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• Part 4 |
• Part 5 |
• Part 6 |
• Part 7 |
• Part 8

 

Part 3.

Petaluma California to Lawrence Kansas - and our first meeting with TOL guys.

9 May 2014

Petaluma to Sonora via two different routes.

Early rise and breakfast at 0800. We do not need to check out until midday - but we intend to be well on the road by then. I wheel our bike to the far end of the carpark and drain the oil into a plastic container that Steve and Andi bought from the hardware shop a few days ago. Not a drop spilled. There are some metallic bits in the dregs that suggest our engine has some internal issues, but there is nothing we can do about this. We have a tool to fit the oil filter in order to remove it - but no spanner we have will fit the tool. I wait until 0900 then head to the hardware store and buy a socket drive that fits. $11.! Tools are so cheap here. Every bloke's shed we have yet visited is full of multi-drawed tool chests - plus they have all the gadgets to do all the fiddly stuff. Hardware stores have a vast range of stuff that we can only gaze at in awe. It still seems incongruous that we have so many tools at home - yet can only manage the barest of essentials here, and are reluctant to buy anything other than the absolute necessities. Oil changes and routine adjustments will hopefully be our only necessary tasks - although we have already had to make some repairs to several bikes that were simply pre-existing issues from their last owners.

Filter off and new one fitted, I refill the oil and clean up. All good. Relinquish guilt from having used the bike a bit before doing this. Just how it pans out. I wheel it back to our parking area as the rest of the gang prepare to leave. They will proceed direct from here to Sonora while we do battle with the inner city freeways. I have lost my anxiety at the thought and am now feeling quite excited at the prospect.

We finish our packing and I resign myself to having my camera around my neck - as there is simply no more space in the panniers. I also have my small wallet/passport pouch around my neck and under my jacket. I never go anywhere without it on my person. It is not heavy - but does make me look slightly pregnant. Such is life at the top.

All loaded up and off we go. A quick stop at Radio Shack to return some bits of the GPS we had overlooked, then onto the 101 to San Fran. A fast run at 11am on a Friday, catch up with another pair of rally folk on a late model Triumph twin. I slow and wave from the next lane - which is only a few feet away - then we accelerate again to flow with the fastest traffic as we approach the Richmond bridge. It reaches quite an altitude on the bridge and there is a reasonable wind blowing - you feel a lot more vulnerable to the elements on a bike. Closer to the city we race, picking up the 580, and later the West option of the same freeway. That leads on to the 880 south - this is the secret to route management here - memorise the numbers.! Exit 38a to High Street finally offers itself, and in a few minutes we are pulling up in Brent's driveway. No signs of life, but it is only 12.10 and we know that they have been shopping for Allan's riding gear this morning - so we sit on the step in the shade.

Allan and Brent show up 10 minutes later - great timing. We chat while Allan adorns himself with all the stuff you need to wear on a motorbike. I notice it is mostly black and figure he may get a tad hot out there on the concrete today. All the kit is stowed and we say farewell to Brent Lenehan - so grateful for all that he has done to help us on our way. What amazing friends we have made already. Allan asks me to be gentle - this is his first exposure to the freeway madness. I have no qualms. He can keep up with me - and I know where I am going. Cool.

Back down High Street we go. Quick right onto the 880 and we are immediately plunged into dense traffic. I choose a centre lane and cruise alongside large trucks. You simply have to trust that these juggernauts are going to stay in their lanes - if you don't - you can't do this. We make a few trial lane changes and Allan is hard on our heels. Ace.! This is going to be a piece of cake. We watch for the Freeway to alert us to new options, and soon spot our next route, the 238. This will lead us to the 580 which will mean we are retracing the final stages of our journey into San Fran a week ago. All is going swimmingly well, despite the increasing volume of traffic heading out of the city on a Friday afternoon. And then we stop. Four lanes. This looks familiar. Creep - stop, creep - stop, we idle along for miles. All lanes absolutely chocka. The heat is back with a vengeance and you can feel it coming up off the road surface. Probably high 30's right now. Finally after crawling up a long hill we come across the reason - a car has seized up and been dragged off the freeway leaving solid rubber scars. Another car is stationary - may have hit it. As soon as we are past, everyone floors it. Back to 80mph and our temperature gauges are immediately dropping. Phew.! I think that would have killed my old air-cooled Trident in one go. The pace remains brisk and we transition to the 205 heading for Manteca. A brief burst on the I-5 and then we enter the 120 and are in Manteca, where I suddenly spot a sign for Yosemite Ave - and whizz off the exit. Allan is ready for my last minute decision and joins us on a rough piece of 2 lane road in a strung out industrial neighbourhood. Damn - this doesn't look right. We follow the road dubiously for a short time until we see signs at an intersection. Yes - we are on Yosemite Ave - and this will lead us all the way to Sonora. We are beset by red light after red light, so take the opportunity to chat through our open visors as we sit in the queue. Allan has been through here some years ago and remembers an eating place that was good. We continue to Escalon and pull into 'Hulas'. Time for a break. Our lunch is presented by a charming young lady - great service we have been getting here. I think 'tipping' works you know..

This delightful waitress is holding a BLT with salad - $6.70.! Sue and I have been sharing one meal between us quite frequently - not wishing to come home any bigger than we left. Of course - when I am drinking - I always think I can manage one on my own. Which I do. But I shouldn't... The salads are fresh and delightful to eat - so we choose salad instead of fries every time. You can eat well and healthily in America - you just have to choose carefully. You also need to watch what other people are being delivered in order to ascertain if the place you are in does large servings - or enormous ones. Often it is the latter. Some meals are delivered with a separate salad which is the same size as the meal itself. Oh it's such fun heehee.

We text the gang. They are at Dildo or some equally unlikely sounding place, apparently about 40 miles from us, but on a different route. We finish our meal and gear up - chatting to the owner of a lovely Plymouth Road Runner parked next to us. Off for Sonora this time. The road from Manteca has been hot and flat and annoying, but now we ride along miles of almond trees, gradually climbing out of the heat. The road opens up into bushclad low hills and curves about this way and that. This is more like it. We start to see mention of Sonora on the signposts, but end up on a bypass road which seems in danger of shooting us straight on by. Decide to take an exit and almost immediately come across a gas station. That's us. We fuel up and ask directions to the Country Inn - which I booked last night from Petaluma at $79 per room. It is back along the bypass a few minutes, so we do that and soon find the place. Ride in to see Beth's bike parked all by itself. Check in and are steered to the carpark around the back. We cruise around there and find all and sundry lounging by the pool or fiddling with bikes in the carpark. I will leave you to decide which were the girls and which were the blokes.

A quick settle in and we decide to head down town for a meal. As there are now 13 of us, Brent offers to shuttle two loads in the van. The aircon packed up today, so it is nice that we are at a bit of altitude and the temps are pleasant. Allan once bought a Rocket 3 from Bill Walker Senior who lives here in Sonora - so phones him to ask if he can recommend an aircon service locally. Bill offers to look at it for us as he happens to be in the aircon business. Well well. The universe is still favouring us it seems. We will see Bill in the morning, so it's nighttime Sonora for us. We blunder into a small bar and enjoy a few rounds with the locals. All are friendly and chatty. There is to be a big Parade through town tomorrow - which explains all the chairs we have seen lined up along the sidewalk for several blocks. They stay put overnight - so all have reserved their seats. Quaint eh.? From the bar we walk a few doors to enjoy another large meal all in fine spirits. The bikes went well - the aircon failed - on a balance it has been a successful day. From my perspective - we rode in and out of San Fran without a single glitch or navigational error. I reckon we are getting the hang of this. I think the maps will soon be favoured as much as the GPS to find our way.

We will have a meeting in the morning to decide our plans. It seems they will hinge on the fate of the aircon. We are heading for Death Valley. It would be tough going in the van without it. It will be pretty tough on the riders too - but hey - we are.

Oh.

Today I am mostly drinking Lagunitas IPA...

10 May 2014

Day in Sonora.

It is Saturday morning. Most are going to see the big parade - Allan, Beth and I will wait for Bill Walker to turn up and see what repairs we might effect on the van. Bill shows up on a new Triumph Rocket 3 - monster of a thing. We all shake hands - he is a likeable fellow from the start. Runs his eye over the aircon gubbings and checks the gas pressure. Sounds low to him. If it loses gas, the compressor will refuse to run - hence the sudden cessation of coolness. Looks as if we have a gas leak. We drive to a hardware outfit called NAPA. They sell aircon gas in aerosol cans for a princely $27 per can. As our van has front and rear air it will need 2 cans. We then follow Bill to a friend's house and 'Red' opens his garage for us to nose the van in. They study the pipework and Bill spots the problem - a leak in the nigh pressure line just behind the grille - conveniently placed so they can tighten it through the grille. The two cans are now added with some gauges attached so that it can look scientific. It seems to be working but not quite enough gas. A large container of gas mysteriously appears from the depths of the garage and we achieve something resembling a full charge. The aircon appears to be blowing cold too - so disaster averted. Neither man will accept any payment, so we head back towards town for a coffee with Bill. We are also able to return the empty cannisters and get a $20 refund. After coffee and a bite, we head to Bill's place to check out his cave. Great spot on 5 acres, homebuilt shed and caravan based living. He has all he needs here. He wants to show us a movie - which turns out to be the inaugural run of the very same Rocket 3 he later sold to Allan and now lives in NZ. Bit of a history loop there. He gives the repair a second look, and it seems we still have a slight leak. Hopefully it will continue to work for the time-being, but we can have it repaired along the way - now we know the cause. Friends reunited..

