaha motorcycles”, or “Suzuki motorcycles”.

Keyword Search Strategy #5: Another strategy is to use the URL domain names and sub domain names of your competition. You would be surprised at the level of untapped traffic one may find here.

For instance, if you were promoting Harley Davidson motorcycles, you could plug in your competitors URL to uncover more niche keywords.

Keyword Search Strategy #6: Add some action words to your keywords for superior conversion rates. Start you keyword phrase with “buy”, “purchase”, “order”, “shop for”, and “look for”. These are very targeted keywords which will lead to superior conversion rates.

Keyword Search Strategy #7: Get the best keyword search tools and strategies you can comfortably fit in your budget. Quality keyword tools can absolutely help you generate a massive list of niche keywords. With the proper keyword tools, you will save a lot of time in lieu of other marketing activities.

Your keyword search tools have got to be reliable otherwise your hard work will be useless. Each keyword search tool has its own advantages and dis-advantages, but I can assure you that there are a few skillful keyword tools available today that will be of extreme value to your keyword search strategy. I favor two keyword search tools over the hundreds of others on the market because: 1) they meet my criteria for a superior keyword tool, and 2) they are easy to export data to a spread sheet (trust me, it’s a real time saver). The two I recommend are Keyword Elite 2.0 and Buyer Keywords Generator.

You never know when the unexpected might happen while you’re out on your motorcycle, and a mechanical failure is certainly not out of the question. This is one reason that you always need to have a few of the more important tools along with you at all times. Motorcycle tool bags can help make this happen.

When you purchase a motorcycle, chances are there are not going to be many options when it comes to being able to store your personal belongings, tools, equipment, clothing, or other important items that you might need or want to bring along. It is for this reason that you may need to purchase leather luggage so you can tote these types of things on long trips or even short jogs across town.

Motorcycle tool bags are a great piece of gear that allows bikers to bring along the important tools that they need to be able to perform basic maintenance tasks such as changing spark plugs, tightening loose bolts and nuts, adjusting loose tension and timing settings, and much more. Without tool bags, bikers would have to resort to taking up extra space in saddle bags or other travel bags with are typically not intended for storing tools.

Leather tool bags can also be used to store other personal belongings that you may not have room for anywhere else. Many riders like to attach their tool bags inside the windshield so they have easy access to the items they need. Others like to locate them on the front forks just about the front fender so they are out of the way, but still easily accessible.

If you constantly find yourself wondering what you should do with your wallet, camera, cell phone, or other small miscellaneous items, then perhaps a motorcycle tool bag would be the best place to store those items.

On the pampas the horizons seem to flee. The llamas are golden, the clouds impossibly white. We let the bikes run. Suddenly, the view changes. The lead bike rises above the line of the horizon, a rider flails through the air 10 feet above the ground. This is not good. Jeff has gone off the road at 70 mph. Katie goes into paramedic mode, calming Jeff, running her hands up his spine, probing, checking ribs, legs, arms. The fall has ripped his touring jacket from shoulder to waist, peeling the back protector to reveal the We-Build-Bridges T-shirt. He is scuffed, but within moments is giggling, flashing the “I Can’t Believe I’m Still Alive” grin that is his default expression.

Ryan pulls the bike up and starts collecting the bits scattered across the desert. The luggage is destroyed. The right handlebar is bent almost to the tank. Mirrors, turn signals, front fender snapped off in a microsecond. Both wheel rims have dents. Incredibly, it still runs. He puts the parts that still work back on the bike, takes it for a test ride. It will last another 7,000 miles. Our motto: We Will Make This Work.

Jeff tells what happened. A small bird had hopped into his path. The next thing he knew he was off the road, launched into a culvert. “I thought, wow. I’m Superman. Oh look, there’s the bike. Oh look, there’s the bird…” In a field strewn with jagged boulders, he had landed on sand.

