Mike Huber

India 2025: Om Banna

By Mike Huber

India Part VII

The number of temples and shrines we visited throughout Rajasthan in India had become mind boggling. They each had their appeal and draw for one crowd or another. It seems as though there was a temple for everyone, and as soon as I began wondering just how far apart and diverse the temples were we pulled into one that finally fully resonated with all of us. It was the Temple of Om Banna.

This wasn’t just any temple. Temple Om Banna is a temple dedicated to fallen motorcycle riders and to provide a safe journey blessing for all travelers. As legend has it in 1988, a motorcyclist lost control of his Royal Enfield here and hit a tree and was instantly killed. His motorcycle ended up in a nearby ditch. The police recovered it and brought it to their station. The following day the motorcycle was missing from the police station and rediscovered back where it had originally crashed. This happened several times until the locals declared this a miracle and the Om Banna Shrine was created.

The Shrine is located right off the highway and is hard to miss with all the food carts, people, and yes, motorcyclists. It is said that travelers who do not stop at this Temple will have bad luck for the continuation of their journey. Not wanting to have any bad luck (and more importantly, to check out this cool temple) we quickly pulled in on our Royal Enfields.

There were probably a couple hundred people there as we entered the open air temple. There was incense burning and just a few meters past that we could see the Royal Enfield encased in glass with offerings surrounding it. These offerings included food, money, and small liquor bottles (makes sense right?). The entire scene was surreal. The motorcycle did seem to have a life of its own. I am not sure if it was just from the ambience surrounding it or if it was indeed a miracle we were gazing upon. Either way, the temple was something that we each connected with in our own way and in our own space.

Upon packing up to leave one of my friends decided he would go ahead of us and get some kilometers in as he was a faster rider and would find a hotel for us for that evening. The rest of us were in no rush and decided to get off the highway to just go slower and take in the countryside. We were all pretty relaxed as another busy day was winding down. It seems that anytime riding in India, as soon as you lower your guard India feels it, and will throw something at you as a reminder to respect your surroundings.

The two of us were on a long straight. My friend was leading as I was gazing outward I saw something dart under my friend’s moto. Whatever it as it was for a moment was consumed underneath the bike and seemed to have disappeared. By the time this all processed (split seconds) I realized it was a small child that was being called by her sibling on the other side of the road. The child was underneath the bike from my perspective. My mind quickly raced through about 100 different reactions and emotions. It seems I blinked and then the child reappeared on the other side of the motorcycle still running, seemingly oblivious to what had almost happened. Neither of us could fully process how the child wasn’t killed or injured in anyway. It was just that close.

We both pulled over instantly. My friend needed about 10 minutes and a call to his family back in Canada to calm down and process what had happened, or almost happened. Once having regained our composure we began the short and very quiet ride to our hotel where we met up with our friend. He instantly could tell something was up as we pulled into the hotel. When he asked what as up the only reply I could say was “Om Banna.”

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

India 2025: Jain Temples, Crowds, and More Culture Shock

By Mike Huber

India Part VI

Waking up the next day was a little bit easier. This was due to the fact there were only three switches on the wall. Much easier than the usual 100+ switches in the previous hotels. In those I wasn’t sure if I was turning on a fan, light, or launching an Apollo mission. I was even able to find the switch for the water heater to have a nice hot shower. After a short walk to obtain some much-needed caffeine and having the Royal Enfield Himalayans loaded, we were ready to head out and kick the day off.

Today was going to be about 250 kilometers of riding to the small town of Bhilwara. Along the way we would visit one of the very few Jain temples in India. Upon arrival, we instantly noticed the amount of detail on everything. The temple was more than one can comprehend in just a short visit.

We enjoyed soaking in the culture both from the temple and the locals taking more selfies of us. After a bit, it was time to start moving as we had one more temple to visit and a 2-hour ride to where we planned to stay for the evening.