We return to the Inn early afternoon and the crew are also back - the parade was a great success. A few small repairs are completed and half the group elect to ride to Angels Camp, and motor off in dribs and other things. Us remaining 6 decide to drive that way in the van. We initially head too far out of town and are reigned in by the domineering GPS. Making a legal U turn we retrace our steps and take an exit down the Main street of old Jamestown. This is all old gold mining territory, so the streets are very narrow and the buildings mostly original. As we drive along marveling at the scene it suddenly occurs that we should stop here. A bit of an explore then we cruise into the bar at the National Hotel - boasting continuous service since 1859.! We were probably still building huts on swamps then. Come to think of it - we are still doing the same thing. Lovely Hotel with some dedicated restoration to the decor.

We enjoy a few beers and some tasty red wine - recommended by the Barman - who is the owner's son. It turns out to be a very nice wine - so here it comes folks - take this down; Sobon Estate - Zinfandel - 2013. Highly praised in our circle. There is a large restaurant here, so we phone up the riders and steer them in this direction. They arrive 10 minutes before our tables are ready - perfect. Once again we are seated together for our evening meal. This is so much how I intended the trip to come together. Spontaneous venues for the whole group to share - with the bonus that we get to communicate our experiences of the day, and our plans for the next.

As you may have gathered - we had decided to spend a day here in order to effect repairs - the nature of which were uncertain, so we were not able to plan. As rooms were at a premium here with the parade and all, we chose to secure a second night's stay while the going was good. We were also a tad undecided as to our route west. From Sonora there are two choices on offer to reach the 395 on the far side of the Sierra Nevadas. The main tourist route through Yosemite, or the 108 direct from here through the Sonora Pass. We needed to decide where, how, when.

During the course of the day we spoke with several people and mentioned the possibilities. These routes are closed over winter, and at least one of them had only opened in the last few days. We had a few things to consider.

We enjoy our meals and our interaction with staff and locals. After settling up and paying the necessary bribes we retire to our motel with the understanding that we will arise early and head for the Sonora Pass - being the most direct route, and the lower of the two passes - hence easier on our van which will be towing a bike on the trailer plus 3 persons onboard.

Zzzzzz.....

11 May 2014

Sonora to Lone Pine via the Sonora Pass.

This morning I awake at 0530 - wide awake. Surprising as I finished writing 2 days worth of blog at 0130. I guess I am running on a fair bit of adrenalin. Alarm is set for 0600 but as I am awake I go and shower. Our motel is comfortable and offers a free breakfast. The aforementioned seems to consist of a sweet pastry and coffee made with highly chlorinated water, so today we are planning to give it a miss and get on the road early. I take the first of our bags out to the van at 0620 and Steve is already out there. He will be driving today, and takes the job seriously. Packing the van is an artform - especially if you wish to retain any rear vision through the inside mirror - and as that is the only way to observe the behaviour of your precious bike on the trailer - it is well worth being clever with the large stack of luggage at the very rear of the van. Other stuff finds it's way under the rear seats and on the rear seat, but the bulky stuff is furthest aft. When driving, all one's bike gear and helmets and panniers need to be stashed within - so the van is quite a packmule.

All are packing their bikes in the next 20 minutes, and making sure nothing is left behind. The Office is late opening so we miss our 0700 departure. Steve and Andi's bike gets loaded on the trailer with the assistance of four blokes, plus Andi spotting ground clearance. Our trailer has a couple of design flaws which suggest it was intended for dirt bikes rather than our long and low tourers, and the channels the wheels go in do not accommodate the wide rear tyres. We intend to modify this, but it requires a weekday and an engineering shop to provide the expertise - although we have considered buying a grinder and doing it ourselves. For now - it is just a real nuisance, as it is causing damage to the undersides of our fairings.

Loaded and geared up, we pull out around 0735. Steve leads the way onto the bypass outside the motel, but then makes a left turn at the first traffic lights when we are all fairly certain that we should be proceeding straight ahead. Once again, our GPS has given us the wrong info - due we suspect to the maps being well out of date. This road does not exist for it, and it wants to steer us elsewhere. We have a quick conflab then swing around and resume our original course. This road leads us west through the outskirts of Sonora and almost immediately we are surrounded by trees and thick vegetation. The road is already climbing - a nice smooth 4 lane which soon narrows to a 2 lane with no centre median. It already feels fairly normal to be on the right side of the road - but we still give way to everything at intersections as we can be easily fooled into making mistakes. Before long the van is feeling the strain of it's tow, and as we know the route, some bikes go on ahead. The road continues to climb at quite a steep rate with the denser low trees having given way to tall forest trees - I imagine they are mostly redwoods. Signs giving our altitude go by at regular intervals - 2000, 3000, 4000ft and we are still climbing. The cool morning air was seen as a blessing - as it can get very hot out on the highway - but up here it is getting more cold than cool, and there is a stiff wind. At some point the road flattens out a bit, but continues to climb and descend most of the time. American roads do not often include 'cuttings' as we have them at home - they simply follow the contours of the earth - so there are many gradients that are much steeper than we are used to. We are out in front but feeling the cold, so when a lookout point presents itself we stop by the roadside, so the next riders will see us. Tom rolls up - riding alone today through the twisties to get to grips with the bike, while Helen joins the van crew. We wait here in the chilling wind, trying to thaw our frozen hands. 10 minutes go by and we decide to carry on to a more sheltered spot seeing the rest are obviously some way back. We find a place with a few buildings and stop there, thinking we might be able to buy coffee. Sue checks the store but they have not yet opened after the winter season, so not much they can do for us. The sun is winning here, so we thaw out and wait. Soon the bikes appear and pull in one by one, followed by the van a bit later. All have various frozen bits, so this is a merciful stop. Full compliment.

Today for the first time, Sue has the GoPro camera attached to the top of her helmet. The remote control is not happy, so she removes her glove to press the button to take photos. It works for some time then gets pushed around by the strong wind and the ensuing photos are then not usable. This was at the early stage before we entered the forest proper.

Later on and further in..

We are doing about 55-60mph here - we have to keep thinking mph instead of kph - as these are faster, so they can get you into trouble quicker.

With that in mind, we pass the group and adopt a more 65-70mph approach..

The road gets higher and tighter, and the speed comes down to much lower figures as we negotiate steep descending turns with a bit of loose metal thrown in for good measure. In places there are 12 foot tall marker posts at the roadside, whose purpose is to indicate the depth of snow.! As if to remind us, snow begins to appear amongst the trees, then grow deeper until there is a heavy bank of it all along the roadside. We finally reach the summit at 9600ft. Damn - this is taller than Mt Ruapehu and we're riding bikes over it.! We begin the steep descent, then find a place to pull over and wait for all to arrive. It does not take long and then we are all talking at once about the experience. What a ride. What a place. What a brave team we have - nobody flinched - just got on with the job. Brilliant people.!

We continue descending for ages, finally coming out onto level and fairly barren ground until meeting the 395 - still around 6000ft. First stop from here is a small and deserted looking place called Bridgeport, where we fuel up at a grumpy gas station and then find a place for our belated breakfast. Warmth at last.

Turns out breakfast is off, so we get the lunch menu instead. Who cares - it is most welcome and we are very grateful. We are becoming adept at tipping. They deliver our bill to the table, with tax already added. We simply double the tax amount and add it to our payment. At first it seems an imposition, but we soon accept that it is simply an integral part of the bill. An unexpected bonus. All the girls are presented with flowers for Mothers Day. What a lovely touch. More than makes up for Mr Grumpy at the gas station.!

We aim our rejuvenated selves at various chilled saddles and move on. To our relief, the road begins to descend again and we soon feel a rise in the air temp. We move briskly around the perimeter of Mono Lake, and out into more flat and vast landscapes with tall mountains to our right - these are the Sierra Nevadas through which we have come. We stop to look down the long and broad valley where our next fuel stop will be, the town of Bishop. Mr Green has been performing very well..

The best part of stopping and seeing the others go by, is that you get to play catch-up, and as the traffic hereabouts is moving at quite a respectable pace, we are able to hook along at 80mph keeping a wary eye out for any vigilant law enforcers.

We refuel at Bishop and chat in the sun which now feels a little more serious. Last leg now to Lone Pine - the final staging post for our assault on Death Valley tomorrow. Our motel shows up just as we enter town, cheap and cheerful, and nobody notices when we sit around the swimming pool and demolish Tom and Helen's 5 litre cask of Cabernet from Walmart. No laughing in the back row - it is actually quite a pleasant drop. We shall buy more. A stroll down the main drag to find dinner sees us in the Totem Cafe, where we get good service and fairly good food. For the second time today, the girls are all given flowers for Mother's Day. Nice touch. Especially when they arrive with the cheesecake.! Ann and Helen seem suitably pleased.

We stroll back to the motel after a cheery meal. Tomorrow we will be up early - to get through Death Valley before it gets too hot, so it is back to our rooms, and the necessary preparations before bed.

After I do the blog of course..

12 May 2014

Lone Pine to Las Vegas via Death Valley.

