Expedition Portal isn't about how much you can spend on your vehicle, it's about how you use it to see the world around you. All too often we get caught up in the plethora of overland accessories and modifications and forget to actually go overlanding. Forum member Freebirds found that the small two-wheel-drive car belonging to his wife and him just wasn't making the cut when it came time to get the couple out in the backcountry for some mountain biking, canoeing, or camping. What to do? Buy the $450 1987 Toyota 4Runner sitting in your buddy's driveway and build it up on the cheap, with one simple goal—Moab or Bust. 

 Journal Entry, March 29^th

It is 2:30 a.m. The temperature outside the canvas wall of the rooftent is 50 degrees below zero Fahrenheit.

I retreat deeper into my sleeping bag, drawing my arms across my chest. I’m drifting between restless sleep and half-awake shivering; the slightest movement sucks frigid drafts around my face and neck, causing me to cough, lungs rebelling against air cold enough to injure them.

I am startled to alertness by what at first feels like a strong earth tremor, or a furious blast of wind. The truck and tent are shaking. Finally I realize that Pasquale, in the bag next to me, is shivering violently, interspersed with bouts of deep coughing.

“Pasquale! Are you okay?” I ask. He responds through chattering teeth, “I split out the zipper in my bag, and I can’t feel my legs.”

Fully awake now, I immediately yell to Chris, sleeping in the other tent mounted on the trailer. “Chris, get up! We need to get out ofhere, now!”

 Story originally published in Overland Journal

Charlie Nordstrom using the Katadyn Pocket in the clear waters of the Wakhan Corridor

Every backcountry traveler understands the critical importance of clean drinking water. While dehydration is no picnic and can ultimately kill you, drinking water rife with nasty critters can just as easily bring the Reaper or make you so sick you’ll be calling his name. The most common waterborne pathogens in North America aren’t all too terrible, but they do harbor the potential for serious illness or worse. These nefarious micro-villains go by the names E. Coli, Giardia, and Cryptosporidium. There are other potential waterborne uglies to worry about, but those are three most likely to find their way into your fancy Snow Peak cup and down your hatch.

FOR REASONS TOO STUPID to relate in a public forum, one morning my travel companion, Michael, and I were lazing around our hotel room in Hoi An discussing the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

My position on the matter was that there'd be a certain point at which it'd be better to be dead than to live in such a world. A point at which life and the world you live it in would be so bleak that a bullet or an overdose would be the way to go.

Nine months ago while Sheena and I were stranded in the Colombian mountains, we made a decision. If Nacho ever made it through South America, we would ship to Europe instead of our original plan of shipping to Asia. Things were getting difficult, and we needed a break. From Europe, if things got hard, we could always turn around and end up back in a familiar place. But then, after traveling in Chile and Argentina for five months, we were tired of things being easy. We wanted a challenge, so we switched our plan back to Asia.

Often times, the second you bring up traveling in Mexico or Central America—even to a ritzy resort—the response you get from people is quick and predictable. Don't Go There. It's Not Safe. You'll Die. Well, the usual response also happens to be the title of a new book for overlanders traveling in Mexico & Central America. Written by the fine people behind LifeRemotely.com, who just finished traveling through the area on their jaunt from Seattle to places south. The free Ebook (yes, free) has 315 pages of advice to help you prepare and plan your journey.