Previous trip .... Mini Mondo in the Spanish Pyrenees

It’s dark, it’s late and it’s starting to rain.

A grin spreads across my face. No one sees it and no one needs to confirm what I already know.

I’m slightly squiffed and find myself lying under the stars, protected from the evening shower by a flapping tarpaulin and my trusty bivy bag. 

My belly’s full after a hearty three course meal, cooked on an open fire by newfound companions. I’ve just spent the last five days riding the unspoilt trails that criss-cross the Pyrenees, avoiding centres of civilisation during the day and as it turns out, learning a few things along the way.

Not all of them about riding.

I’d always had it in mind to take on a longer motorcycle trip at some point, but never quite seemed to have the time. So I signed up to Mini Mondo to at least sip from the cup and to learn from, in my opinion, the master of low budget motorcycle travel.

A man who has circumnavigated the world twice on a motorcycle and filmed much of it for our entertainment.

Austin Vince’s Mini Mondo concept had me hooked from the off. A quick glance at the guidance made that clear. If your idea of humour is making fun of someone and then saying “I was only joking”… then this is not for you.

A simple message, but it tells you everything.

This wasn’t going to be a trip for prima donnas or anyone overly attached to creature comforts… or, as it turns out, dry socks.

What hit me early on is that you don’t arrive and get handed an experience, you help create it.

Duty rotas were established for routine chores including wood gathering, fire tending, cooking, camp, washing up and even scribing the group diary.

Everyone contributes, everyone relies on everyone else, and no one gets to sit back for too long, disappear for a bit of “me time,” or quietly opt out when the washing up appears.

You’re part of it,  fully, and it works.

Of course, it all sounds very wholesome until you’re on twilight washing up duty, with a fading headtorch, wondering why you didn’t just book a hotel and order room service like a sensible person.

Before long, a rhythm takes hold. No fuss. No drama. Just a simple structure that keeps things moving even when energy dips and the weather turns. And somewhere in all of that, you realise you’re making good progress and having a great time.

Not in a polished, Instagram sort of way. But in that slightly chaotic, light-hearted, laugh-when-it-goes-wrong sort of way that sticks with you. The sort of fun that doesn’t look like much from the outside… but feels absolutely spot on when you’re in it.

Now, I should admit something. I am, in many ways, a marketeer’s dream.

I like a gadget. 

I appreciate a bit of well designed kit and over the years, I’ve been thoroughly seduced by the ever-expanding world of adventure motorcycling. New bikes, new gear, new “must haves” arriving with impressive regularity.

At one point, I was probably only a couple of purchases away from needing a support vehicle just to carry it all and yet, thinking back to lying under that tarp with very little to my name, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that most of it isn’t needed.

If anything, all that stuff just gets in the way and it's worth pondering this for a minute.

Mini Mondo improved my trail riding, no question. Riding loaded bikes, day after day, in real conditions has a way of sharpening things up but the bigger lesson wasn’t about riding.

It was about stripping things back and ditching the chaff.

Packing and unpacking your gear each day has a way of focusing the mind. You quickly work out what needs to go where and see the difference between what’s essential for the trip and what’s been very effectively sold as essential.

Turns out you can get quite a long way with less kit and some common sense.

Do I really need to prepare for every possible scenario?  Probably not and if I do, I’ll work it out, usually about five minutes after I wish I’d thought of it.

What you do need is a system that works A bit of adaptability and the willingness to get on with it when things aren’t perfect.

That shift in mindset will matter far more than any piece of kit when I head from Ushuaia to Peru.

A sense of humour helps too..

There were some proper belly laughs, usually at the exact moment things were going slightly wrong.

Often because things were going slightly wrong.

But what stood out wasn’t just the laughs. It was how quickly a group of strangers becomes a team when everyone’s in it together.

When you’re sharing the work, you share the experience, barriers come down and the laughs land that bit harder because of it.

But if I’m honest, the best part came after it all finished. 

A friend and I carried on for another week. No structure, no supervision, no one setting the plan.

Just the two of us, making it up as we went.

We followed offroad trails out of Spain and worked our way through the spectacular Pyrenees into France, loosely heading in the right direction and figuring the rest out along the way.

That’s where it really clicked. No one to fall back on. No structure to rely on. If something needed doing, we did it. If something went wrong we sorted it.  Usually with a bit of head-scratching first… and occasionally a bit of optimistic guesswork.

And it was brilliant.

Looking back now, Mini Mondo wasn’t just a few days of riding it was preparation. Somewhere between Ushuaia and Peru, I’ll remember that grin and the quiet satisfaction that comes from stripping away the unnecessary.

And now, at least, I know what works for me..

And quietly… that’s exactly the point 

Below are some photos from the trip 

Drop me an email at andy@mototoff-ridingon.com if you're thinking about trying a Mini Mondo or better still go to Austin's website and hear direct from the master by clicking on the button