THE BEGINNING

The trip came up long before I was ready. A phone call, an invitation to tag along with a group of BMW riders embarking on a five-week, 8,000-mile journey from Peru to Virginia. I would document the ride, a fundraising effort for a group that builds footbridges in remote areas of the world. I’d been thinking about a long ride, something open-ended, without support vehicles, the experience of being totally “out there.” This seemed to fit the bill. A third of the distance around the world with complete strangers. I had a brand-new BMW F 800 GS and it was thirsty. If there was a point of no return, I crossed it before I hung up the phone.

First, the riders. Ken Hodge is an insurance benefits specialist and member in good standing of the Newport News Rotary Club. He discovered motorcycles late in life, when he bought a bike, rode it across country in 48 hours, then began to dream of a bigger adventure, something for a good cause.

He recruited his daughter Katie (a fire department paramedic), his stepson Ryan (a mechanic and dirt-bike rider) and Ryan’s best friend Jeff. I’m impressed by their preparations. They ride old BMW R 1150s and F 650 singles. Ryan had spent a year renewing the bikes, poking about the inner recesses, memorizing the shop manuals for each machine. They would bring enough tools and parts to handle almost every emergency.

INTO THE ANDES

We stop at Nazca to view the ancient figures scratched in the rocky desert. From the top of a tower we can see a figure with raised hands. Just to the north, the Pan-American Highway bisects the figure of a lizard, decapitating the creature. Bound by the tight focus of brass transit levels, the surveyors who laid out the road were not even aware of the sacred relics, discovered when aerial flight became common.

I realize that we are as blinded by focus, by concentration as the surveyors were by their instrument. The trip will be a series of images, sidelong glances, captured at speed.

Descendants of the people who built the Inca trail, Peruvian builders know their stuff. But it’s the tracery, the managed flow of momentum, that has our respect. The road ascends ancient seabeds, hills covered with talus, fractured dry ridges with cornices sculpted by landslides. Midday, we find ourselves on a high pampas inhabited by thousands of vicuña and alpaca. In the distance, our first sight of snowcapped peaks. There are stone corrals on nearby slopes, one-room huts. In the middle of this giant nowhere, a lone shepherd walking on the side of the hill.

We discover that the distances on maps are those of the condor. We travel incredibly twisted roads that sometimes take a hundred turns (and several miles) to get from one ridge to the next. The map indicates towns, but to our dis-may not all have gas stations. We buy gas in a small outpost from a woman who ladles it out of a bucket with a coffee pot, then pours it through a plastic, woven kitchen funnel into our tanks. The whole town watches. We push on into the descending night. We make it to the next set of lights, 20 or so buildings on two streets, find a hotel, and park our bikes in an enclosed backyard with dogs, chickens, dead birds, plastic bottles and an animal hide tanning on the wall. Instead of the usual exit signs, the restaurant in our hotel has green arrows that say “ESCAPE.” It is not a criticism of the food. The forces that drive the Andes skyward have been known to demolish whole towns.

The next morning we fire up the bikes, and ascend into the Andes on a perfect road. We are fluid, going through hairpins, double hairpins, squared-off turns—climbing the flank of a single 4,700-meter peak. I can think of only one word: delicious. We move through mist and low-hanging clouds, with shafts of sunlight slanting into rainbows. The valleys below are green and fertile, a mix of old Inca terracing and more modern farms. Slender eucalyptus trees line the road, providing shade for huts with red tile roofs. A girl tends a flock of goats (identified with colorful ribbons) on a green meadow, book in hand. At one point I think the clouds above have parted to reveal patches of blue, but when I look up I see that it is snow-covered rock, another 3,000 or 4,000 feet of mountain. On a turnoff near the top of the peak we find a dozen or so tiny shrines, little churches decorated with flowers and ribbons and photographs of loved ones. The site of a bus plunge. On a hillside across the valley paragliders work the thermals, the canopies looking like bright-colored eyebrows, or ostentatious angels.

We share the road with vicuña, alpaca, llama, sheep, goats, dogs, roosters, pigs, horses and cows. On a narrow lane near Abancay, a bull tries to gore me as I pass, charging and making a hooking motion with its horns. One night after the sunset, I round a corner and a beautiful roan stallion wheels in the light from our bikes, filling the lane with wide eyes and flashing hoofs, inches from my head. I realize that riding sweep poses a risk. The novelty of our passing bikes wears off, and the local wildlife has time to react.