The next temple was only about 10 minutes away but Google routed us through a local bazaar. Thankfully we didn’t attempt anything like this on Day 1 in India, as it would have been more than overwhelming. I figured this would start getting interesting as soon as the streets began to narrow and the crowds filled in. I cannot find a comparison other than to imagine driving through the 2004 Red Sox World Series Celebration at Government Center in Boston. Packed doesn’t even begin to describe it. Normally I would have thought motos weren’t supposed to be driving through here but with seeing one or two other motorcycles (other than us) I figured we weren’t doing anything too bad.

The ride was tight. We slowly made our way through the crowd with a constant honking and a light nudge of a pedestrian or three until we finally arrived at the temple. We weren’t quite swarmed by people looking for selfies but there were crowds everywhere around us. As always, they were super friendly so we took our time with each group and chatted with them on where we were from and where we were going.

Once we took a short tour of the temple and were asked for a bunch more selfies, it was time to head back on the road and the path to that road, you guessed it, it was through the same bazaar we squeezed through on the way in. By this time we were familiar with how to negotiate through the crowd and we did so.

As we approached Bhilwara we were more than ready to get off the bikes and get some dinner. Well, India had different plans for us. It turns out Bhilwara (as with other small towns we would learn) requires the hotels to file paperwork with local authorities for foreigners. Normally this isn’t too big a deal, but in this case none of the hotels in this town had the proper paperwork, nor did they seem too motivated to obtain it. This forced us to drive another hour until we were in a more populated area where we could finally rest for the evening. We were cutting it close with time as the bright red sun was just beginning to set as we pulled into the hotel. This was a fine way to wrap up another day motorcycling through India.

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

India 2025: Alawar to Jaipur, Step Wells, and Forts

By Mike Huber

India Part V

As I woke up in my dark hotel room it took me a few moments to realize where I was. What took longer was figuring out how to turn on the lights via the Rubik’s cube, but mashing all the light switches on the main panel helped me regain my focus and vision in this now dimly lit room. The bigger issue was finding the correct switch for the hot water. So after a short and cold shower (I didn’t find the switch) it was time to meet everyone downstairs and get our plan for the day together over some much needed coffee.

Once downstairs I looked at each of my friends, then myself in the mirror. It wasn’t difficult to tell who consumed the 8% Kingfisher beers the previous evening. I also learned that one of them went back to the store for another beer after I went to sleep but the store was closed. That didn’t stop my highly motivated friend from discovering that there was a guy next to the store selling Kingfishers at a mildly elevated price from a ditch next to the store.

With a few coffees in us we loaded the motorcycles and we were ready for another day of adventure. Today would be our first full day of riding from Alawar to Jaipur, which was only around 160km. There would be plenty of sights to see along the way as we traveled through some pretty remote backroads and Google Maps even had us go through a field trail for a few kilometers. We took turns leading although my cell service was still unreliable, so we would only have me lead when we were on one road for a solid length of time.

After an hour or so we decided to take a break in a small village and get a few bananas and some water. It only took a couple minutes before most the village came out to meet us all. Even a school bus stopped and let the kids off to check out the bikes and talk with us. It reminded me of my first experience in India 20 years prior. This would become a familiar sight for us with crowds coming up to us to chat and take selfies. They all were the friendliest people. We enjoyed these stops and opportunities to engage with the locals in these little villages that were so far off the maps.

Our next stop was to check out a step well. One of the guys had this thing for step wells, and by the end of the trip I hoped I would never see another step well again. I think he had to have like a Global map for them. Step wells are really just a deep brick hole in the ground with several steps from all angles going down into the hole to fetch water with buckets and bring it back up. Some of them went over 60 feet down.

Once we arrived in Jaipur it was early afternoon, and the traffic was really starting to become congested. This made it a challenge for me to stay within line of sight of the guys (again). There is a huge fort in Jaipur called Nahargarh Fort. It was the first of many forts we would be visiting. The fort was stunning to walk around and the views from that high ground were spectacular. We could view the entire city from this fort.

