Many have written asking us to share photos and stories from our experiences with the celebration in Mexico known as Dia de Los Muertos, known to many Americans as Day of The Dead.  What I previously thought as only a 1-2 day event celebrating the lives of those who had passed is actually a 4-5 day celebration of food, music, Halloween and personal memorials throughout the cemeteries and towns of Mexico.  My original intent was to capture these events on camera, thinking it was the best way to tell the story.  I came out with a much different feeling, one that made me take a step back, take off my tourist hat, and not be that stranger who only values the festivities for its photo opportunities.  Yes, there was tremendous beauty, but it was much more than that.  It was about respect for the living as well as those who had passed.  Unbeknownst to me, I was to share in the festivities with my own bit of history.

It wasn’t until about a week ago that I let Terry in on a little something.  During our travels, I carry a small picture of my mom and dad from their wedding day from too many years ago.  With it safely tucked away in my riding jacket, I was waiting for the proper moment to share its meaning with my family.  Having had a kiddo in a Spanish-immersion elementary school, our family had learned about Dia de los Muertos and the value the Mexican culture has placed on this holiday.  While most of America considers death a tragic sentence, this culture celebrates the dead, bringing their memories back to life in food, stories and song.  Somehow, I wanted to be a part of this celebration of life.

Terry, Jack and I have spent many weeks riding past many beautiful cemeteries, all the shrines adorned in pictures and wreaths of flowers.  This wasn’t just a day; it was a life event.  All I could think while rolling was, “I have to capture this on camera. What a brilliant pictorial!”  My thoughts would change as the end of October drew closer and the crowds grew larger.  Through even the smallest of towns, the streets outside the cemetery walls were lined with cars, families carrying trays of food to the family site, children trailing along holding flowers and trinkets.  Even the dogs were in on this as they followed along in procession.  “This is like a grand party,” I thought.  “When we land, I’m going to grab the camera and follow along to capture these moments.”  It was after this fleeting thought that I witnessed a single moment that changed my mind.  As we passed the rows of cars and locals directing traffic, I saw to my left two young girls, sitting alone beside a headstone.  They weren’t celebrating.  They weren’t laughing.  They were having a moment alone, heads bowed.  Though I didn’t know what they were saying, I could read what their body clearly.  They were mourning.  This is the moment that changed my course.

Even though I was told by a few that it was okay to walk the cemeteries and photograph the event, I felt otherwise.  I didn’t want to be an observer.  I wanted to be a participant.

It was the afternoon of November 2nd when on a short walk, a flower caught my eye.  A glowing crimson hibiscus bloomed over my shoulder, perfect in color and design.  It was time to celebrate my mom.  Some of you may know my mom passed when I was 19, too young really at any age.  I took out the wedding photo from my pocket and lay it next to the flower, silent in my private moment.  The memory of those two girls remained close by.  That night, we cooked a grand feast with friends, our dessert consisting of looking at maps and Google searches.  This was my celebration.

Have I brought the room down too much?  Sorry.  I need to stop doing that!  I will tell you that we walked around Sayulita with our friends, Mike and Shannon, one night during this time, stopping at many of the private memorials setup along the sidewalks.  Okay, I took pictures of those.  Why?  They were such amazing displays of life for all to view with no one around to show us otherwise.  It was another lesson for this Trio – never let the memories of those who have passed fade into a headstone.  Keep them close and allow them to guide us through these tricky lives we lead.  Cheers.

