Motorcycle trip from Canada to Ushuaia - with 60 and dog to the end of the world

At 60, Tracy sells her house and starts her motorcycle trip in Canada. In Colombia she rescues Roo - together they reach Ushuaia in Argentina. A journey through South America about doubt, speed and freedom.

We talk to people who live their lives differently - consciously, courageously, sometimes radically. Not to impress. But to inspire, to question and to show: There is another way. And that's okay.

This is not about empty phrases. Not about gloss. It's about real answers - to the questions you ask around the campfire when no one is making small talk anymore. Because when you're on the road, you have a lot to tell. And often more to give than you think.

Tracy Charles has been traveling by motorcycle for several years - permanently. What began as a spontaneous decision after an early retirement turned into a trip around the world on two wheels.

She sold her house in Canada, reduced her possessions to the bare essentials and set off south. Her goal: to ride as far as she could.

After four and a half years, she reached Ushuaia in Argentina - the "end of the world". On the way, she rescued a dog on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. Since then, she has never traveled alone. Roo sits on the back of the motorcycle.

Today she is planning her next stage: the west coast of Africa. We spoke to her about courage, doubt, speed, age and freedom.

"In the end, it's never as difficult as my head makes it out to be."

Who are you - and what was your life like before this journey?

I worked in a traditional 9-to-5 job for many years and raised my daughter alone after my husband died. Unexpectedly, the opportunity arose for me to retire much earlier. It was an easy decision for me - I seized the opportunity immediately.

Was this motorcycle trip a long-cherished dream?

No. It wasn't a lifelong dream. I had only just got my motorcycle license. The idea of traveling the world on a motorcycle was still fairly new.

When did you realize that there was no turning back?

When my house was sold after ten days and the new owners wanted to take it over three weeks later. I was officially homeless.

The second moment was when I sold my Jeep. That's when I realized that my motorcycle was now my only means of transportation. Since this radical new beginning, there have been countless "why" moments.

"I no longer have to prove anything to anyone - not even to myself."

What went differently than planned?

I thought I would travel around the world in four or five years. After four and a half years, I had only just completed my first continent: South America.

During the pandemic, I rescued a dog on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. I actually just wanted to look after her, have her neutered and give her into good hands. But at some point I fell in love with her - and somehow we became a team. I called her Roo.

Everything slowed down with Roo. No more seven, eight or nine-hour driving days. Border crossings took longer. We stayed in small towns for several days instead of just one night.

What was surprisingly easy - and what was unnecessarily difficult?

The fear of setting off disappeared almost immediately. A lot of well-intentioned advice turned out to be exaggerated. What was difficult was my head. I lose sleep if there's a particularly bad road ahead the next day - or even just a complicated driveway. I spent many nights lying awake worrying unnecessarily. In the end, however, it's never as difficult as my head makes it out to be.

"I was officially homeless."

Was there a moment that changed your self-confidence?

Yes, a cactus thorn stuck in the front tire in Mexico. It was Sunday, everything was closed. I sat down on the curb, watched a YouTube video and repaired the tire myself. The plug lasted another 15,000 kilometers. It was just a small thing - but it gave me the confidence that I could deal with anything that happened.

What does the motorcycle allow you to do that other means of transportation can't?

I can travel cheaply and get to places that are off the beaten track. I'm part of a great motorcycle community and never really feel alone.

My favorite moments are when people notice that there's a dog on the back of my bike. They look serious at first - and then they grin all over their face. It's as if we've just made their day.

Is there a moment that sums it all up for you?

Ushuaia. When I got there, I started to cry. I never thought I would be at this point one day. And I wasn't alone with my tears - men and women who arrived after me also had tears in their eyes.

Do you still plan today - or do you ride by feel?

At the beginning, I planned every day precisely: Roads, accommodation, refueling stops. That has changed. I change my plans all the time. I actually wanted to drive through Europe for several years - now I'm drawn to the west coast of Africa. It's a wonderful feeling to have this freedom.

What have you learned about your own limits?

That I can go further than I ever thought I could. Even when I'm exhausted, my mouth is dry with fear and my knees are shaking - I still manage to keep going.

What does courage mean to you today?

Courage means taking the first step towards something you are afraid of - even if you fail. Not everyone is prepared to even try.

"Everything slowed down with Roo."

Do you travel differently now than when you were 30?

Yes, in my thirties I mostly traveled to all-inclusive resorts or safe places. Today, I consciously choose countries that are often considered dangerous, but which I have experienced as beautiful, safe and friendly.

At 60, I still plan routes more carefully. A long recovery time after a broken bone is not on my agenda.

How do encounters change when people realize that you are travelling alone?

When I'm traveling with someone, the locals tend to keep their distance. When I'm alone, I arouse their curiosity. My motorcycle is quickly surrounded by people and I'm bombarded with questions. As a woman traveling alone, many people want to take care of me - with food, water, accommodation or good advice.

Where did you feel safest - and where were you most vulnerable?

I never felt unsafe with locals. However, I felt very unsafe three times - each time with male travelers from other countries. That made me suspicious for a while. At some point, I realized that not everyone is the same and started to enjoy encounters again.

Has your age brought you more advantages or obstacles?

More advantages. I no longer have to prove anything to anyone - not even to myself. I don't have to earn money on the road and I'm not looking for the perfect photo spot. Things that used to be important - hair, make-up, clothes - no longer play a role. Today, all that matters is the adventure and the people.

"In the end, only memories remain."

Would you do everything the same again?

Yes, any time. And I wouldn't change a thing. Everything that has happened along the way - both good and difficult - has shaped this journey.

What does "One Life. Live It." mean to you personally?

We tend to collect things and forget what really makes us happy. In the end, only memories remain. Make sure they are good ones.

What advice would you give to a woman in her 60s who is thinking about going off on her own?

If you're my age - around 60 - then just do it. We're at a stage in life where we shouldn't leave unfulfilled dreams behind.

There is no perfect moment.

No perfect age.

No perfect route.

ONE LIFE. LIVE IT.

Follow Tracy on:

• Instagram: tlc_travels
• Facebook: tracy.charles.98
• Youtube: youtube.com/c/TracyLynnCharles