Up at 0600 and begin packing. First bag out the door by 0630 and begin loading the van. Attach the trailer and load our bike. We have sort of adopted a system whereby the driver (and bike owner..) is responsible for the final securing of bike or bikes to trailer. We know that with all the best intent in the world - nobody will be as careful with your bike as you are. It also removes any possible misunderstandings about assuming someone else has taken care of something then discovering otherwise. Even though we are trying hard to keep our communication on the ball - it is easy to miss someone when there are 13 pairs of ears to reach.

The ever present Mt Whitney dominates the street next to the motel as we cross to the gas station next door and all gas up. I had bargained on each of us spending $20 per day on fuel for the bikes, plus another $20 per day on fuel for the van. So far the van is consuming much less than half that amount - bikes about $15 a day.

So that's nice.

We learned from another biker yesterday that there is a good breakfast place at Olancha - 20 miles south, so we head that way just after 0700 - bikes out front. The bikes disappear from view fairly quickly, and we cruise along at 65mph with our cargo. Speed limit is 55mph for trailers, which means we are unlikely to get nabbed if we do not exceed 65mph. It's a bit like the tax thing - you get used to it. Fairly soon we arrive where the bikes are already parked outside the Ranch House Cafe. Lovely cool morning with not much wind. Perfect conditions for traversing Death Valley. Brent and Allan checking out the bikes while I check the tiedowns on the trailer. Not often we get all 9 bikes in shot. Be good when Gary joins us and we have 10 bikes.!

We are greeted here by a very efficient woman in blue dungarees and a floral shirt. We get the impression she is German or Austrian. She rattles through our orders and food begins appearing almost immediately. The place is very old and the walls are adorned with ancient photos and historical memorabilia - as are many over here. The poached eggs are perfect, and this energetic person manages our billing arrangements in fine style. We tend to confuse many cafe staff with our wish to be billed as couples - rather than one single bill for everything. They comply - but we can tell it is not the norm. All fed, we head for the street and mount up. Bikes are away in front again, and we do not see them again until the first road junction where they have paused for some reason. They move off as we approach, so we maintain our cruise and begin a climb into the hills. While not too steep, the climb continues rather relentlessly and we pass through several hills continuing east. Eventually we arrive at a crest and descend towards a lookout point with our first view of Death Valley. Although thousands of feet below our lofty vantage point - it has a strange glow to it and looks like the surface of the moon on a golden night. There are several groups of bikes in this carpark, but ours is by far the largest, and we get a lot of scrutiny. We have only seen one other group with a backup vehicle - a Harley benefit heading up the Sonora Pass as we were coming down. We resume progress and it is a steep descent now. Thousands of feet in quick time, the van in 3rd gear to save the brakes. It takes a long time to reach the valley floor - then we are here - a place of legends. I am surprised to see that there is some vegetation - presumably because it is early spring and some moisture made it's way here over winter. The distance across this part is only about 5 miles or less, and there is a road junction in the middle. We can see the bikes have stopped up ahead and slow to stop behind them. We crowd around - the usual joking and checking in with each other - but we are rather awe struck. This is a fairly insane part of the planet. People talk about it in hushed tones. One expects to get vaporised within seconds. Other vehicles slow and stop nearby - airconditioners humming. I imagine that the sight of a band of Kiwis clowning around in the sand of Death Valley may not fit their impression of the ferocious powers of nature - but we seem to be getting away with it. It's a LOL moment. I try the desert crawl I have seen in so many cartoons..

Maybe you can see in the photo that the road climbs rapidly on the far side. It is in fact an extremely arduous climb when towing. The main risk when towing is cooking the auto transmission, so adopting a moderate approach is the best course. We have the thing locked in second gear for some miles - pulling over whenever possible to allow cars to pass. American drivers are actually very patient when stuck behind slower traffic - they are more accustomed to dense traffic than we are, but I prefer not to be inconsiderate when slowing them down. Apparently they have guns. A monster climb is again followed by a steep descent, then we are in a much broader valley with the same strange sheen to it. We see signs which declare we are at sea level. More strange when you have just experienced adequate proof that the surrounding terrain is actually thousands of feet above sea level. What a land of contrasts this is. From high passes to low deserts within two days. It does make some strong impressions. Here are the bikes climbing out of the scorch. Just look how far that climb continues - and our lot are out there doing it.!

On the far end of our trip through here, we climb further south at a more moderate rate. There is a town called Furnace Creek - there's an image for you - but soon after we pass that place of seeming uninhabitable earth, there is a monstrous tourist resort - elaborate in it's design. I would not be wanting to pay their aircon bill..

Then we come to an area with a great number of tourist coaches all parked up. As we pass by we see a small sign - "Where they made the final scene in the movie Zabriski Point".

This is America. A land of immense contrast and natural beauty - inhabited by millions who are more enamoured of the theatrical rendition rather than the reality. It explains so much when you get to observe them in their unnatural habitat.

As a side note to that - every salad we have had over here has been beautifully fresh. We can't even buy fresh lettuce in our local supermarket at home - it is already wilting. So - I fear that the Americans have actually perfected synthetic lettuce.! Every butter, cream, yoghurt we have been able to read the label on seems to have very little connection with any natural substance I can name. Now that is scary.

But I digress.

We climb away from the desert bits and arrive on a flat stretch of countryside which is fairly devoid of vegetation or features. A few small towns are dispensed with until we come to the Pahrump valley, then continue down to the town thereof. We find a shopping centre and look for lunch. We also buy a few supplies from Walmart. Leaving this town we join a 4 lane freeway and plough on in the direction of Vegas. The road is dead straight for ages, then finally turns to skirt some hills and we arrive at a gas station 13 miles out. The riders gas up, and now the van leads into town - GPS on the alert. The GPS finds the street the Hotel is in, but not the street number I think is correct. We duck around a few freeway changes then find ourselves in Paseo Verde Parkway. No sign of the Hotel, but it is a very pretty street which wanders on for quite some miles. Finally the road runs out - so I have to dig my netbook out of the luggage and check the number. It is quite a way back, so we retrace our steps, get steered into a carpark or two and still no Hotel. I phone the place and discover that their entrance is not on this street at all, but around the next corner. The bikes head away and we follow, only to see them all disappearing into an underground carpark one driveway too early. They finally catch up after Sue races out to guide them in. The Hotel is monstrous, with valet parking and all the drama. They seem a bit unhappy to have our van and trailer on their forecourt, so rush out with a trolley and begin stacking our luggage on it. The bikes only serve to really upset their sense of aesthetics, and they explain several differing ideas about where we should park. It is rather difficult to say the least - especially with a weary crew who are ready to rip a few throats out. None are offered. We manage the ordeal, although one bag remains missing - perhaps it is under the seat of the van - which is too far away to be bothered checking this evening. I booked this Hotel last night in Lone Pine. It looked a bit different and up-market, but was offering quite cheap room rates. Turns out it is part of a casino complex in a nice neighbourhood, with pools and gardens, and the most elaborate decor you could imagine.

We all sign in and discover that there are a few hidden charges. In retrospect, it is still a very good deal considering the luxury we now find ourselves immersed in. The free breakfast alone eventually proves to be a smorgasbord of immense proportions, and it seems possible that we can consume way more than the extra taxes cost in food alone in the time provided. We will have two nights here to recover from two fairly serious days of adventure. Yay us.!

Sue and I take a walk in the evening and give dinner a miss. We do put paid to a nice Merlot, and figure that would be enough calories for the night. We make our way to room 8122 in the East Tower, along corridors that would have Dr Who bemused..

Night all.

13 May 2014

Day off in Las Vegas..!!

We will visit a bike shop or two, muck about, and visit the strip. Hey - we are in Vegas - it is de rigeur.

We will start the day with our free breakfast. OMG. The buffet is about two miles long, and filled with just about everything. Let's see. I have a piece of teryaki chicken, a small sausage with a few half tomatoes, Canadian bacon, two rounds of toast, two poached eggs, various large pieces of pineapple and melon, a few spoonfuls of home baked potatoes (thin sliced - excellent), orange juice and a decanter of coffee. Might just spend the day here. I take a few seconds getting that lot down then go hunting for any tasty morsels I may have overlooked. I try a few things - but am relieved to find that my first impressions were spot on. I find a few cookies to mop up the last two cups of coffee and I am done. If I can manage this again tomorrow morning I feel I will have consumed an equal amount in dollar value as the two nights worth of 'resort fee' at $28 per. Apparently it was at the very bottom of the web page. Figures. Otherwise, we are in the lap of luxury and could not be happier than a mouse in a weetbix packet.

We visit the Triumph Dealers - nothing much for us here - although they have a pretty comprehensive lineup of new bikes. They also have a tasty display of restored Hondas - which is interesting ..

We then head to a Cycle Gear shop - the 'one size fits all' place. Amongst other things, we buy a new ramp for the trailer. We were intending to modify the original, but instead choose to bypass the problem. This is a folding aluminium jobbie like one John French had - and hopefully will transform the loading/unloading procedure.

In the evening we take a shuttle to the strip. Holy cow.! It is so much over the top we just have to keep looking for more and more. We take the monorail train thing from one Casino to another - as well as walking for miles in the places where the monorail doesn't go. This is inside the Luxor Hotel..