Entering Cusco, Ryan asks directions, a girl directs us onto a narrow cobblestone street, slick with rain, as steep as a bobsled run. The rocks are turned on their side, like teeth. The knobbies have no traction whatsoever. The people on the sidewalks frantically wave their hands, indicating that the road gets steeper. I touch my brake and the bike goes down, pinning my leg against the curb, a quarter of an inch shy of a fracture. The bike behind me goes down. It is harrowing. The locals help us lift the bikes, get them turned uphill.
A police escort leads us to a hotel that lets us store the motorcycles in the lobby. Without bothering to shower, we make our way to the Norton Rats Bar on the northeast corner of the central plaza. The owner, an American expatriate, once piloted a Norton to the tip of the continent. The walls are lined with photos from the trip. Above the bar are mounted heads, the four past American presidents, with their best known soundbites: I am not a crook. I did not inhale. I do not recall. We will find WMD in Iraq. We sip beers, trade stories, trying to reassemble the past few days. The dead battery. The punctured radiator. The roadside repairs. The incredible rush of unrelenting beauty.

Three days of desert north of Lima generate a few details. The total absence of life, the three colors of sand. Young boys pedaling tricycle ice cream carts in the middle of nowhere. We enter a zona de nimbleras, but instead of fog we find a 60-mph crosswind that sends a layer of grit skittering across the road like a special effect in a Steven Spielberg movie. Two lanes narrow to one covered by blowing sand, thick enough to swallow the front tire, deep enough that a road grader prepares to clear the drifting sands.

We decide to try a secondary route through the hills. We turn onto a dirt road and everything changes. We pass through villages alive with people, dogs, tiny three-wheel taxis fashioned from old motorcycles. Kids on motorscooters ride past, snapping pictures with their cell phones. The road throws split-finger fastballs at the bash plate that clang as loud and adamant as the sound of an aluminum bat. We slosh our way through gravel, gray dust on everything, parts falling off, teeth rattling. Oh yes, this is what we wanted.

ECUADOR

In Macara, we sit on the sidewalk near a minor town square, eating pork cooked by a rotund woman in a yellow dress. Her daughter brings us three beers (giant) at a time, and keeps the empties in a milk crate for accounting later. Boys on motorbikes cruise the quiet streets, the lucky ones with girls on the back. Across the square, girls sit on benches. Jeff experiences a cultural revelation, that South American girls have breasts, and wear tight pants…and “Hey, I think she likes me.”

Our dinner companion is David McCollum, an American expatriate that Ryan had met on ADVrider.com. He tells us stories about riding the Ecuadoran Andes, and gives us tips on handling roadblocks. “Act Stupid. Do not try to communicate in Spanish. Say ‘No fumar Espanol’ (I don’t smoke Spanish). If all else fails, have Katie cry.” Er, Katie does not do “cry.” The next day he leads us into the Ecuadoran Andes.

Impressions: Razor-sharp ridges. Lumpy, conical outcroppings. Monasteries on top of hills. Slopes so steep they will never be worked by machine. A couple standing above dark earth, the man holding a wooden hoe, the woman a bag of seeds. A woman on horseback, black and red cape, a whip coiled in one hand. Trees. Cloud. Mist. The feel of a Japanese block print, the ones that suggest the road goes to infinity.

I had introduced the group to a family tradition. When we travel, we end each day by recounting high point, low point and funny bone. After this day, I will add “Pucker moments.” Trucks hurtle out of the fog, running without lights, signaled only by the ghostly wave pushed before. They appear in our lane without warning or reason. We go through construction sites where the road narrows to one lane that offers no escape route. One side seems hideously close to the new concrete, studded with rebar fangs. The other side is precipice. Pucker moments? Take your pick. Sometimes it’s the surface, a half mile of muddy bobsled run, of loose gravel, of gushing water, the bike handling like a loose bowel. Twice, we round a corner and find no road, the surface having caved in, sucked away by underground torrents. Katie’s moment comes when a cow, with no footing, scrambles into the path of her bike. For Jeff, it is passing a truck that suddenly swerves to avoid a pothole, the trailer swinging toward him like a baseball bat.