As we wrapped up the tour of the fort and returned to lower ground the traffic had become beyond insane. The streets were narrow and filled with tuk tuks, motorcycles, cows, cars and just overall chaos. It seemed every inch that was gained to stay in a tight group was a fight. The others driving wasn’t so much as aggressive as it was just cramped and tight. My bike got scuffed up by a bus at one turn, but I had to keep on riding to keep up with the others.

By the time we reached our hotel we all were more than ready for a Kingfisher and we each hoped they were the 8% ones. We survived another day motorcycling through this fabulous, but intense country and were eagerly looking forward to what the following day would bring.

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

India 2025: Overpacking and the ABV Lottery

By Mike Huber

India Part IV

The next day was the day we would pick up the Royal Enfield Himalayans. I was excited to show my new riding partners the bikes, having taken them out a couple days prior. We all met at Iqbal’s motorcycle shop bright and early. As we unpacked our gear and transferred it from boxes and backpacks into the panniers and saddlebags I noticed one thing: They had a LOT of gear. This wasn’t a bad thing as I was missing a lot of necessities such as tire repair kits, jump starters, and tool bags. As I looked over at my moto and the gear I had, I realized it was pretty limited, which at first glance had me concerned but then after thinking it through I thought: How many tire repair kits do you really need?

After wrapping up the final paperwork with Iqbal, we suited up and were off. It would be a short day with just a little over four hours of riding. This was perfect, as it took an hour just to navigate through Delhi, whiz through the suburbs, and eventually find our way into the country where we could relax while riding a bit. For me, the relaxation didn’t really happen as I had no communication between the others and my phone seemed to constantly go in and out of cell coverage. This meant that I had to keep eyes on at least one of the other two to avoid drifting off and getting lost. If nothing else, it was a motivator and solid excuse for my aggressive riding. At least that’s what I told myself.

Around 1500 hours (Ed Note: That’s 3:00 p.m. for you non-Airborne guys) we decided to call it a day, get a hotel, some food, and a couple beers in a tiny town called Alawar. I say a couple of beers because the local beers (called Kingfisher) were a crapshoot with regard to how strong they were. They fluctuated between 5% and 8% ABV (alcohol by volume), so until you had one you really didn’t know which end of the spectrum you would end up on. This was a nightly roulette game where we would play “who got the 8% beer?” Over the next few weeks we all had our time with the 8% beers at one point or another. This added yet another unknown into our travel equation (as if we needed any more unknowns), but it was fun nonetheless at the end of a long riding day.

Another interesting nightly game was “which switch controls the lights?” It seemed that every room had at least two panels with a minimum of six switches per panel. This made turning the lights out each evening about as doable as solving a Rubik’s Cube (especially if you were the guy who had the 8% Kingfishers that evening).

After dinner, the Kingfishers, and solving the light switch Rubik’s Cube, I was pretty wiped out and it was time for a peaceful night’s sleep. The next day would be our first full day of riding. Although my confidence was high after Delhi’s chaotic roads, there surely would be more surprises. This would prove to be especially true as we went further into northern India’s countryside.

India Part I

India Part II

India Part III

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

India 2025: Birthday Cake, Strip Clubs, and Whiskey

By Mike Huber

India: Part III

My third day in India: I had met Iqbal (the motorcycle rental guy) and I bought new motorcycle gear (helmet, jacket, gloves, all for $73 USD). I am not saying this gear was high end Aria or anything, but it was something. In the event of a crash I would hope it would be low speed and I could count on my paratrooper skills to fall properly and not get too banged up. Things were coming together nicely and my confidence and morale was much higher than I had expected. With an extra evening to kill, it turned out one of my offshore developers that worked with me in 2014 lived in Delhi and had invited me over for dinner.

When I was in corporate America I loved hanging out with my team whenever I wasn’t out roaming around the world. Well, when I met this guy he had just gotten off the plane in Seattle and it was his first time in the United States. Knowing this, I directed another one of my team members to pick him up and bring him to Pike Market where we could get a few beers and I could fully christen him to our great country.

Of course, my idea for the full American immersion was to bring him to a proper strip club that was next to Pike Market. Without getting into details, he probably had one of the best nights of his life. We kept in touch over the years and whenever I would walk by the strip club I would send him a photo of the sign, and that is how you maintain high morale on a project team (leadership at its finest).