We sample some very tasty pizza, and watch the downtown antics with great amazement/amusement, see some fabulous shops and artwork, visit numerous Hotels/Casinos, then catch the shuttle home with perfect timing. I saw things that surpass anything I have seen on tv. The sheer scale of the place is awe inspiring - so it is easy to understand why this seems to be the type of experience so many Americans aspire to. Quite surreal.

Back in our own Hotel/Casino we take a wander down to the Casino. I notice that none of the punters are smiling. Gambling seems to be a grim business. Our happy demeanour seems to puzzle many of our fellow guests - although all those we speak to are ready to share the fun - they just fail to generate any by themselves, and mostly - they are by themselves. Interesting, but slightly sad.

We head back to our room late to pack. Brent captured the best sign we have seen to date..

14 May 2014

Las Vegas to Williams via route 66.

Leaving our palace in Vegas, we head for the Hoover Dam. Masterpiece of engineering, only recently has a new bridge removed the traffic from the dam itself - so now it is full of tourists. Like us. We always cause a bit of a stir when we arrive places. In this case, the security takes an instant dislike to our van. If you were ever looking for a suspiciously loaded van - this would be the one to get. Bags and helmets and panniers and all manner of bomb-shaped articles - so Thomas and Marian are duly evicted from the area, and only the bikes are allowed through. Shame for them, but they wait patiently up the hill a bit until we have a look around. Apart from crawling with people, it is a difficult place to get any perspective from. The true magnitude is only visible from a distance - and probably from a helicopter - so we do not get any awe-inspiring photos. This one however may show how much aesthetic consideration the Americans afford such structural enterprise.

But we were here. And we can say we did it. Move on.

From the Dam we head south east down the 93 to Kingman. This is a bleak and blustery stretch of road. Sue has the GoPro camera on top of her helmet and the wind is pushing it around so much we are afraid of losing the whole thing, so stop and take it off. Miles and miles of straight road with no features to interest, so we take some pleasure in picking off the traffic. We come upon a large group of Harleys with a couple of other brands mixed in. Blow past them all, waving but no response. Shortly after, one of their number tears past us, then pulls to the right with hazard lights flashing and drops back. I thought he may have been a bit pissed at our blowing them all off and just showing he could match us - oh the delicate male ego - but thinking about it as we drone along, decide he was trying to slow us down. The speed limit out there is 65mph, but as in NZ the rule of thumb is that you are safe up to 75mph before they will bother giving you a 'citation'. With our slightly happy speedos, that means an indicated 85mph - which we were doing. We have noticed that there is a certain degree of 'righteous' attitude prevalent among the general populace - and they can be very ready to point out if anyone should be towing the line a little more. We certainly have no intention of offending anyone, nor coming to the attention of the law, but at the same time we intend to benefit from the same rules as apply to all here. Perhaps to clarify this a little more - we wave to all oncoming motorcyclists out on the highway - but often Harley riders do not acknowledge us. Riders of sports bikes on the other hand always wave. We get the feeling that the 'Harley' brotherhood hold themselves slightly apart from just motorcyclists in general here. Maybe everywhere. Damn - we don't even have tattoos.! Except Thomas. And some of the girls - but I am not meant to know that...

We stop at "Grasshopper Junction", a nondescript little spot all alone on the highway for a drink. Turns out to be a little gem with a very nice lady proprietor who supplies all we need. I buy a beer. She insists that I put it in a paper bag if I intend to drink it outside. Perhaps I should also go around to the reserve next to the shop. I am bemused. This place is in the middle of nowhere. There are actual tumbleweeds here.! These folk are very law abiding to the point of being paranoid. There is a marijuana shop next door...

From here we complete the road to Kingman and make a fuel stop. The lad at the counter gives helpful advice and hands out Arizona maps to all. He also tells us the way to Route 66, as this will be our first exposure to that famous and atmospheric highway. Stuff of legends for us road generation blokes. Leaving Kingman is a blast of old roadside memorabilia - much of the feeling that songs and stories of Route 66 evoked are still here. The old cafes and faded roadside attractions still look great - decades after the cars stopped coming this way. Now there is new interest from the tourist sector, and it seems there may be a return to life on 66. Neat.!

The highway itself is in good repair here. A well engineered two lane with good surface and cambers. Very devoid of corners which was befitting the handling attributes of most American cars of the era. We travel alongside the railway for many miles and see stupendously long trains with 3 locos up front and 2 at the rear. Seem to be about half a mile long. Long train running..

These days the bikes are mostly out front and the van further back. Usually you still have bikes up ahead or close behind though. Unless it's both..

We stop at Peach Springs for a break. It is the Hualapai Reservation, and a large modern building offers us food and drink while conveying some of their cultural history. Only a brief stop here as we still have a way to go today, and time is wasting away. We are travelling through different time zones, and a late arrival may cost us a booking. We press on along the expansive horizons that abound now, and finally meet the Interstate at Seligman. Some of the troop take the Interstate directly to save time, we stay with route 66 until there is no longer a choice and join route 40 into Williams. The rest of the group are at the first gas station, as are numerous Harleys. These guys are friendly, and it transpires they are on an annual pilgrimage to Washington to raise awareness for the plight of the Vietnam Vets. Huge numbers of them continue to arrive downtown as we pass through on the way to our motel.

Perfectly pleasant digs for the night, and we get ferried downtown for a meal by Brent. We chose Cruisers Cafe 66 as our spot for the night. The place is pretty packed and all are having a good time. The Grand Canyon beer comes in many guises and is pleasantly strong. Food is commensurate with American Diner style fare, and just fine for us. Very heavy on the meat options, and pork ribs are a favourite. Between the beans and the beer - I certainly felt the effects.! This is our gang..

And the photographer..

Back to the motel and sleep.

15 May 2014

Williams to Kayenta via Grand Canyon.

Awake at 0530 to numerous voices and Harleys checking out. They must have a big day planned. People are lining the highway and waving flags. These guys have a lot of public support. Good to think that Vietnam Vets are finally getting some recognition. Rather ironic that it might come from a large group of motorcyclists. Kiwi bikers should take note. Your exorbitant and unfairly levied ACC payments might be given some serious consideration if you amass enough bikes to clog the streets of Wellington - especially around the Houses of Parliament. Nothing gets Politicians going like having to forego dinner.!

We pack up, grab a free breakfast and begin loading. The plan today is to ride straight up the 64 to Grand Canyon, have a look around, then east via the same highway to Cameron - the junction with the 89. We are getting the hang of American highways - it is all about the numbers. Often you do not see any mention of towns that you are searching for - only the highway numbers let you know that you are still on track. Half way to GC we pause at the Valle airport, where there is a 'Planes of Fame' museum. We get a tour of a rather famous Super Constellation and a poke around the hangar. An awful lot of stuff here in a seemingly out-of-the-way place. An unexpected gem.

There are times when we ask ourselves - "would Thomas be into this.?" Would he hell...

After some light-hearted frivolity, we resume our travels. We see our first wildlife of any size - a coyote trots off the highway on our approach. Shortly afterwards, as we are manoeuvring around the Grand Canyon village we see two Deer, happily ignoring the traffic. Early lunch here after which we park near the visitor centre and take a walk along the rim of the Canyon along with hundreds of other visitors. The size of the Canyon is awesome, and once again, you can only appreciate a very small part of it from any given vantage point. Suffice to say, looking down to the floor was enough to induce vertigo in a few of the group. This place is erosion at it's finest. We did not have time to trek down the steep tracks, only to observe others doing so. This is a whirlwind tour of American scenic highlights.! Mind you - there is no denying the impact of viewing such things with your own eyes.

There ensues a beautiful ride through forests of the National Park keeping eyes peeled for stray wildlife. This unfortunately keeps us to a speed of about 30mph - and there is such a queue of traffic that we know the leading truck will have killed the wandering wildlife long before we encounter it. So thats nice..

Once clear of the trees we sweep down from this plateau to the most amazing views of pink and purple hills in the far distance, with shimmering pale dunes at their bases. Quite spectacular, but boding rather high temperatures to be encountered. We have no idea what to expect - but it will no doubt be a new experience.

There are many rough roadside markets on this stretch, where the Indian people are selling their crafts. Many of them look to be shabby and poorly contrived, whilst there are some that have obviously had the blessing of more funding. We are not sure what this means, but our instincts would tell us that the shabby ones are probably more authentic. We finally arrive at Cameron to find a rather desolate road junction and not much besides.

We wait at one of the gas stations for some time - then begin to consider that more of the crew may be at another. We locate a few others and move to where they are. Limited phone coms are becoming a problem. Those who went with smaller networks are finding that their phones have no coverage in small places such as this. Considering that this is our only means of finding each other - it is a problem indeed. We eventually resume the cruise north on the 89 until we reach the junction with the 160 and turn east again, in the direction of Kayenta. A bit like a desert on this first stretch..

We climb to another plateau and the scenery changes in an instant. Here there is nothing but red soil and red rock. It is astounding each time this happens - it appears that the current scenery goes on forever - then suddenly the vegetation and the geography/geology take a radical change and you are in a new landscape. Most pleasing to encounter and one reason why we are never bored with whatever scenery comes our way. Whatever it is - it will change soon - and radically..