By Sandy Borden

When crossing any border, you are immediately met with a whole new set of challenges. Where do I go? Where do I stay? Where do I eat? Why does it appear that there are no rules to passing or turning or even going straight?!? Your education begins now, class. Seasoned travelers know that when entering many countries, especially Mexico, you want to get over the border early, get your paperwork in order, and start heading south. You need to have AT LEAST your first night’s lodging planned as you’re going to be plain exhausted once you put down that kickstand. It’s a long day, but worth the mental gymnastics. So, having never been to mainland Mexico, we were expecting something like Baja with a splash of what we’ve been shown across every news and social media out there.   “You’re going to Mexico? Why?” is the question we were asked most often. The best question? “Are you bringing a gun?” Ah, hell no! That’s one we still chuckle about. It was a conscious choice to go through this unknown piece of property. It was time to come to our own conclusions, and, as always, we made sure every member of the Trio was on board. All were accounted for. It was time to venture south and learn about this country for ourselves. You may be surprised by what you read or it may just bring up more questions for later. If nothing else, I do hope you come out on the other end a wee bit wiser about our friends to the south. Enjoy.

Everyone goes fast, but you don’t get anywhere fast.

Speed limits are merely suggestions on most every stretch of road. If you don’t plan on going at least 20 MPH faster than the posted speed limit, prepare to be passed. Don’t fret when that large truck puts on his blinker to go around; he’s done this plenty of times and will probably wave as he passes.

Left turn signals have a whole new role

Mexican drivers have it down! I have a new found appreciation for driving in Mexico. Most of the roads are only one lane each way and there really aren’t enough roads that take you from place to place. Well, at least safe roads. The rule for passing or being passed is turning on that left signal. Want to pass? The trucker or vehicle will turn on the left signal when it is safe for you to pass, and they will leave it on for the duration of the pass. Yes, it’s a wee bit scary on those narrow highways, but it’s the only way to get anywhere. Get used to it.

You’re always “ON” while riding

As a rider, your senses are naturally on high alert. Now, take that spidey sense and multiply it by 100. That’s how much you will need when it comes to making it safely to your destination. Why, you ask? Let me just give you a brief explanation of why – rocks, dogs, squished dogs, people, burros, slow trucks, stopped trucks, potholes, random road construction, chickens, horses, goats, cement topes, metal topes, dips, locked gates, water crossings, mud crossings, sand, gravel. You get the picture.

120 miles is a looooong day on the road

See above.

Your senses are heightened

I’m not talking just about the need to pay attention to the road. I’m talking about the smell of mesquite burning, the ever-changing landscape, the aroma of fresh roadside tortillas, the pine forests and the always-present diesel exhaust. There so much to take in, no wonder you can’t move once you put the kickstand down!

You’re exhausted after a day of riding

Again, see above.

Lots and lots of buzzards

Never have we seen so many of these huge birds flapping about! Granted, there’s always something for them to dine upon on the side of the road, but WOW! And, here’s a little story you might enjoy. Terry and Jack were rolling in front of me on the ride to Hidalgo del Parral one fine morning when out of nowhere, a very large buzzard comes flying out of the right corner and swoops down on them, ready to carry them off for their next meal. Just as I started to freak out, buzzard No. 2 comes swooping over MY right shoulder, talons out and next to my helmet. NO JOKE! I rolled on the throttle as fast as I could, sca-reeming into the com as Jack’s head jerked around to see his mother almost get swept away. Seriously, talons…

And, butterflies…and, bees.

As I write this, I’m about an hour in from my first bee sting of the trip. Seems the little bugger got into my coat somewhere along the way to Durango and decided to nest near my left armpit. Can’t wait to swell with that one! I’ll have ‘fat old lady’ arm here in about 24 hours. Awesome. And, the butterflies are not afraid to fly right into your helmet. Visors closed, people!

Leave your ego and “It’s all about me attitude” at the border!

Those two things have no place in this country. Nobody cares about the new iWhatever you’re always staring at; no one cares what happened on the last episode of “The Real Honey Boo Boo Kardashians”. Whenever you cross the border, you immediately become an ambassador for your country. Remember that and act accordingly.

Is that bus coming right for me?!?

Yes, it is. But, not to worry as it will pull back into its own lane before you become a mark on the grill. Most all of the roads are very narrow, making it a bit hard at times for larger vehicles. Just stay calm and press on.