I arrived at his apartment and met his lovely wife and sister-in-law. After catching up and chatting for an hour they invited me to their parents’ home for dinner. The conversation then turned to birthdays, and they asked when mine was. I pulled out my phone and looked at it intensely. They didn’t know what I was doing as I should know my birthday (which I did). They were surprised to hear my next words: “My birthday is in 3 hours and 42 minutes.”

I don’t know a lot about the Indian culture but within two minutes I had a birthday cake in front of me, so I am guessing they always have a birthday cake in the freezer “just in case.” Either way, it was very sweet and I felt more than welcomed into their country.

After a few pre-birthday whiskeys, it was time to return to my hotel and get a solid night’s sleep. I needed to wash away any remaining jet lag I had as my friends were due to arrive the following day. As I peacefully fell asleep with thoughts of riding the new Royal Enfields, my phone rang. “Huber, I need a place to sleep!” Well, I guess I would be meeting at least one of my new friends sooner than expected as I buzzed the hotel door to let him in. It turned out his hotel had given his room away so we would be roommates until we departed on the motorcycles in two days.

India: Part I

India: Part II

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

India 2025: Deja Vu All Over Again

By Mike Huber

India: Part II

As my flight approached Delhi, India, the thoughts in my head began racing back to 2004 when I experienced culture shock for the first time. Being nervous, I was optimistic as I had a couple things in my favor that I didn’t have 20 years prior. That being technology with our phones and apps, and my experience over the past 20 years traveling to quite a few countries. I took comfort in that as the plane landed and pulled up to the gate.

The last time I exited the Delhi Airport I was instantly mobbed by a crowd of taxi drivers pulling at my luggage and quoting me absurd prices for a ride to the hotel. This time was much different, and although there were Ubers, I chose to hire a taxi from the government taxi stand. Other than a few obvious scams I was not bothered by anyone at all. It was quite a refreshing change, and after a 45-minute ride I was dropped off at my hotel where I could relax and slowly take in Delhi in a way I was not allowed to 20 years ago.

With memories still lingering from my previous experience in this country I knew that the best way to overcome them was to embrace the culture, not shy away from it. For my first day in India I would take a local bus. This would not only force me to get over these haunting feelings from the past but enable me to gain my confidence in the most effective way possible. The bus was crowded, but not too overwhelming. It was a 30-cent ride versus a $3 Uber.

With my renewed confidence in my ability to navigate through this beautiful but chaotic city, the following day I chose to take the subway to Iqbal Motors, the company we were renting our Royal Enfield Himalayans from. The train was a bit more crowded than the bus. To the point when I finally found the correct subway (on my third try, but hey I was learning so I went easy on myself) I really had to squeeze into the subway car. It was a tight fit but not that bad, until the doors opened at the next stop. Not fully paying attention the next thing I knew I was thrown about 15 feet from the train and was well onto the platform before I realized I had to fight crowds to make it back onto the train prior to it leaving. Not wanting that to happen again I fought my way to the center of the car and faced towards the doors that would open for my stop. Now it was my turn. As soon as the doors opened I crouched down into a sort of rugby scrum stance and pushed with all my might in order to exit the car. Success! I was out and just a few blocks from Iqbal Motors.

I was excited to finally meet Iqbal at his shop and check out our new 2025 Royal Enfield Himalayans. The bikes were beautiful and the communication over the previous two months with Iqbal on fine tuning our needs for gear, schedules, and overall itinerary made an otherwise challenging rental easy. I knew we made the right decision as soon as I met him. I cannot say enough good things about Iqbal and his motorcycle rental company.

Upon saddling up on the Himalayan and taking the bike out for a short blast I instantly understood why this was the chosen motorcycle for India. All my apprehensions and anxiety about this trip melted away as I zipped through traffic in Delhi. I was officially excited and ready to spend the next three weeks (or longer) on my new steed. My friends were set to arrive in two days and I was ready to begin this motorcycle adventure through the crowded, yet mystical country of India.