We reach Tuba city and pause to regroup, pulling out again in front of a large fleet of school buses. There is a law against passing them when stopped to unload, so I have no wish to get caught up. The red soil gives way to something like tussock grass, with occasional clusters of green. Life looks tough for plants out here. We are at around 5000ft. I spy stationary traffic up ahead. Damn. Traffic holdups are a total pain on a bike in this heat. Miraculously - just as I slow to stop behind the very last car, it begins to move, and the whole line continues to slowly pick up speed. We find the problem - there is a patch of new tarseal. But this is America. The patch is about 6 miles long. It is glistening wet to the eye - but nothing is sticking to our tyres - for which we are immenseley grateful. The oncoming traffic has obviously been stopped as we are diverted to the left side of the road. For the first time since arriving in America I am riding on the left side of the road. Our side. And I feel distinctly uncomfortable. We reach the end of the new seal and there is a queue of traffic a mile long.

Unfortunately, there is also now a mile of condensed traffic in front of us, so as they spread out we begin to leapfrog vehicles, one, two, three at a time - making the most of the long straight roads to just remain on the left until a distant oncoming vehicle signals the need to find a suitable gap to drop into. A 4 wheel drive goes by at considerable speed - using the same approach. We use him as cover. Steve decides to overtake but the guy gets excited and tries to hold him out. We keep watch from a safe distance. My speedo hits an all time high so far - 110mph. Hmmm. Still seems to have a fair bit left..

If that sounds dangerous - it certainly doesn't feel so. Sue still manages to take a pic..

What a rush. We watch as the car Dude speeds off into the distance - too risky for us, but the adrenalin really woke us up and we make the last miles to Kayenta in short time. We swarm at the gas station considering our options. We have no booking in place for tonight and I am hoping we can move on to Mexican Hat. That would put me close enough to Monument Valley to go in at night with a bottle of tequila. Beth is missing. Nobody has seen her since Cameron, and it is possible that she has missed the turn to Kayenta. We check the local accommodation while we wait to see if she turns up. There are only two obvious places - first wants something like $230 per room - colossal price. The second is conservative at $190.! Must be some sort of monopoly here. Besides that - no alcohol on sale here. This is Indian Country. Beth shows up just as Allan is about to mount the search party. She is pretty beat as are others - due to the heat.

We bite the bullet and check in to the Hampton Inn. We have noticed that one of the trailer wheels is losing air at an increasing rate, so we will need the help of a tyre outfit. This does not look like the right place to find one, so we will kip here and press on to Durango tomorrow - should find what we need there.

We decide to hold a meeting before dinner to compare notes on our operating procedures so far. One of our failures has been a lack of adequate route preparation inasmuch as some riders do not know our precise destination or the route to it. No problem when travelling within sight of each other, but as riders adopt their own speed and timing, some become separated and a few mistakes have occurred. Nothing serious - but nor can we allow there to be. We now have decided a more disciplined approach to discussing the actual planning to all - plus delegating various things like weather research, bookings for the next day, maps and stops. Tomorrow will be the testing of the new regime. We eat a very prolonged meal served by a terminally confused waitress, but as she is so sweet we do our best to be patient.

We then retire to chez Kilroy/Red and polish off the remainder of the Walmart red wine.

Better than a poke in the eye with a pointy stick...

16 May 2014

Kayenta to Durango via Monument Valley.

The plan we made was to leave Kayenta at 0730. This meant rising early enough to have breakfast, load van and bikes, gas up and hit the road. As it pans out, we head for the gas station at about 0735 having unloaded and reloaded two bikes on the trailer last night after reinflating the ailing tyre. The tyre still looks ok this morning so it is gas up and go.

This morning we will ride Monument Valley. This is a biggie for me. Holding as I do a strong belief that nothing is stronger than the mind, I have had a picture of Monument Valley as my desktop wallpaper for absolutely months now - secure in the knowledge that if I can think myself there - I can be there. Today it will happen. After 4 years of planning I still had no idea if we really could fund this trip up until a few weeks ago - so it became a matter of just adopting the mindset that it was a done deal. And so it happened. And today I will breathe in the proof. Woot.!

We set out in cool air - considering we are at around 6000ft that is purely logical - but it adds a quality to the air as we ride toward that atmospheric place. The colours are crisp and the scenery begins to change as soon as we head out the 163.

We stop at the turnoff to the visitor centre to compare notes. The average quick stop looks like this..

The van arrives and we head up a side road to the Navajo Visitor Centre, only to find that there is a fairly stiff entry fee. We are finding a pattern with Tribal territory. Discretion being the better part of fiscal acuity we retreat. Navajo 1, us nil. Obviously we are intended to make our own discovery of Monument Valley. So we do. Sue is ready with the GoPro..

Allan has the map..

We ride through Monument Valley, drinking in the atmosphere. This is a very powerful place to any human. I have identified the very spot where my desktop photo was taken, and we soon find it. This is where we assemble for a bit of fun time and a chance to record everyone as present. Kind of a photographic role call.!

Andi and Steve are in their colour co-ordinated best gear..

Beth and Di are ready for anything at all..

Helen and Tom are also competing for the colour matching prize with a silver and blue theme..

Brent and Anne are not colour matched but obviously a matched pair..

Thomas is toasting the occasion..

While Marian is the dark horse..

And here we are. We have imagined this for so long - and now we are here - it is so much as we thought - and yet so so different. Too big to take hold of in the moment. We shall record these images and digest it over the next few weeks. And while we do - there will be a million more images to flash through in our minds. This is why we do this. We gather images in our minds as well as on our cameras - and then we have them forever. How precious this moment for us. Mr Green obliges as a camera platform.

After which I ride it myself for the record. Well - you would have to don't you think.?

Huge thanks to all of you who helped me get here. Sue, family, these wonderful friends who are sharing the dream, and all of you who are reading this. The shared thought is capable of great things - and you all thought this into being. I hope you are able to draw something from these words and images. We send love to you all.

My final thanks go to Mr Green. A tireless and faithful steed. My misgivings have proven unfounded thus far, and he obeys every command in an efficient and capable manner. Yay.! Let's hear it for Mr Green.!

I am prepared for some huge anticlimax after this momentus occasion, but the road forward still holds many wonderful surprises today. We ride down into Mexican Hat - a quaint little place on the very edge of the Colorado river with rock formations on the skyline that gave rise to the name. From here we continue to a cool little place called Bluff which features a notable landmark known as Twin Rocks, where the girls discover a great little craft shop/art studio and vanish in a purchasing frenzy. I check around outside where the eroded rock theme is continuing.

And why "Twin Rocks" you ask.?

But how about this. I spy a neat old truck around the back. It looks photogenic. But what do I see.? Lyttelton NZ was where we were living when I first thought of Ride America. Spooky eh.?

Finally prising the girls from their glittering fantasy land we ride on along a nice curvy road between cliffs and river, albeit with some rather awkward lumps in the road surface. Aah - just like home. We reach the junction to the 160 and turn south briefly to reach a place called Four Corners. This is the intersection of four states of America. When we arrive there is another fee collection agency and a large volume of incoming traffic. The riders elect to continue rather than a. pay money, b.take all their gear off, so while Allan and Beth in the van go in for a look, we others take the road north to Montezuma Creek - catching our first glimpses of the snowclad Rocky Mountains on the way in. Somebody spots a roadside refreshment place and hauls in. We find they sell smoothies here - and it is so hot that most order one. They are simply brilliant - probably the second best smoothies on the planet - so your choice is safe, and yet we can convey our appreciation of what we got here in an appropriate fashion. Ann's face expresses what we are all feeling. Brain freeze.!

Meanwhile the bikes languish in the heat. Temp here is probably around the mid to high 30's - average fare for the locals - extreme heat for us even in our mesh type local riding gear. Any shade is highly desirable.

A tad cooler we head into downtown Montezuma Creek - a fairly basic looking borough but it has a gas station and we need such. As usual, we storm the place and take over every pump available. The locals find us interesting and are all over us in double quick time. It is an interesting situation. Whilst we are trusting of all we meet, we still manage to keep some people on the forecourt while others go in to pay. We would prefer to consider that these people are simply interested in learning something about who we are and what we are up to - but we also intend to preserve all our loosely attached baggage for our own use only - so we adopt a cautionary approach. So far we have had no reason for concern, but we know - as they probably imagine - we will not return here, so anything we "lose" might quickly be considered a lost cause. I prefer to assume that all is well unless proven otherwise, but I understand the need for caution. This is a big undertaking for us, and a relatively minor loss could still be a major inconvenience for our crew. We are very much alert during our stops. This little guy was just fun though..

Our next town is Cortez. This is an area where there are ancient cliff dwellings that look amazing on the internet. We did not see any. In fact - I cannot even remember Cortez at all. My next vivid recollection is entering the outskirts of Durango and finding a lot of roadworks. For the uninitiated, roadworks are the bane of a motorcyclists existence. Gone is the smooth flow of forward momentum, and the stop, creep, stop, creep progress has our cooling fans all buzzing while we are slowly cooking in the heat. This is the end of a rather momentous day, and we are very eager to reach our place of temporary residence and be able to relax and cool down. Our motel turns up quickly on the main drag through town, so we heave to and join forces with the other arrivals. It is always a journey of discovery when we attempt to invoke our reservations - mostly because they are very recent as in last night, but also because many of these places have still not adapted to life via the internet - even though their establishments are advertised there. This place works ok, and we have rooms sorted before the van turns up. Which it does in fine style. With a police car in attendance, and a flat tyre on the trailer. The police took exception to Allan changing lanes without notifying them in triplicate beforehand. The tyre has needed inflating several times in the last few hours, but it just so happens that there is a tyre shop next door to the motel. Hahaha. Steve will be shaking his head. I break out the van jack and tools in the vain hope that I might be able to remove the wheel. Everything fits and I have it off in minutes. A large woodscrew is the self-evident culprit. I carry the wheel next door and they repair it for $14. It is back on the trailer an hour later.