The people are very proud of their country

Mexicans are a very proud culture. Everyone claims to have the best homemade tortillas or salsa, that we will not find anything better in the next state or country. The cities are full of life and music and art. You have to be willing to settle into the culture and take it all in. Locals will tell you what you need to see or experience before you move onto the next town.

They are so excited to have Americans visiting!

They love us here! No, I’m not kidding. We’ve already experienced so many tales of how excited the locals are to have Americans visit their country. They want to know where you’re from, why you’re here and where you will be visiting next.

You will eventually find yourself eating a meal in someone’s personal kitchen

This is something you will come to enjoy once you get over the initial weird feeling of eating in a stranger’s house. Those little buildings may look closed, but, most likely, there are not. If the sign says “Abierto”, they are open for business. Also, you may run across a home with a small list next to the front screen announcing the meals offered for the day. You will see items like tacos, tortas and hamberguesas, all items carefully made right in the kitchen by what you are sure is your Mexican grandmother. It’s cheap, it’s good, and leaves you wanting more of those authentic moments.

Smile and wave when you pass by locals

A genuine smile and a hearty wave go far in this country. This is especially true, as you must remember, they don’t see too many Americans rolling through some of these parts. It’s up to you to be an ambassador of your country and lead by example.

If they don’t smile and wave back, you don’t stop!

Other travelers told us early in the trip that if people don’t smile or wave back, DO NOT stop in that town. That is considered a place not to be trusted, therefore, continue on your journey to the next town.

Unless you plan to take toll roads the entire time, you’re guaranteed to be riding off-road at some point in your journey

If you’re dirt adverse, it’s time to get out there and prepare for a few dusty, muddy trails before you head south. Most every bike can easily handle the roads, but these shortcuts may last for up to 6 miles, and you need to be comfortable having rather large trucks and buses passing you by. It’s just the rules of the road. Scary at times? I’d be lying if I said no. But, with proper training and time off the road, you’ll be just fine.  Also, I highly recommend investing in a heavy-duty skid plate like the ones we run from Black Dog Cycle Works. It will save your under carriage!

The terrain can change almost immediately

Now is the time to erase your memories of the dry, desert dust bowl that has been represented in far too many movies. Our first couple of days found us climbing thousands of feet into the wonder that is the Sierra Madres. The twists and turns of this constant climb shows you not only the mandarin colored flowers that dotted the mountainsides, but you eventually found yourself at 8,000 feet, praying you’ll acclimate as soon as possible. At that elevation those first few days, if something had chased me, I’d be buzzard fodder.

Many people we talk to have lived in the states at one time or another

Oh, SO excited to share their American stories! Between our broken Spanish and their broken English, it’s just plain awesome. Many are former farm workers who now run their own ranch back home. We even had one woman follow us for several blocks until she stopped us and asked, “Do you speak English?” We chatted for several minutes about her years in Houston, how she loved her time in Texas, and now she was back to raise her family. She was lovely.

They love that Jack is fluent in Spanish

When this little (HUGE!) gringo opens his mouth and speaks perfect Spanish, there are jaws agape and questions as to why Terry and I are not also fluent. We’re getting there, I promise. They ask him about his immersion school, where we’re going, and why his parents’ had him learn Spanish. Well, it was important to us that Jack be fluent in at least one other language, Spanish being the first choice. The locals like that answer.

You swear you’re in Northern California

Yes, we were just as surprised. When we neared the ridge of the Sierra Madres, we were surrounded by pines, manzanita, and quaking aspens. It was fall in the Sierra’s, and we were getting to experience the season we thought we had left behind. The aspens were just beginning to turn to their golden hue, dancing in the breeze as if only for us. The smells, the sights…we were home once again. When we rolled into a small town for the night, Terry and I were on the com’s trying to pinpoint just what part of California this new area reminded us of. For those of you who know Fall River Mills, we’ve found its Mexican counterpart. Now, if the trout fishing is just as good…

Anything can fit into the back of a ’64 Chevy truck

I mean, ANYTHING! This includes boulders, hay bales 5 deep and 5 high, grandma, grandma’s wheelchair, every member of the family including the neighbor’s kids, roosters, goats, water tanks, you name it. You swear any number of the trucks you see creep by are about to give up and split in two. But nope, I’m sure they still have a good 50,000 miles left on them. They sure use them like they do!