India Part I is here.

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

India Revisited 2025

By Mike Huber

I first went to India in May of 2005. I was about to graduate Boston University after 9 long years (the 9-year part will probably make for another interesting blog) and knew it was time for a well-deserved break. At this point of my life traveling abroad was new to me, and I thought India would make for an excellent adventure with all its beauty and intensity. This trip would also allow me to forego physically going to a boring graduation ceremony (even though it was my own).

I had NO idea what I was doing as it was one of my first trips abroad outside of the Army. Well, the best way to learn is by falling down and skinning your knees, and boy my knees got tore up this trip (I am sure my paratrooper mates will have some smart ass remarks on that line). It was to be a once in a lifetime adventure (well, twice in a lifetime now).

The trip didn’t start smoothly. As we landed in Trivandrum, the southernmost tip of the country, I was exhausted since I had been up for 30+ hours. It was late May and the weather was hot and humid. All I wanted to do was sleep in a hotel with air conditioning. Eventually, I got my wish and found a hotel room. As a foreigner I was required to list my friend who was staying with his family as a reference. The hotel was located in a tiny village that was very remote. My friend pulled me aside as I was checking into the hotel and said he would pick me up in the morning “Don’t do anything stupid” were his parting words that day. Tall order indeed, but I was wiped and figured that behaving wouldn’t be too difficult.

When I awoke after a solid nap I was hungry and thought I would go get some food. I left the hotel still woozy from the long journey but found a street cart with food. As I began eating, next to the food cart I noticed quite a traffic jam building up. It seemed I was causing the traffic jam with all the attention I was drawing. They had never seen a white American before. Cars were stopping to take pictures of me and numerous people approached to have conversations. After about an hour of talking and singing American music with them it was time for me to return to my room for some more rest.

The following morning my friend showed up mad as hell. “I told you not to do anything stupid.” I was perplexed as to what he was referring to. Well, turns out I drew so much attention that an Indian Government Agency (he stated it was the equivalent of the FBI) had called him asking who I was and what I was doing in this remote Indian village. It was more of a health and wellness check than anything, which I could fully appreciate.

After a week I parted ways with my friend and began traveling through northern India on my own. This was when I got my first solid hit of culture shock, and it hit me bigtime. Being alone and traveling through the bustling streets of Delhi, Agra (to see the Taj Ma Hal), and the Himalayan mountain town of Leh would prove to be a wakeup call that was clearly overdue. There were no cell phones or Google maps to navigate by during this trip. Add to that the intensity of Delhi traffic and just the overall controlled chaos that overwhelmed every sense and came from every direction possible (and some directions I didn’t even know existed). It was sensory overload to the point that one day I cancelled all my scheduled tours and stayed in my hotel with the blinds down. It was that level of intensity just outside my hotel room. The mix of culture shock and wandering through these places alone made for anxiety I had never felt before. By the time I was packing to leave I felt as though this country had overwhelmed me so much that I was questioning my confidence in traveling.

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

Dos Ojos Cavern Dive – Mexico

By Mike Huber

Introductory Disclaimer: So as I have been writing these blogs the last few years it’s quite enjoyable and therapeutic to literally vomit out the stories without having pressure to place any bullshit spin or embellishments (they really don’t need any embellishing). I take pride in highlighting my successes, but also annotating my shortcomings and owning them through my writings. Enjoy!

My main purpose of traveling to Mexico was tacos, but diving was a close runner up as a reason to visit this incredible country again. Diving over the past six months has almost replaced my addiction to motorcycling, making it yet another bad decision as a hobby choice. For those of you that have read my previous diving adventures will fully understand this.

I am currently on the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico and much of this land was created from a giant asteroid. That would be THE giant asteroid that created the Ice Age and killed off the dinosaurs. With this massive disruption in this area, the ocean floor was lifted in a strange way that created cenotes. These essentially are old caves that are now flooded with fresh water. There are about 5,000 of these cenotes throughout the Yucatan Peninsula and they are quite magical. Having to mark my checklist off (I’m making this list up as I go, by the way, as a month ago I couldn’t tell you what a cenote was) scuba diving in one of these seemed like it would be incredible, and it was. Sorta.