We spend two days in Cuenca, a 500-year-old city surrounded by mountains. Ken phones ahead and discovers that the ship that was to have taken us and the bikes from Ecuador to Panama doesn’t exist (had we had drugs or been illegal aliens, no problem, but there are no accommodations for turistas with motorcycles). We ask David for help. While we ride to Quito, he will work the phones. He finds a contact, a guy known for getting things done when no one else can. We meet up with this air freight magician at The Turtle’s Head, a biker bar in Quito. At midnight.

The next morning we ride our bikes to the military section of the airport, then into a refrigerated warehouse. The steel floor is covered with embedded ball bearings, across which slide steel palettes. For the next three hours we wrestle with tiedowns. A skinny man dressed entirely in black oversees the operation, taking pictures of the bikes with a digital camera, making sure batteries are disconnected, tires are deflated. Drug-sniffing dogs poke their noses into every recess.

Then, just like that, our bikes are gone, on their way to Panama in the belly of an airplane.

CENTRAL AMERICA

Central American countries are the size of postage stamps. You can cross them in a day and a half, only to spend a half day at customs and immigration. Ken had prepared Xerox copies of all our documents (passports, licenses, titles, registration, VIN numbers) and had them notarized. As he works with the official in the air-conditioned office, we sit in 100-degree heat and watch ants carry grains of dirt from beneath the ground. We will become used to the demands for more copies, the freelance currency traders waving bills in front of our faces, the young hustlers willing to facilitate the process, the food vendors waiting for starvation to overcome caution about local cuisine.

Before embarking on this trip, I’d read State Department travel advisories. The section on Peru warned that five Americans had died from liposuction in Lima. OK, was that consensual liposuction, or were there gangs of thugs wielding vacuum cleaners with sharp pointy attachments? Virtually every entry on Central American countries warned about fake checkpoints, bandits in uniform, soldiers in the middle of nowhere.

Along the roadside are signs with a blood-red eye and the warning vigilantes. We round a corner to find two soldiers walking patrol, miles from the nearest town. They ask for paperwork. A surge of adrenaline turns my mouth to cotton. David, our friend in Ecuador had given us good advice: Act stupid. Smile. We seem to have a natural talent for that. No fumar Espanol. After inspecting our paperwork, they wave us on. In the next few weeks we will be stopped repeatedly, sniffed by dogs, x-rayed, wanded with devices that look like carving knives with car antennas where the blade should be. At border crossings, guys in jumpsuits and facemasks spray our bikes with liquids designed to kill stowaway bugs too lazy to cross borders under their own power. There are soldiers at every gas station, armed attendants at convenience stores and restaurants, guys with shotguns on Pepsi trucks. We are aware of poverty, a culture of criminal opportunity. The night air can strip your bike naked, if you don’t find a hotel with secure parking.

These countries are linked by soil to the United States, and our culture has rattled its way through. Central America is a motorbike culture. Whole families whiz by, perched on narrow seats, wearing helmets with missing visors. In Panama City we run into a group of Harley riders. The bikes have exhausts the size of howitzers, the horns blare a soundtrack of special effects. They surround us, and ask if we want to join their regular weekend burger run. We follow them to an exclusive country club just beyond the Mira Flores locks on the Panama Canal. They send us off with directions to a bed-and-breakfast up the coast. I fall asleep that night in a hammock, a bottle of beer still clutched in my hand, the blades of a fan whirring softly overhead.

Central America has a different feel than Peru and Ecuador, a different gravity. We move through verdant countryside at a speed that would be natural in Virginia or Colorado or California. The vegetation looks like fireworks, only green. Here clusters of one plant have taken over a hillside. There a different species explodes. A slow war.