Mexico is amazing!

The people. The landscape. The architecture. The food. And, back to the people. I‘ve lost count of how many Mexican grandmothers we have found over the course of only a few weeks. It’s a beautiful land of music and art, friendships and families. If we had left it up to the scare tactics of the media, we would’ve never left the country. Drugs! War! Disease! They’re out to get you! AHHHH!!! Terry admitted today that not once has he felt like he was threatened in any way. Of course, we know we stand out. We’d be silly to think we didn’t. Sometimes that makes others want to approach you even more, and not just for a peso. Just like in the states, you don’t go to certain places at night. That’s common sense. You don’t hang around border towns, you trust your gut, and you ultimately start to settle in. If you know Terry, you know that this is a major 180-degree from the usual.

So, class, have we learned anything today? I do hope we have. Our family certainly has, and isn’t that why we’re here? Each day brings a new sensation, a new lesson and a new appreciation for Mexico. I’ll be honest, some days we just want to lay and bed with a movie and room service, as the exhaustion can sometimes take over. Riding a motorcycle for a 9-hour stretch is a physical and mental challenge, especially in this country. But, that’s okay. It was our choice, and we wouldn’t change a thing. Well, maybe the choice to not bring a blow dryer… Cheers.

By Sandy Borden

None of the members of the Trio really knew or could even grasp just how tricky it would be to leave the familiar. Wait, let me rephrase that… We didn’t know how hard it would be to say goodbye. It really wasn’t about saying goodbye to our home and our ‘stuff’, it was about our friends and family, particularly those who we’re not sure will be there when we get back. My 83-year-old dad and I especially had a hard time letting go. For Terry, it was our friend Mike from our little town of McCloud. Though many tears were shed with promises of prayers and safe travels, it didn’t make it any easier as we watched them become smaller and smaller in our rear views as we rolled down the road. Did you know it’s difficult to see through the visor when sobbing?

I could go on and on about what the past year has been like. I don’t think mass chaos and constant panic attacks quite cover the scope of this life event. Think about it – we CHOSE to end our “dream” suburban lifestyle and take to the road for 18 months! EGADS! Instead of going on and on about the entire spectacle, let me just give you a brief synopsis of life since November of 2013: sold a house, bought a house, moved 3 ½ hours away, new school for Jack, Terry gone 3 nights a week, trying to sell a business, soft remodel on new abode, attempting to plan said trip, laundry, homework, meals, rinse, repeat, wine. There. Done. It gives me a touch of anxiety just typing that little bit! Many people ask how we did this. The best advice I can give when making a decision to change your life trajectory? Make sure you have a solid understanding and commitment with your partner(s); learn to communicate; learn to argue; and, own up to sometimes being a bit difficult to live with. That last piece of advice is by far the hardest for this strong-willed female.

When we closed the garage door on our McCloud home Saturday, September 13th, it was more bittersweet than we imagined. We were leaving most everything behind for 18 months. Huh… But, we didn’t get very far that morning. We logged only a single mile to our favorite breakfast place to sit down and enjoy a meal with our McCloud family before we started our journey south. All of our friends showed up in their Adventure Trio t-shirts, curious as to how we felt, what was running through our minds, etc. There were hugs and tears as we said our final farewells, everyone waving as we were lead out with a sheriff’s escort down the freeway to the county line. Many thanks, Louis, for the rock star treatment.

Our first day out had to be memorable for all members of the Trio. But, where to land that night? At only 4 hours way, it made sense to stay at the home of the grandfather of adventure travel, Ted Simon. Ted has been a friend for several years and has invited us to stay over on many an occasion. Though he wasn’t home for this visit, Ted told us to come inside and make ourselves at home. So, we did. Thank you, Ted, once again for letting the Trio invade your abode.