In Thailand I had done a few swim throughs. Not even caves or caverns, but about 20 meters. It wasn’t something I ever enjoyed but it wasn’t the worst experience, either, so I wasn’t quite sure how I would feel during a 52-minute, ¼-mile dive through my first cenote. Upon arriving and seeing the other divers in the crystal clear water with the sunlight mysteriously peering through the overgrowth of old forest above the cave, I instantly was put into a state of awe based on how beautiful it was. After donning our scuba gear and jumping into the cenote, the cool water was quite refreshing from the heat and humidity in the jungle above us. After a few minutes of joking around and performing a buoyancy test, the five of us were ready to begin exploring this cenote underwater.

It didn’t take long before the beautiful glowing natural light was absorbed by darkness. We had nothing but our small flashlights and a string along the bottom to guide us for the next hour. As we swam along there were stalagmites and stalactites on either side of us. Some were so old they had formed natural columns in the still crystal clear and dark water we were slowly navigating through.

We were about 30 minutes or so into the dive when I noticed my heart began beating quite rapidly. It was beating at a rather uncomfortable rate. I tried to shake it off as mentally I felt great, but it seemed to be getting worse. With my heart now beating faster, my breathing also began to increase. I knew I had plenty of air as I am religious on checking my oxygen levels (see my previous diving blogs) so I did what I could to dismiss it, but my mind wouldn’t allow me to shake it off.

With all this going on I began to float to the surface. Normally this would just be frustrating and I would have to close my eyes, exhale and I would sink back to the level I wanted. The issue now, though, is there was no surface. There was only the cavern ceiling. If I hit the cavern roof, I would probably hit my head and it would possibly be a “lights out” situation. I did not want this. We were in a semi-single-file line (although I was a bit more elevated than the others, in several ways now that I think about it). There really was nothing or no one I could reach out to for help. What were they going to do? Give me a hug? I was on my own here and as with previous situations, I had the rest of my life to determine how to resolve this mess and get my head (and more importantly, my body) under control.

It took a couple of minutes to do just that, and a short while later I was enjoying the cave, being super calm and relaxed. It felt like coming out of an intense psychedelic trip and realizing that you are on the other side of it (and a stronger person for having undergone the experience). Then, it happened again. Not quite as intense but enough for me to mentally note that this sort of diving wasn’t for me, or at least it wasn’t for me at this particular time.

As we neared the entrance of the cavern where we started from the shimmering neon green light of the sun causing the water to glow and seeing the other divers floating gently above me was a beautiful sight. My first cavern dive had been logged and as I surfaced I looked to me new friends around me and simply said “Well, that was quite a trip.” I chose not to do the second cavern dive that day (for obvious reasons) but I am looking forward to my next dive in a few days. That dive will include close encounters with bull sharks. Until then I am long overdue for a couple of cold Tecates and some much-needed tacos.

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

The New Year Comes with New Adventures

By Mike Huber

Having spent 11 months abroad and successfully (I am the one gauging the definition of success, by the way) traveling through 7 countries (some multiple times) returning to my home country of the United States of America was a welcome way to round out 2024. The past month has been filled with catching up with family and friends, as well as catching 3 mice and 12 flying squirrels that seem to have filled my vacancy in my parent’s house in Maine. The break was also filled with replacing some of my gear and clothes that were “gently used” throughout my travels in Oceania and Southeast Asia. Outside the occasional waking up at 3:00 a.m. and freaking out that I am sleeping in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, homeless and unemployed (clearly, that should be my intro if I ever join a dating site), it’s been a really productive month.