The force is with us.

We hold another meeting about the plan from here. We have ridden for 3 consecutive days - so a day off is due. We could either press on to Pueblo or stay here. Pueblo is on the far side of two passes over the Rockies and there has been recent snow. The first pass is 10,000ft. Apparently the weather forecast is fine here and rain in Pueblo. We stay.

Downtown for dinner. The gang who rode through town on the way in have spotted a likely restaurant. The motel clerk gives it his nod of approval. So it is we end up at "Ken and Sue's" for dinner. How cool.! Looks like Brent took the photo as he is the only one missing..

Pleased to say that our namesakes do not let us down. Our meal is excellent and we are most relieved to have ended up in such a place after a big day on the road. What an amazing day it has been too - with all that we have seen and experienced - both expected and otherwise. Much more than we could have imagined. We leave a note for the owners who are absent for the weekend. Ken and Sue from New Zealand were here too. And we approve most wholeheartedly. Thanks to all concerned. Durango is looking like a very nice town.

A monumental (?) day and the magic keeps on coming. So cool. Chiz.

17 May 2014

Day off in Durango. Double the delight. Up late. We go to Walmart and find a new wheel and tyre for our trailer for a paltry $90 - and it is already inflated. It's true - they have everything.! The puncture event made us realise that we could get crippled by such an event in future, so now we are covered. We invent a way to lock it to the rear of the trailer toolbox next to John French's fuel container. As the days go by we continue to fill in the blanks that were missing from our initial planning. You make it up as you go along. All is as it should be.

I spend many hours catching up with the blog.

We wander down town late afternoon and head to the Diamond Belle Saloon. It wears the atmosphere of an authentic Western style Bar, to the extent that the waitresses are adorned in period costume. Most fetching.

I order an IPA and this is what turns up.

Mexican for dinner and a huge ice cream for dessert. Mine is peanut butter flavour. Better than you would think. We head home and I receive an email from my son advising me that I should make a point of trying any IPA I find from Stone Brewery. How about that. Guess I got the thought in advance.

More blog til 0130. Some day off..

18 May 2014

Durango to Pueblo.

Agreed start is 0730. We leave very close to that. Bikes out front and van behind - everyone knows where we are going, and where the first stop will be. It is in fact - Pagosa Springs. We enjoy coffee/tea there. A cool ride, but not cold. Nice sweeping roads with farms and trees as we gradually gain more height than the 6000ft odd that Durango is already at. We meet a local Gal on a Harley at the gas station. She has a heated jacket. She tells us the Wolf Pass is a most amazing ride with lots of switchbacks - but this is her first time at attempting the crossing. We are only 80 miles from Durango where she lives.! We are all aghast that such a thing should be so. We live in a tiny pair of islands in the South Pacific and spend our time exploring the farthest reaches they have to offer - and here where they have the most stupendous roads - they often remain at home and not explore even the limits of their own State. In this respect we are quite different, and yet it is a common fact that Kiwis range far and wide across the planet. Perhaps it is our confined local geography that causes us to be so determined to explore the entire planet. After Pagosa Springs we climb more seriously until it becomes obvious we are on the side of a mountain, and we find the switchbacks. Even so, it is almost freeway standard road surface, so we are able to maintain good speed right to the top of Wolf Creek Pass. This is our highest Pass to date at 10,850ft. A lot of snow about, but not much signage to mark the actual crest, so we have passed it before thinking that we should record such an auspicious climb. Looking back to the summit with Thomas inbound centre.

There are tunnels on the way down which make us appreciate that the current levels of snow are very managable by local standards. I do not feel any need to slow down at all..

The next tunnel has a handy warning sign that it is indeed a tunnel. I am greatly relieved. For a moment I thought it was a gateway to another universe. Unfortunately - one with Harleys..

But mostly it is a river valley that we follow all the way down. Alpine scenery for miles, then some long windy straights before we ride into Monte Vista for a fuel stop. Pretty on the way in..

We fuel up and wait for the van to arrive - a tough haul for it with 2 bikes on the trailer and 3 passengers.

Soon numbers are complete, and we decide to make our next stop Fort Garland, as that is before the second Pass. We find a Diner at Fort Garland - which is at the far end of a long straight and flat stretch of highway - there are many such roads here, and we are beginning to see the similarities in them. We console ourselves by gazing into the back yards along the way - bristling as they are, with numerous cars and parts thereof - plus trucks and machinery - sometimes deliberately posed for the driver to gaze upon as he flashes by.

The Diner features many pictures of Elvis Presley. Sue puts money in the jukebox, but I doubt that a small thermonuclear warhead would have elicited much of a dance from the clientele here. Burgers and usual American fare all round, then we hit the trail. The second pass is a lesser affair - north La Veta Pass at 9400ft. It is over quickly and nobody froze at either of these great heights. Compare them to our own mountains. Seriously high to be exposed on a motorcycle really - despite our bulky clobber.

The second Pass is despatched with hardly a murmur, as it comes and goes with hardly a mention. We continue on to Walsenburg where we park in front of a local church for 20 minutes for the van to come with our water supplies. Which we make good use of. The next stretch will be the final burst to Pueblo. There is a hot wind blowing from the Rockies - where our two Passes have been, and we all look for shady places to loiter while getting ready for the off. When we finally move off as a group, a monstrous coal train splits us in two sections, so we wait on the far side of the crossing lest the tail enders lose their way. 117 bulk carriages later we are reunited, and join the busy freeway to Pueblo.

The traffic is quite heavy as we merge into the 85 heading north. Not often do we see the speed limit as 70mph, but it is here. Most freeways or Interstates are 65mph max. This means most of the traffic will be doing 75mph. I tend to do the same - otherwise the cars bunch up behind you. Here we can safely do 80mph - so we do. It seems quite remarkable to me that several of our group would never have cruised at 80mph before. Now - only weeks in to the tour, they not only manage such speeds with no drama, but they also are able to maintain these speeds within several feet of each other when required - this is truly an amazing transition. We tend to bunch up to keep our share of the road clear of other vehicles, and unless we are fairly tightly grouped, other vehicles will push in and spread us increasingly further apart. So - we have learned new road skills, and we have discovered that we can travel fast and safely together. A pretty important part of such an ambitious tour when you consider the miles we have to cover. My speedo would suggest that Mr Green has nearly covered 2000 miles in my hands already - and I was not united with it until San Fran. Only another 10,000 to go...

We manage the navigation of this stretch well, find the correct freeway exit and fuel up within a few hundred metres of our stay for the night. The La Quinta Inn is modern and affordable. One catch is that our rooms are on the fourth floor - which makes lugging bags a tad more arduous. We unload and reload the bike trailer before having a meeting and then adjourning to a wholesome and alcohol-free restaurant across the parking lot. As I said - there are catches..

On the other hand - the standard of luxury is ample, so Brent gets the award for looking after us all. We agree on another early start, so it is off to bed with few shenanigans for us. I actually manage to fall asleep whilst writing this blog for your edification - so I trust I managed to maintain the plot.

Bye for now.

19 May 2014

Pueblo to Dodge City.

Early start again. The weather forecast is predicting unseasonal high temps through Colorado and Kansas - so we hope to get most of the miles behind us in the morning. About 280 miles from Pueblo to Dodge City, and it is bound to be flat and straight - so the discomfort can set in without some adrenalin to offset it. We backtrack a couple of freeway exits and join highway 50 to all points east. Still being at some altitude - around 5000ft - it cools significantly overnight. That's good - because it gets stinking hot during the day. Pueblo - 0700.

So at 0730, it is not clear how cold our gear needs to insulate against before it gets so hot that we need to discard bits of it. I choose jacket with liner - pants without. Despite the morning cool, it is a brilliant ride out. We clear the heavy traffic and cruise along at 75mph with a tail wind making life a bit easier. The temp is perfect, and our first stop at La Junta arrives quickly. A drink and a snack and we set off again. Next stop is to be Lamar. It is flat and straight indeed, but there is plenty to look at. Mostly American front/back yards. A colossal number of cars are stashed around this country - mostly American manufactured - which are kind of rare to us. Some are strategically placed as if on display along the fence line, along with all manner of machinery and trucks etc. Endless musing for the vehicle orientated among us.

The smell of cattleyards precedes the picture. We have seen these before on the I-5 up to San Fran, and it took miles to get the smell out of the van. Bare dirt paddocks, cattle with no shelter from the heat, troughs of grain, thousands of beasts with heads therein. This is your grain fed beef. Not sure how their innards cope with it, but it does not smell pleasant. Many many such yards on this stretch of road today, and the smell permeates everything. Think I'm going back to being a vegetarian. Maybe next week...