The next stop on the tour was Healdsburg where my family eagerly awaited our 3-night stay. This stopover was not to be rushed. As my dad so fondly put it several months previous, “You’ll be gone 18 months? Well, I’ll be dead by then.” Priceless, dad. Again, no rush. All three nights were spent with family from all sides. Cousins played, aunties and uncles got in one last hug and kiss, and sisters took pictures with promises of another get-together upon our return.

Sandwiched in that visit with dad and Arlene was a day trip to San Francisco to meet the newest Borden family member, month old Santiago, and Terry’s youngest sister, Stacy. We had a brief visit with our brother-in-law, Jorge, before he had to catch a plane. We were soon joined by their friends who also brought along their little one’s, the living area stuffed with new mom’s and babies of varying ages. You know it’s time to leave when the kiddos start to get tired, the crowd getting ugly, and the traffic beckons to trap you in its grasp. Santiago is going to be walking the next time we see him! This is when Skype comes in handy in helping to share in those milestones.

The night before our departure from Healdsburg, dad told us that if anything happened to him while we were gone, he didn’t want us to come home. He wants us to continue our journey. Sorry, dad, but I’m a big girl and can make that decision for myself. He knows we have travel money set aside in case of any sort of emergency, though we’d prefer to use it to return for a surprise visit and not a celebration of life.

When it was time for us to roll out from dads, I didn’t realize just how hard that moment would be. For as stoic this former Marine was on most occasions, our final hug and ‘I love you’ seemed to catch both of us by surprise. Dad and I could barely talk and preferred to keep the conversation short, both afraid of a complete breakdown. Jack gave his grandpa a big hug, even he finding it hard to say goodbye for now. I sobbed all the way to our next stop and for the next several hours, unsure if this was the last time I was to ever see my dad. Yes, this goodbye was by far the most difficult.

Kickstands were down for one night in Santa Rosa at the home of one our best friends, Brooke. She confessed to not spreading the word of our arrival with the rest of the crew, admitting that she was being selfish with our time together. We were good with that. A night of pizza, wine and story swapping ensued, keeping us up later than we should have. We didn’t mind, really. Brooke gave us a beautiful night and a royal sendoff. There’s something about friends that you’ve known since childhood that make you feel like family.

Our old hometown of Davis was to be the place to land for the next 2 nights. We stayed with our friends, Allan and Claudia, who lived literally just around the corner from our former home of 15 years. Was it weird being back? Nah. We’d already moved on. But, it was weird to see that nothing had changed. What do I mean by that? The same frantic schedule mixed with the same need to be the busiest mommy with a splash of just plain nuts. None of us missed the usual routine. We did a short TV appearance on Good Day Sacramento, making a breakfast treat on air for our interviewer, Courtney, and sharing the story of our choice to change. Having done several interviews with this show in the past, it was yet another example of friends as family. We hung out for a while to make sure and see everyone before we were off to yet another event.

Our last night in Davis was spent with friends and former neighbors from the old the hood at the park where Jack and all the other kiddos spent countless hours on the jungle gym and see saw. Jack caught up with old friends that he’d known since birth while the adults noshed on homemade goodies washed down with a mug of homemade brew. Yes, our friend, Dan, brought a full keg of hoppy goodness to our gathering. Now, THAT’S how you go out with a bang!

It was another quick departure from Claudia and Allan’s before one of us let loose on the waterworks. A few more of these moments were yet to come. The next difficult goodbye was after a few nights stay with our adopted parent’s/grandparents’, Dave and Judy. Terry, Jack and I never realized how hard this road of farewells was going to be, and all three of us needed this time to relax and be parented & loved. At just over 70, Dave still rides and followed us out for a few miles after finishing a ceremonial breakfast at their favorite breakfast spot in South Lake Tahoe. We were now off to meet up with our friend from McCloud, Mike, and ride to Mariposa for a weekend with our Horizons Unlimited family. It was at this event that we were to get a big sendoff and some much needed advice from our well-traveled crew.

