"That Ain't no Mule, Jethro!"

“Fly rod, check; old military style binoculars, check; spare fly rod reel and line, check; complete first-aid kit with blow-up leg and arm stints (left and right), check; sleeping bag, check; air mattress, check; air mattress pump, check; tent, check…” Countless hours going through all the equipment I would be bringing on my first major cross-country bike trip from Atlanta to the great southwest in 1986! Spring time rainy days in Georgia provided me too much time to over analyze all the possible scenarios and situations that could come up and account for all the absolutely needed equipment - I just had to bring. “Spare tent pegs, check; spare hiking boots, check; flashlight and spare batteries (12), check; rain gear, check; 3 pairs of gloves, check; thermal underwear, check…”

My riding buddy Rupert drove up the driveway to my A-frame in the woods and appeared at the door. I had the entire living room taken over with all the equipment spread-out. Rupert waved his hand at the stuff, “You going over this again?”

“Yes, you never can be too careful”.

“You got too much stuff,” Rupert stated.

“No way”, I replied, “I have already weeded out all that stuff in the kitchen!”

Rupert lit his pipe and asked, “have you weighed it all yet?”

I hesitated, an alarm bell went off in my head, and should I tell him the truth… that I hadn’t? I felt my cheeks blushing, he knew I hadn’t. “No,” I said.

“You need to, that stuff looks really heavy – will be like driving cross-country with an Opera singer on the back, only it won’t bitch!”

“I will, yeah, that makes sense.”

Three weeks later we packed the night before our trip. Both of us excited as hell. So excited neither one of us could sleep much. When I packed my 1986 Honda Shadow VT1100, I had to use about 12 bungee cords to hold all the stuff I was bringing, as well as set my shocks at their highest setting. I had weighed it. It weighed a lean 100 lbs.! This after many nights of eliminating a lot of equipment since Rupert mentioned weighing it all.

After 1 week of the trip and setting up camp, I consistently wondered how Rupert had his tent and spot all set-up and was relaxing with his pipe while I was still setting up my area. I was a seasoned camper, but not off my bike. I later noticed that Rupert had all of his equipment packed (which was a lot smaller than mine) by compartments and the stuff he needed first was easiest to get too.

Rupert noticed my frustration after night 3 and in his southern charming way said, “That ain’t no mule, Jethro!”

I have since refined my motorcycle camping trips and learned to compartmentalize and run really lean. Use back packers rules and equipment. I no longer carry fly rods and spare everything. Necessity - really means what I need, not what I think I need. Years later though I look back at Rupert’s words of wisdom and still smile. I also remember lots of the older bikers looking at me when I pulled up on that trip, they chuckled or at least it earned me a raised Spock eyebrow. I also recall how tired I was after dragging 100 lbs 6000+ miles on that trip on a 1200 cc cruiser. Rupert was right it wasn't a mule!