Salt, rust, and four-letter words


The angst I feel for oxidation abounds. My motorbike, nearly a year in Florida, looks blotchy with a rash of iron-oxide. Its skinned knees are a bloody brown, its underbody a mix of gray and the signs of metallic decay. I can't bear to look at the result of my neglect without strong curses to my thoughtlessness. This lesson is a more a setback to my ego than anything else, though the financial toll is in the hundreds. Dismantling the bike for a scheduled 36-thousand mile service uncovers new problems. A hex-cap screw twists off inside a brake caliper. A pile of rusty dust follows the threads out of one handlebar brush guard. Flakes of black paint on the pannier racks chip away with the brush of my hand. Everywhere I look, steel that was once gray is now red. The black parts are brown. Earth-tone flower shapes sprawl across the shiny silver of the tailpipe. I could cry. These fasteners from the Touratech Zega Top Case are rusted. Rust penetrated the paint of the Touratech Zega Pannier mounting system and rust…


I'm a young man from the United States traveling the Americas by motorbike. I freely share my adventures here, and this wouldn't be possible without the generous support of my family, friends, and followers like you.

Please help me continue the adventure!

If you enjoy what you see, please say so in a comment. Better yet, comment, subscribe, and share!

You can also help by making your Amazon purchases via this link or by putting some gas in my tank with the button below!

I sincerely appreciate your support!