It’s an amazing feeling knowing that you have people in your life that are more family than friends. For Terry especially, Mike is one of them. Mike wanted to ride and camp with us the week leading up to Horizons Unlimited (HU). It was a special time for stories and bonding, for Terry to get some advice and tips, and Jack to learn the basics of fly-fishing from a man who knew his way around a river. Though no fish were caught, it was a few days off the grid at Big Trees and time to tuck away some new memories. Upon our arrival at HU, we were immediately greeted with hugs and tears by our travel family, helping us find the proper spot to pitch our tent so as to remain close to our ‘unit’. Yes, tears already. It was when our friend, Danell, and I locked eyes that we just couldn’t keep it together. She, too, had been preparing for a yearlong journey, this one around the states. During the planning stage, we would text each other when feeling low or defeated, keeping each other moving forward and not feeling alone in our chaos. Jack found his friends of many years, Alana and Dmitri, their mom, Nicole, a very good friend and staunch supporter of our family from the beginning. Carla and Jonathan rolled in shortly after, Carla on a monster Indian that begged to be photographed by anyone with a camera. It was when Alison came rolling in with her 6 foot body on a little 225cc bike that all of us roared in laughter at this beautiful girl riding this little bike. “55MPH max!” she said. No kidding! She set up her tent next to Gina, a beautiful woman who lost her husband to cancer just one year previous. Though deaf, Gina doesn’t let anything keep her from achieving her goals. It was when Fonzie rolled in on his Aprillia that we new the party had officially begun. He was yet another member of our crazy family, and we like it that way.

We finally finished putting together our Saturday afternoon presentation and were quite pleased with the turnout. Yes, I cried…again. Such a sap. A sense of relief came over us as we were now done with our commitments and ready to cut it and roll. It was time to really get this journey started, but that meant leaving our HU family. This, too, was bittersweet because as sad as we were to say farewell, our HU family was excited for our new venture. That definitely helped make the transition easier. Goodbye for now to our motorcycle family.

But, this would be a long goodbye as some of our clan followed us out through the Yosemite forest with plans to camp for the night at a remote hot springs. The idea of soaking in the springs sounded lovely as we had spent the previous night curled up in the tent, avoiding the rain and thunder that roared overhead. Unfortunately, the hot springs would not see any of our crew. A massive storm was brewing, threatening to descend upon our route with several inches of rain and snow. Delightful. Rain we can handle, but snow and freezing temps can be a bit much, especially for Jack. Inclement weather is a lot to ask of little man. And, we had lost one of our riding crew to a broken throttle cable. We had to say goodbye to Gina as she and her bike waited with the park ranger for a tow truck to take her back over the mountain. Not the way we wanted to part ways but very grateful we got to spend the extra time together.

The snow and freezing temperatures almost got the best of us. It was all we could do to keep our hands from becoming hypothermic and our visors free of snow. Every scrape of snow off the visor was immediately replaced with yet another layer. The snow became rain once we started to lose altitude. A couple of shared hotel rooms were going to have to suffice for the night, Mike and Danell in one, the Trio and Fonzie in the other. With our cores once again warm, we meandered down the way for dinner and stories of surviving “The Great Blizzard of 2014”.

It was the next morning and time for us to leave our friends and continue our journey south. The last of the long goodbyes was upon us. Danell was taking off for her year around the states, Fonzie was heading back to L.A. to work, and Mike was heading home to McCloud. It was a sweet embrace as neither Mike or Terry could keep a dry eye. We were leaving our McCloud friend and father, and he was leaving his kids. Safe travels to all of our families. You will be missed but, oh, the stories upon our return. PS to Mike: Your ‘To-Do’ list is waiting at home.

