New Crazy Project: 12,700 km Solo by Motorcycle — Mongolia to France
A few days before his departure, Jean—26, a student wrapping up his studies after a final year in Bangkok—sat down with Planet Ride to talk about a plan that’s as simple as it is massive: fly to Ulaanbaatar, sort his bike, then ride back to France on a months-long crossing.
This interview is the mindset side of a Mongolia motorcycle trip: why you go, why you go alone, and how you keep the project alive when logistics, doubts, and fatigue start pushing back. Jean’s route is built around a realistic long-haul rhythm: not racing, not “hero mode”, but stacking days until a continent folds behind you. If you’re considering riding from Ulaanbaatar to France, his answers will feel familiar—and useful.
Exclusive interview with Jean, a few days before departure
Can you introduce yourself in a few words?
Jean: I’m Jean, 26, and I’m nearing the end of student life. My program should finish in Strasbourg in September—that’s the deadline I set for my project, BackpackerOnWheels. Until then, I’m using the time I have to build something that will last.
I grew up in a big family (five siblings), and I think that’s why I’m naturally social—curious, open, with very few preconceptions. My studies were pretty mixed: technical high school, then a two-year degree, then business studies, ending with a Master’s. I did my last year in Bangkok, Thailand. Professionally, I’ve moved around just as much, so I’ve worked in very different environments. Thailand was huge for me: a cultural shock, a new world, and great encounters.
Tell us about the project. What is Backpacker on Wheels?
Jean: For me, Backpacker On Wheels is much more than a roadtrip. After my exchange year in Thailand—the biggest cultural shift I’ve experienced—I realized a lot of people want to change their daily life, but few actually dare.
I want to show my generation that if you put the work in, you can achieve something big. In my case: crossing half the planet by motorcycle. And I hope it inspires other young people to launch their own big projects.
It’s also about something the internet has accelerated: fewer “intellectual borders.” I’m French and I don’t speak Russian, Chinese, or even Thai. Yet I still end up sharing real moments with someone who was a stranger five minutes earlier. I want to show my followers that even without a common language—or despite cultural gaps and preconceptions—people can connect.
Are you leaving with someone? A travel partner?
Jean: No—my only partner will be my motorcycle, and I’ll need to take care of it every day. I’m leaving to share local life, understand cultures, and learn from people. Going solo was the natural choice, because it forces you to approach others.
And paradoxically, even if you travel alone, you’re rarely truly alone on the road. You meet someone for a stretch, then another. When you’re the only one deciding the route, it’s easier to adapt day by day—and that flexibility makes meeting people easier. In New Zealand, I ended up traveling mostly with a Swedish guy I met there. We’re still in touch, and I should see them again on my route.
When do you leave? How long will the trip take?
Jean: If everything goes as planned, I’ll be on the road at the beginning of May. I estimated the itinerary with the necessary stages and daily distances. The result is a bit over three months and two weeks, and to be safe I’m adding around two extra weeks for the unexpected.
What’s the route? Fixed plan or room for improvisation?
Jean: The route is defined in broad strokes, and very precisely in some countries. Kazakhstan and Russia in particular require a detailed, day-by-day itinerary to get the visa that allows entry.
Later, in Europe, it’ll be much easier to adapt based on local advice—people on the ground always know better than you what’s truly worth seeing. One advantage of traveling solo is adjusting the plan to what the day brings. Improvisation has to stay important, so you remain open to opportunities.
What bike are you leaving with, and why?
Jean: I come from a biker family and studied mechanics, so two wheels felt obvious. As I’m speaking, I haven’t chosen the exact model yet—but it’s time, because departure is less than a month away. The freedom of a motorcycle—especially across Mongolia’s steppes and Kazakhstan’s mountains—should make it easier to move from one town to the next.
Where did the idea come from?
Jean: Two things sparked it: first, a documentary about a woman crossing Africa solo by motorcycle; second, meeting a young French guy in Bangkok who was riding from Thailand back to France… by bicycle. Big-scale projects.
Those stories stayed in my head until one night I literally dreamed of being on the road. Then it was just on me to make it real. When I looked into the timing of my exchange program, I realized that if I pushed hard immediately, I could free up the time window needed for a trip like this.
To sum it up: I sacrificed social life for a while—stacking classes and work to finish early. I did two semesters in one, plus two months, with night/weekend classes, and during the day an internship at the Bangkok Chamber of Commerce. That’s how I cleared the calendar.
What does this project represent for you?
Jean: A challenge—for me and for society. Many people think the reward isn’t worth the risk. “Risk” is a word everyone uses now. Of course you must think about risks and difficulties—that’s why I’ll avoid crossing Pakistan or Turkey alone, since those areas are sensitive, and I’m routing instead via North Asia and Central/Northern Europe.
But if you think only “risk”, you stop doing things. I want to show you can choose to leave home and do something big. If it inspires someone—or gives the missing push—then it’s already worth it.
Is a trip like this hard to set up?
Jean: Harder than I expected. Constraints I can’t control, finding sponsors to help financially, people’s surprising comments… I wasn’t ready for all that. Thankfully, supportive messages and encounters helped me keep going—plus the trust of sponsors.
Time was another big constraint: I gave myself less than three months for organization, fundraising, and admin. It was a serious challenge. The project has changed a lot compared to what I pitched in my first sponsor searches.
It wouldn’t have been possible without my close ones. Not just financially—they supported me despite their fears, proofread letters, advised me, and asked the hard questions. It’s a necessary grind if you want to do something this big and share it later.
Have you done similar roadtrips before?
Jean: Not at this scale—never. It’s a different dimension. But living one year in Thailand builds character. I’ve also done two Working Holiday Visas in Australia and New Zealand. I walked part of Tasmania solo. In New Zealand I did four of the nine “Great Walks” across the two islands. Big logistical challenges: surviving for two and five months on foot with everything you carry. And more “classic”: I lived in a car (not a van, a car) with two other people while traveling Australia’s East Coast.
What advice would you give future riders?
Jean: Be careful on the road—it’s not a racetrack. We’ve all been young with a license and that rush of confidence; on a motorcycle it can turn serious fast. I’ve already crashed, and it hurts physically and mentally. So: ride smart. And beyond that—let your ideas run, and enjoy every moment on the road.
Planet Ride’s pro tip (one thing we’d add before a long solo departure)
On a long-haul Mongolia motorcycle trip, the biggest risk isn’t only the route—it’s accumulated fatigue. A practical cadence many riders underestimate: plan “short” riding days regularly (the kind of day where you stop early, do chain/lube checks, laundry, admin, and simply sleep). It’s what keeps a multi-month ride from becoming a survival test.
Follow Jean’s journey
À savoir aujourd’hui
The spirit of this interview still holds: solo travel creates encounters, and flexibility is your strongest tool on a multi-country ride. What must be checked before leaving today are visa rules and required itineraries (which can change quickly), border/insurance requirements for a foreign-registered motorcycle, and any regional safety advisories along your chosen corridor.