Still a few oil pumps out here too. They are very visible from the road, and no attempt is made to disguise all the pipework and associated manky bits that are needed to suck goo from the ground. Usually there is a strong sulphur-ish smell as we go by acres of these. Once again - the mind digests such imagery whilst also coping with the necessities of keeping us alive on our metal steed as we flash by scene after scene. I saw Las Vegas. Huge city with a constant stream of rabid gamblers arriving by the second - we saw the jets arriving in a steady flow - and yet the place was so clean. Manicured gardens and roadside verges. The suburb we stayed in - Green Valley - was beautifully presented - we were overjoyed to be finding ourselves in such surroundings. The national parks we have seen, like Grand Canyon and Monument Valley, clean and tidy - obviously great pride in such assets. So what's with the "countryside" then? It seems to be plundered for anything like a natural resource. No worries how the rural landscape is tainted by industry or pollutants. The machine needs feeding of course, but there is this huge discrepency between urban tidiness and rural plunder. The American people are fabulous - friendly and open to engagement - but it seems they are losing their countryside to the overpowering dollar machine. It is very sad for me to observe. The average farmer is likely finding times very hard, and the path they have embarked on would be extremely hard to reverse. Merely an observation from a tourist who lives in a country whose income depends on food exports which are managed in a fairly environmentally conscious fashion. These are purely the thoughts that I try to capture for you on these pages - the contrast that you see and then fail to see thereafter because it becomes the norm. If I do not record such things as they enter my mind they are lost within a few days. No doubt it will strike a chord with my Kiwi readers - not necessarily any of the international viewers - and I have no wish to appear critical - just an observer from another culture. I do understand that these mass production techniques explain how we can buy huge meat meals for around $10. Find me a bean sprout quick...

Today we are mostly belting along the wide open spaces..

We reach Lamar and I am at the front of the pack. I am looking for a shady place to pull over - one that will accommodate 8 bikes and a van. Nothing much is suggesting itself, and our route requires a left turn in the main street. At the same time I spot a whole block of empty carparks on the left side of the road ahead, so I ignore the turn then make a left turn at the next corner which develops into a U turn. Many interesctions have signs forbidding U turns. This is one. However, you can make a left turn into a side street, then U turn in that side street and arrive back at the same intersection turning right - thus completing a U turn via a side street. We do. 7 bikes line up in the shade. We have no sooner dismounted when the last bike appears and follows the route without spotting us. In quick succession the van arrives and does the same, so we mount up again and take the same route. The van has stopped - they had seen us at the last moment. The next town is Holly, so we join the traffic and head there. Our standing orders are reviewed daily as we discover what works and what does not. The main theme out here on the flat lands is to cover ground quickly, so extra stops are counter-productive. If one bike is going to stop - then the van will also need to stop - as the van needs to be tail-end-charlie in case of a breakdown. No point in stopping here as well. We shall proceed. Holly is only 20 odd miles further on, so we get there fairly quickly and mob the local gas station. The staff are always friendly at these stops, and wish us safe journey. It maybe a trite customer pleasing discipline, but it does work. You feel the connection. I would like to hug many of these people - I just don't think they are ready for it...

Now we are noticing a new phenomenon. Grain silos. In the middle of seemingly nowhere, there is now always a grain silo on the horizon. Hey - grain has to be stored somewhere - obviously by the main road makes sense.

It is now around midday and the heat is becoming a real factor. The heat emanating from inside the trailing edges of the fairing of my bike is seriously cooking my legs. If I move my legs to the outer edges of the footpegs then Sue cops it. The accumulated heat coming up from the road surface keeps the soles of your boots scorchy hot, and you watch the other riders doing strange things with their legs to attempt cooling manoeuvres. Despite leaving at 0730 the heat has caught up with us. We may need to move the timing forward even further.

And so it is that we come to Dodge City. A name we remember from comics and western movies. We ride into town. We heave to at our lodgings and tether the ponies. We wander across the street into the nearest saloon and order drinks.

Many of the crew head downtown in the van to take advantage of some of the facets of simply being in "Dodge City". This is an historic place folks. Anyone who ever followed the Western Movies would feel an association just with the name. A place of gunfights and history changing events. We are in awe of such things. They catch a shootout at "Boothill".

There are other facets to the Wild West of course - the railroads came through here..

It is only natural that one might try to fit oneself into such scenes that shaped the world as we now know it. Di gives it a go..

A facet of Dodge City lingers with me. The smell of the cattle yards is obviously slightly upwind of our motel - and it comes through the air conditioner. Not the best. Grain fed you say.? Not for me.

Never mind. This has been a real event - being in Dodge. The fact that there was a Bar over the road seemed entirely fitting - even though we did not need to tether our particular brand of steeds outside. I guess we should have - and recorded the event on camera. Missed that. Next time around Dudes.!

Thank you for having us Dodge. Thanks for the culture America. Early night for most.

20 May 2014

Dodge City to Emporia.

In light of yesterday's discoveries, today we will leave at 0630. This will have a twofold effect, for we underwent a time displacement of 1 hour on the way to Dodge. By leaving 1 clock hour earlier we will in fact be leaving 2 daylight hours earlier. This will extend our travel time in cooler air. Everyone has arranged their own breakfast last night, and every single one of us is loaded up and ready for the off at 0630 precisely. Today we are going to Emporia, a University town just shy of Kansas City. The heat we encountered yesterday made riding quite difficult for some, so we are abbreviating this leg by stopping short of Lawrence, Kansas after around 230 miles. We will stay at Emporia and complete the trip to Lawrence the following morning.

Lawrence has a specific import for us - it is a rendezvous point for the first "Triplesonlone" member, Keith Fellenstein. Any meeting with a fellow bike enthusiast is very important to us for several reasons. Firstly because I have been corresponding with these guys for more than a decade, but also because they have sheds and tools, and as every biker knows - you sometimes need more tools than you can carry. I made contact with Keith last night and he is amenable to our using his garage for some routine maintenance. We also need to modify our bike trailer slightly and this requires the use of an angle grinder - Keith offered to line one up for us. Brilliant. I truly hope that I may be able to offer the same assistance to any of these guys who make it over our way. I will certainly be encouraging them to do it.!

But to this morning. We head out soon after sunrise, and as we are heading northeast this means that the sun is well placed to be a bit of a nuisance. Nice images as we traverse a major wind farm though..

The wind farm is ginormous, and there is already enough wind happening to have them all turning. We hurry by eager to put miles behind us in the morning cool. I find myself in a group of 5 bikes travelling in front of the van, while 2 more bikes are somewhere further back. We happen upon a sudden route diversion that catches us napping, so we overshoot the turnoff. Heave to in the back streets of a small town for a few minutes while we orientate ourselves, then head in the general direction of the plan. That works well enough, and we are soon humming along a cool highway again. We reach another town and a rider stopped because of a visibility problem - as in - they can't see. Some of our helmet visors are not as obedient as they could be. A few minutes and we are good to go - meanwhile 2 bikes have moved on. Us remaining 3 hit the road again, and shortly after I see a piece of plastic fairing fly off one of the two bikes ahead. I turn around to retrieve it - it is obviously from Marian's black Ducati. It looks undamaged. Great - this bit could be worth several hundred dollars. We regain cruising speed, only to meet the front 2 bikes coming back - waving to say they have lost something. We wave to signify we have found something. Blast. How far do we let them go back to look for it.? Stop and turn around again. Half a mile and we meet them coming towards us again. They got the message. These brief pauses in forward progress actually cost a lot of time. We pull over to look at the bit and the gap. It seems something may be missing, so choose to ride on with Sue holding on to the offending bodywork. In the meantime, a pickup has stopped to offer assistance. Nice folk, and we explain and thank them. We ride on to Great Bend and finally all assemble at the same petrol station. Time for a late breakfast.

Some time later we resume our push across this rapidly heating flat land. During our meal break the temp has risen noticeably. Gear on and out the gate before we overheat. We do battle with the trucks and faster cars on our bit of the highway

Things that might impact on your blood pressure part II.

1. Our rear vision mirrors make things look further away than they really are - so this is not a good look.

2. You notice this..

To the uninitiated, the following facts can be gleaned in the cockpit.

a. We are doing 80 mph with that bleedin great truck right behind us.

b. The low fuel warning light is on.

c. The fuel gauge is reading empty.

None of these facts are destined to create a feeling of well-being - but never mind, a bucket of statin drugs will surely rectify matters. And give me diabetes...

In actual fact - we have sufficient horsepower to make that large truck diminish in the distance in a trice if I choose to open the throttle - and secondly - we have just refuelled - so in fact we have a malfunction in the fuel monitoring dept. So really - I couldn't give a big rats bum. I'm just winding you up.

Our next stop is Hillsboro - but it appears to be some distance from the freeway and we decide not to go in. Such a deviation will cost even more time. Because of this we miss a map briefing, and soon find the lead bike waiting at a junction and signalling a left turn. I have studied the map and know that our true path lies straight ahead - so I signal my intention and blast on. It is a very long time before I see headlights in my mirror and know that other bikes have followed my lead. We thus arrive at Emporia and the first petrol station a little ahead of the other bikes - but really only seconds.

All arrive and our motel is just along the road a bit, so we head there. As we are early checking in, they have to search for clean rooms for us all, and we are spread out a bit. No worries. We are allocated rooms and unload all our luggage and stash it. We clean up and hold a meeting in the lobby two hours later. This is our current modus operandi. The meeting is mostly to decide where we go tomorrow, and how long we stay there. As we shall have assistance and tools available, we opt to spend two nights in Lawrence to adjust chains, sort problems with various bikes, and modify our trailer to make our ramp work better. We will also leave early in the morning and ride the Flint Hills - a road that Keith has recommended as worthy of our attention.