Many have asked, “Do you have your route planned out? Where is your next stop?” Our answer? We’re headed south. No planned route. No true direction except, well, south. Along this journey, we are making new friends who quickly become new members of our family. It is the people we meet along the way that help mold us into new and different versions of who we once were. As I finish this rather long entry, the three of us are surrounded by the family that run the tiny hotel that we have called home these past few days. They are as curious about us as we are about them. I can’t even conceive how much all of us will learn about people and culture and history as we continue along this amazing ride. And, once again, we will have to say goodbye. We have to remind ourselves that it really isn’t a goodbye as long as you take a piece of everyone with you, letting the experience consume you as well as change even just a tiny piece of your being. Remember, change is a good thing as long as you learn from the experience. Now, I must bid you goodbye…for now. Cheers.

Adventure Trio Leaves the Usual and Rides to South America Starting September 2014

Terry, Sandy and Jack Borden (aka The Adventure Trio) have done what many in America may call unusual. In May of 2013, they made the decision to ride their 2 BMW GS motorcycles to South America, departing in September 2014, taking a year and a half to explore a new part of the world. In December 2013, they sold their home in a beautiful suburban neighborhood in their perfect little town, trading their life in the suburbs for a cabin in the mountains. It was time for this family to make a change and show 12-year-old Jack the world beyond maps and the media.

Having done several month-long motorcycle trips since Jack was 6, Terry and Sandy decided it was time to take it to the next level. And, Jack has been on board from the beginning. Leaving behind the baseball games and business meetings, the Borden’s found that they were, actually, much happier out of the suburbs. Why? “I don’t think we ever really fit in here,” says Sandy. Terry expanded, “We found ourselves leaving most every weekend, heading north to our little house in McCloud, California, a life away from the leaf blowers and what we’re told we’re ‘supposed’ to achieve.” Having done everything they were supposed to do, it’s now time for this family to do what they want, making this the best decision for their family. Is this for everyone? “Of course not. But, this is what’s best for our family”, they all answer, almost in unison.

Learning about the world beyond the media is very important to the Borden’s. Jack, having completed a Spanish-immersion elementary school in their former town of Davis, California, has spent most of his 7th grade year in the small K-8 grade school in McCloud. Beginning September 2014, Jack will be home-schooled, learning the history and the culture of every country he visits through Mexico, Central and South America. “Jack has already been exposed to so much beyond the classroom”, says Sandy. “Why not combine traditional schooling with being immersed in other cultures and languages. Can you imagine the how much all of us will have changed when we return?”

And, that’s the lure of the road on 2-wheels. When BMW Motorrad USA learned of their story, they came on-board as a full sponsor as well as many other U.S. and international companies including Touratech USA, Clearwater Lights, Hilleberg Tents and DeLorme Satellite Communicators. Also supporting the Trio on their journey are Schuberth Helmets, GS-911, Baker’s Bacon, Black Dog Cycle Works, Adventure Designs, Giant Loop Moto, Metzeler Tires and McCloud Outdoors.

The Borden’s will leave their home in McCloud in a mere 3 weeks with their ‘official’ 18-month journey beginning on September 28th from the Horizons Unlimited International Travelers meeting in Mariposa, California. They invite any and all fellow wanderers to follow them south to the Mexican border to help begin this next chapter in their lives.

Do the Borden’s see themselves as an inspiration to other families to ‘get up and go’? “I hope so. We only have so many years with our kiddos. Jack is already 12 and all too soon he will be off making his own memories. If we don’t do this now, then when?” answers Terry. Is it scary? “Of course it is! But, isn’t it scarier never having veered from the usual?” says Sandy. And, what’s Jack most excited about? “Just going.” Sometimes it’s as simple as that.

As the Borden family always says, “Don’t ask why, ask why not.” You can follow The Adventure Trio on their journey as well as read their stories on their website, http://www.adventuretrio.com, Facebook, www.adventuretrio.com, Instagram ADVENTURE_TRIO, and Twitter, AdventureTrio.

RoadRUNNER Magazine Adventure Trio Apr14