From the first moment I saw the Chilean desert, I knew I had to ride a motorcycle through it. The wide-open horizons, the stark mountains, and the endless sky are nothing like the tight, tree-lined roads of eastern North America where I learned to ride. In the desert, the land feels unbound—wild and untamed—inviting you to just keep going.
The desert is both thrilling and humbling. Sometimes the “route” is nothing more than a faint track in the dirt, pointing toward a far-off horizon with no signs, no traffic, and no guarantee of what’s ahead. But that’s the pull of it—the promise that, if you trust the journey and leave the obvious path behind, you’ll find places and moments that most people will never experience.
I want other riders to feel that same sense of freedom—the mix of awe, challenge, and discovery that comes from chasing a line in the sand until it disappears into the sky.