We have been in the saddle for three weeks. Nothing can break our pace. We abandon the Pan-American Highway and find roads that make it seem like you have two flat tires, ones that seem like you’re riding on an oil spill. There are narrow, one-vehicle-at-a-time bridges of mismatched narrow-gauge rails, or on lesser roads, steel plates tossed across rotting timbers. The terrain is a geological mash-up, without the power of the Andes, but enough unexpected elevation change and tight corners to make for an interesting ride. Towns announce themselves with speed bumps and potholes that can swallow bikes whole. I see road signs unique to the country, silhouettes of odd animals. A snake crossing. A jaguar crossing. In Costa Rica we hit a 30-mile stretch of gravel road, and the world becomes dust. The bikes come alive. We romp, skitter, wander, trusting the gyroscope. I try to read the strange shadows that appear in the dust—bicyclists, ATVs, huge trucks with no lights—not always accurately. There are breaks in the dust cloud when I see fields filled with white cattle and at their feet white egrets. The sky tinges pink with light from a setting sun. A feeling almost like peace.

We spend a night in Arsenal, a destination resort for adrenaline junkies with discretionary income. Posters advertise canopy walks, zipline rides through the rain forest, the chance to rappel down waterfalls, night hikes to lava flows, kayaking, canoeing. We ignore the offers, saddle up and ride into the rain forest. A group of meercats swarms down an embankment onto the road. Monkeys cavort in the trees overhead. A tourist zips by on a steel cable casting a shadow on the road, a blur of color in the sky. It looks like someone was hanging laundry and forgot to take his or her clothes off.

Nicaragua has its own feel. We ride past volcanoes so large they make their own weather, the crowns hidden beneath wide-brimmed clouds. Don Quixote in his barber bowl hat. The streets are clogged with horsedrawn buggies. We find a hotel near the town square. Across the street from the hotel is a shop offering galactic Internet. The traditional culture is slowly losing ground to bandwidth. Relay towers compete with church steeples, billboards for cell service block oversized statues of saints on nearby hilltops.

We visit a bridge, built by Ken’s organization, in a remote area of Honduras. At the turnoff from the main road I think we are entering a drainage ditch. Indeed, during the rainy season the road is impassable, the clay surface too slick for traction. Now, the bikes tackle a road gouged by erosion, working their way around rocks exposed by the force of water. This is by far the most technical riding of the trip.

The 40-mile road will take five hours to cross. The clawmark gullies pull Ken’s bike out from under him; Katie rides into a ditch and smashes her bike’s windscreen. Even Ryan has trouble. The river, when we reach it, is intimidating. I take pictures of the bikes as they come through, pushing a bow wave over front wheels, jouncing up the rocks on the other side. If a trip can be reduced to 1D250th of a second, a single moment seared in memory, these pictures would be it.

We cross into Guatemala, and spend the night with Hemingway impersonators and Jimmy Buffet wannabes in Rio Dulce. The hotel has a wonderful tacky feeling. The overhead fan showers sparks. The power goes off at regular intervals, as does the water. If you want a shower, step outside. We spend a long day riding through rain. The water destroys one of my cameras, turning the LCD into an aquarium. Hey, I have enough pictures.

ALMOST THERE

At the first town over the Mexican border, we stop for directions on a crowded street. A truck sideswipes my bike, snags a sidecase, and drags me down. I’m unhurt, but the windscreen and instrument panel lie in fragments. The police, when they arrive, are the opposite of helpful. We collect the broken bits, duct tape everything in sight, and fire it up. We are unstoppable. We ride on, but the mood of the ride changes and the calendar beckons. Katie, Ryan and Jeff have to be back by a certain date, or they lose their jobs.

The ride becomes time vs. distance, a push that blurs most of Mexico, and a final border crossing into the United States.

We hurtle across long roads, nursing bikes that are showing signs of wear. Ken’s bike is missing a sidestand. Ryan’s helmet a visor. Katie treats her BMW’s busted windscreen like a badge of honor, but still, a 75-mph headwind is exhausting. Jeff’s bike has chewed the rear sprocket to nubbins, the chain is beginning to slip. It will wind up in a U-Haul 100 miles from home.

Five weeks after departing, we see the lights of Newport News. As they enter the city, Ken, Ryan and Katie spread across the road, side by side, arms raised. The long ride is over.