The first time I went on a long motorcycle trip, I made the mistake of planning thoroughly. Yes, you read that right. In the weeks before my departure, I tried to think about every eventuality I could face and be prepared for it. With all of my “what if” gear in place, I was all set, in theory, at least.
Mounting all this luggage onto my motorcycle had to be done with some creativity and complete disregard for vehicle design and dynamics. The result was a bungling mess on two wheels, but I was not fazed because I believed I had everything required to take on the world. Cut to a few weeks later, and things were quite different.
As I went through the arduous process of loading and unloading the motorcycle every single day—often having to walk considerable distances or up several flights of stairs many times over just to keep all of my gear safe—I had ample time to evaluate whether all that I was carrying was truly worth the effort. The simple answer was no, and there began my seemingly never-ending pursuit to embrace a more minimalistic approach.
At this point, I will immediately clarify that while I have tried, time and again, to adopt the “less is more” philosophy, I will never make a genuine minimalist proud. Instead, I have embraced my reality and strive to overpack more intelligently.
One rule of thumb that has helped immensely is to never fill a bag to the brim. It’s easier said than done, but extremely effective in putting a check on things. This also leaves space for me to be lazy while packing on the go—things never fit together the same way as they do on Day 1—with some room for incidental additions to be made on the way. To give myself some credit, I’ve come a long way.
As for what goes inside, essentials aside, I now prioritise items based on daily utility rather than “worst case” planning. Anything “useful” that is unlikely to be used daily ranks lower than something indulgent that will be. So, while I have drastically trimmed the type of tools and spares that I carry, my coffee kit has become a bit larger. A few comforts go a long way in improving my overall travel experience.
I save weight and space where I can reasonably do so. I carry trekking pants instead of denim because they are lighter, pack smaller and offer many practical conveniences. The trade-off in terms of fashion is well worth the utility that it offers. This is more challenging with adventure and camping gear because prices are usually inversely proportional to size. So, I make upgrades, one piece of gear at a time, to shrink (and improve) my kit from one trip to the next.
While there is no perfect way to go about any of this, and there is a lot of room for subjectivity, I can assure you that, much like in life, travel is infinitely better sans the unnecessary baggage.