With the New Year approaching my plan was to begin traveling through South America for the entire year by motorcycle. In November that plan quickly changed (imagine that) when a fellow rider I had camped with four years ago in Death Valley National Park messaged me and stated that he and another rider were about to embark on a 1-month motorcycle journey through India, Pakistan, Nepal, Bhutan, and Bangladesh in February on Royal Enfield Himalayans. I wasn’t too impressed as I figured it would be some BS tour with a guide and not really count as a motorcycle adventure. He replied stating that was not the case and it was just the two of them. It took me about 15 minutes to reply stating that I was in. He promptly let me know that he wasn’t inviting me and was just discussing the trip with me. At any rate I invited myself and they seemed okay with that. I mean, who wouldn’t be? I am an absolute joy to be around.

This will surely be one of the more challenging adventures for me in quite some time. It really began to hit me while packing my gear in freezing cold Maine. Even though this nomadic lifestyle has been my life for the past eight years, there always is some anxiety that comes when the reality of the adventure begins to sink in. After India, per my usual I have no plan and must mentally prepare to face isolation yet again for an unknown amount of time. Of course, that is until I meet 100 new beautiful friends, which is sure to happen. Another issue I am concerned with is I sold my BMW GS1250 to my friend who was babysitting it and fell in love with the bike (that’s not hard to do as it’s a great motorcycle). Well, he sold it, and with it my helmet, jacket, etc. So, riding these countries with rental gear is something I am apprehensive about. Buying new gear really isn’t an option as once this trip is wrapped up there is still no definitive plan for my next location or activities. As in the past, I place that as a problem for “Future Mike Huber,” and he is pretty good at figuring these things out.

In the meantime, there are still a few weeks to kill prior to motorcycling India. I thought scuba diving Mexico would fill that void. Mexico will also serve as a solid way to ease back into traveling and rebuilding my confidence for what is sure to be an adventurous New Year with plenty of stories to come.

Happy New Year to all.

Join our Facebook ExNotes page!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Help us keep the lights on:

Don’t forget: Visit our advertisers!

Krabi, Thailand

By Mike Huber

After 5 weeks on Koh Tao it was time to move on to explore more of Thailand. I was becoming complacent and really had a lot more to experience in Thailand before my visa expired. Being comfortable in one place was a new feeling for me, and although it was a wonderful feeling it also meant that I wasn’t growing, which was a huge part of undertaking this journey. There was a lot of Thailand I hadn’t explored yet, but I wasn’t up for a flight. So, after talking with others the city of Krabi kept coming up as a place of beauty. So Krabi it was.

Krabi is a rather large city and after having recently spent two weeks in Bangkok, I was really done with large cities. As with most cities you really cannot absorb the full culture there. Yes, there are museums, temples, and other tourist attractions, but to fully feel the true heartbeat of a region you need to travel off the beaten path, which in most cases means meandering around the countryside.

Ao Nang is the “countryside” of Krabi, and although Ao Nang wasn’t that far off the beaten path, it was near the Andaman Sea. There is easy access to ferries that could bring you to any number of islands quickly. This would make for a perfect base for a week in order to partake in island hopping day trips and even an overnight trip to Railay Beach.

Railay Beach wasn’t an island, but a remote peninsula that was only accessible by long tail boat. Just a 15-minute boat ride and you were on what felt like on another planet. The beach was beautiful with crystal clear waters around limestone mountains that popped out of the ocean in every direction. There were monkeys running around and even parrots in the trees above me. The people here were on island time; there was no rush or hurry to do anything. Railay Beach was the perfect place to watch the sunset while drinking a cold Chang beer listening to a local play classic rock tunes in a smoky bar while people sat almost invisible in the far back on cushions enjoying their mushroom shakes with neon paintings glowing to guide the journeys they were on. It was really a unique place, and for me to be saying that means a lot.

The remainder of the time in Krabi I spent on the beaten path joining in tours of the many islands. The days were lazily spent snorkeling, sunning on the white sands, and embracing the emerald-green waters. Ao Nang is yet another location on this trip where I seemed to continually extend my hotel stay day by day until I realized a week had passed and it was now time to move on to the next adventure. My urge to leave was fueled by my new hobby of scuba diving. Once again it didn’t take too long to decide my next destination: The Phi Phi Islands.

Never miss an ExNotes blog: