It seems to happen to all of us: We get cooped up for way too long, and suddenly the only cure for cabin fever is the sound of an open throttle. The feel of the rushing road. The belief that there’s still something out there to explore.

At Article, it’s what we believe in. Adventure. Moving. Taking new ground. So as we gear up for the bright thrill of what’s to come, we spent some time with Andy Reider—a motorcycle enthusiast, a modern day pioneer.

So, Andy, what’s a guy with a bike doing right now?

The thaw—just hanging on for it. And getting ready. Last week, a bunch of us pulled out our gear from last season, wheeled out the bikes, studied maps and routes. This summer, we’re heading out to the Rockies for a 10 day, off-road adventure, crossing Colorado and the Rockies.

I want to be like, “Yeah, yeah!” but that sounds…hard. Amazing, but hard.

[Laugh] Maybe it’s why we ride. I think we all crave adventure. We want to force ourselves into something challenging and see if we can actually pull it off. So much of daily life doesn’t function that way. It’s more predictable, readymade…safe.

You’re not counting on AAA out there, are you.

Nah. They’re not coming.

And the coffee’s…instant?

These trips are more about the beer and bourbon.

Makes sense, Andy. So take us back to the beginning. You had to start somewhere, buy your first bike.

I was hooked after watching Long Way Round—a documentary about Ewan McGregor and his friend, Charley Boorman, who did this insane bike trip around the world. I bought my first bike right after that, and ended up doing a solo trip a few months later. I went across 14 countries, from the Arctic Circle to Argentina.

Wow. And now you’ve moved from solo trips to a huge group of friends who all ride.

It spreads fast.

Tell us what it’s like when you’re on the road.

You’re exposed. There’s no window between you and the experience, no car chassis. You get every sound, every degree drop or rise in temperature, and every danger. The rest of our lives are so buffered. We’re rarely too hot, too cold, rarely soaking wet, rarely limited in movement. Riding isn’t like that. It’s not buffered.

And you’re basically carrying everything you need on your back.

You’re self-contained. Tents, camp stoves, maps, gear. And I think the best part is that you find out what you’re made of. Nothing about it is easy. Tires will flat. Bikes break down. Someone will want to bail and you have to rally back together. But the best stories start when something goes wrong.


And at the end of the day?

At the end of a day we’re throwing some sticks on a fire, setting up the campsite, reliving stories. That time belongs to you—to nurse sore bones and tired bodies, to celebrate and share stories of the day’s challenges. But not like a status update. It’s with a laugh and a swig of something cold and brown. That time together with friends around the campfire’s half the reason for doing all this.

Sign us up, Andy.

Seriously, you’ll love it. Hang around someone who has a bike and will show you the ropes. Take a course, get a license. Then head out to Daniel Boone National Forest or Red River Gorge. You don’t have to do the Rockies. Or if you’re not ready for the big investment of a bike—because it is one—just start more simply! Grab some friends, and head out with the goal of doing something new. The road is open.

Go forth and find your adventure, friends. Try something that scares you, that inspires you, that pushes you.

Then come back and tell us about it.