I have no clue where, how, or by whose authority the term “adventure motorcycling” entered the lexicon. But of course the word itself—“adventure”—has long been co-opted, then sold back to us; that’s what our economic and political systems do with terms and concepts perceived to have strength in them. That doesn’t render the terms and concepts invalid; in a way, it merely confirms the presence of something important. The same complaints are at least equally valid about “touring” (consider what a “touring” bike looks like these days) or “overlanding.”

When Yvon Choinard, who would surely know what adventure looks like, said long ago that adventure begins only once stuff starts to go seriously wrong, he was onto the essence of it. So the more I try to control events by purchasing upgrades, carrying plastic cards or using mapping software, the less actual adventure I’m likely to encounter.

Personally, I complain about this all the time…while caressing my stack of debit cards, credit cards, safety devices, and get-out-of-jail-free connections. Looking back, the major “adventures” of my life, at least in the physical realm, have mainly been in the distant past, before internet, ATMs, or GPS—even before (gasp) Lonely Planet guidebooks. And I can hardly even use the term “adventure motorcycling” without a bit of a sneer, designed to demonstrate a degree of adventure-sophistication to anyone who gets it.

But there’s a real quandary here: how to invite the unknown and unpredictable into my travels without crossing over into stuff that is beyond my current, 68-year-old risk tolerance…and having done that, how to communicate it efficiently to other people. I tried to do the latter recently while traveling with a bunch of people less than half my age in Central Asia, complicated by the fact that while *they* were clearly having a grand adventure, *I* was definitely not.

This is where I stop rambling, and sign off with some variation on mileage varying. Besides, I just finished my latté and pistachio croissant here on this breezy patio overlooking the local volcano, and it’s time I went out in search of adventure. Or at least “adventure.”

Mark