After the meeting we head downtown for a wander around Emporia. Brent visits the local swimming pool and is bemused by the sign that asks patrons to please leave their guns outside. It is for real.!

Feeling the effects of only 4 hours sleep the previous night, I fall asleep at the keyboard for the second night in a row. At least I have managed one and a half days blog by then.!

I shall sleep now.

21 May 2014

Emporia to Lawrence - via the Flint Hills.

Wake up in Emporia. Unusual name. University town with graduation day imminent - but no visible signs of students letting off steam that we can discern. The summer holiday season will begin for most of America at the beginning of next month. For us that will mean higher prices and less available accommodation. Oh well - we will get more cunning.

Cooked breakfast at the Inn and then we begin packing. At 0730 we are mostly ready and eager to go. This morning we are riding the Flint Hills - a scenic route from Strong City to Topeka, one that local bikers favour and passed on by Keith. After our days of hot straight highways this sounds very attractive. Initially we must backtrack 16 miles west to Strong City to pick up the 177 heading north to Council Grove. From the start this is a lovely road. Still straight but undulating and pretty. Everything is green here - a huge contrast to what we have seen of Kansas so far. The small farms are tidy and cared for - so some small farmers are still making a living. We like this a lot.

The cattle are grazing in fields - this is more the side of America we wish to enjoy - and these pastoral scenes remind us of home. We reach Council Grove - a pretty little town in the midst of lush landscape. Lots of trees in these small towns - it still gets very hot here and shelter is important. We pass through and continue north, but near Alta Vista we turn east onto old highway 4 and continue our way towards Eskridge. This town is mostly deserted and folorn. This is the pattern we have observed in our traverse of several states out here in the middle. Big farms have eclipsed small farms who cannot compete pricewise. A long drought has actually eliminated some farms chances of survival. Many small towns are semi-abandoned as presuambly folks have migrated to the bigger cities. In time people will return to the smaller towns, as life tends to revolve in cycles. For the time being - it looks bad for small town America.

We continue through this idyllic landscape and eventually join the Interstate highway. Back to mass traffic and rush. Hard to reconcile this with the rural tranquility we have just enjoyed. Merely a few hundred metres and the world is different. We circumnavigate Topeka and take the lesser route - the 40 to Lawrence. A lovely road which sweeps this way and that whilst the Interstate nearby cuts a swathe through the countryside for impatient traffic to speed it's way to and from the daily drudgery.

We enter Lawrence by a sweet road, and wend our way through pleasant streets to Keith's house. There is a large group of people standing in the driveway - the welcoming committee. We mob them.

I finally meet Keith - a man I have communicated with for some years via the internet. He is more agreeable than I could have imagined - just like John and Brent. He has similar ideals as me. He does similar work to me. He can turn his hand to many things. I have always wondered how the people I communicate with can be of such similar mindset when they come from such different backgrounds. My current theory has been that they were influenced by similar things when at an impressionable age. Like British bikes. I am finding that this is a common denominator - and yet there is much more. Whether or not you admired a motorcycle that a friend/relative owned when you were in your teens still does not explain why you might hold similar views on many facets of life as another individual on the planet who was also impressed by a British motorcycle - or any motorcycle for that matter. No - I think it is more about the mindset of that individual in the first place - and the focus on a certain type of machine secondly. I believe more now - having met several examples face-to-face, that we are kindred spirits first, and then people who appreciate these machines second. We are humans who exist worlds apart - and yet we already have the similar characteristics that make us focus on certain lifestyle choices that are the same. Having now met a number of Keith's friends - and finding that I not only understand them, but agree with most of their views of life, I can only accept that there is much more to it than a love of some breed of motorcycle. We speak the same language. We tell the same jokes. We like to laugh and appreciate natural things on this planet we share. If I were ever to say that I belonged to something, it would be to this group of people with a common mindset. I have no wish to categorise us, and we are not the kind of people who would ever wish to be known as followers of this or that - but we are the same - and we are grateful when we meet others of similar persuasion. We have been blessed by the knowing of these guys ( and gals..) here, and they have welcomed us into their lives. We would take as much pleasure in doing the same should they come our way. It is a singular recognition of human versus human. I have been intrigued by this conundrum for many years, as to what the common denominator might be, but I am now beginning to accept that we are similar people who perchance happened to focus on the same things as being desirable ways to view the universe. This is so much more acceptable than just a bunch of old buggers who like noisy old motorbikes. We are connoiseurs of a certain way of life, and our choice of vehicles is just a reflection of that. So very pleased to know you mates. My place is yours - but you already knew that...

We had intended to get busy with much mechanical work at this point, but were instead fascinated with this communication with friendly strangers. And yet they are not strange at all. They are instead strangely familiar. Lunch is mentioned in the same sentence as 'brewpub' - and all thoughts of work are immediately shelved in favour of sharing such an experience together. This is how we would have wanted to play the same scene at our place. Perfect. We all congregate at the "free State Brewing Co.", drink excellent beer, eat fabulous food, and talk non-stop in an attempt to bridge many years of individual experience. In the end, we realise that despite the years and the miles between, we have in many ways shared similar lives, and that makes us in some strange way family. I like my new family. We all do. We want to take then home. Maybe in time - we shall.

After our delightful sojourn we address the pressing mechanical necessities of fettling our steeds. Keith is able to provide the many tools we lack to facilitate this, and does so with the utmost grace. John and Brent had shown us the same courtesy. It is difficult to have people invade your work space, and yet we do, and they all allow us to do so. Utmost respect and gratitude my friends - you have given us much more than a helping hand. By the time we close play for the afternoon, we have virtually completed all the bike maintenance - only the trailer mods to be completed in the morning. We share an evening meal together then retreat to our respective abodes. Lawrence has been a special place for us, and we rejoice in our new allies. I have no more superlatives to describe it. Thanks a million.

This is the happy lunchtime group at the Free State Brewing Co. They even have beer made with hops from Brightwater - in Nelson, NZ. Spooky again. Of course - we have to return for an evening meal - the food and drink is simply too good not to. That and the company. When I look around, everyone is talking to everyone. Within our group of 13 bods, we are usually just engaged in talking with each other. We have crises to resolve as we learn about dealing with the stresses of non-stop touring - staying in hotels and motels - some of whom recently made multiple charges to our credit cards - inexcusable behaviour really - but extremely difficult to resolve when you are travelling - so we talk it through and try to relieve the stress involved. Now - we are in the arms of friends again, and revelling in their company and their local knowledge. We do not require anything more than friendship - and yet we feel that we are given much more. To all our TOL friends, and to all evolved motorcyclists everywhere - thanks for being there. It is everything. We are a band of vagabonds and we recognise the same qualities in you.

This is what we came here for. Fellowship of men.

.. and women. Keith's Elaine is as singularly charming as he is. I guess that figures.

Cheers.

Kilroy.

22 May 2014

A day off in Lawrence, Kansas.

Time to lick the wounds. And do the washing (how reality sucks..).

The plan - is there a plan.? - is to head around to Keith's mid-morning, and resume our labours. An intermittent problem with Steve's bike has become a serious issue. It won't start. That's fairly big when you're half way to nowhere in particular - but with a really long way to go. That is the first priority. We begin pulling bits of bodywork off it as soon as we arrive, with Keith keeping a watchful eye on our progress - whilst showing us images of many tasty machines that have spent time in his care. Our problem is fairly quickly narrowed down to a fault with the clutch operated switch that prevents you starting the bike without operating the clutch. In case you left it in gear. It's a bit like all the safety courses you ever attended - which are basically - don't run with scissors. Don't start your bike unless you really want to start your bike. And then we'll find a reason why you shouldn't. What is it with this world. We are being conned out of taking risks. If nobody takes risks - will we not run out of ideas.? Besides the clutch operated switch, there is also a sidestand operated switch - and that one will let you start the bike - but kill the engine should you even dream of putting it in gear. Crap. We have all fallen foul of that one now. If they stop you from ever learning by your mistakes - you just don't learn. Eh Thomas? Anyway, it is finally discovered - by several of the best analytical minds in the universe - working in unison - that there is a break in a single wire. A rather well hidden wire. A wire that might take seventeen months of sundays to locate. So we don't. We just bypass the bloody thing. Suddenly and without due warning - Steve has a bike that starts again. Nobody ran naked in the streets shouting "Eureka" - but we felt reasonably smug that we had mastered the challenge. Damn - it is almost enough to go and have another beery lunch. But we don't. We suddenly remember the trailer. Ah yes. Aeons ago - probably last Friday - I had texted Keith and asked if he had an angle grinder we might borrow. He didn't - but he borrowed one. So that's nice. We have a loading ramp that doesn't work. So we bought another loading ramp that doesn't work. So then we realised the inevitable truth - we will have to make at least one ramp work ourselves. With our bare minds. And a grinder. Which Keith has. I can hardly conceal my glee at this point. And 7 bourbons. Steve - the man of the hour, mans the grinder, and in no time at all, actually gets it to go. Shortly thereafter, he has levelled the Empire State Building, and several short people who happen by. Now he has the bit between his teeth, he even cuts bits off the trailer - which is the desired effect. I have a picture here that I prepared earlier..

You will hopefully notice that Steve has masterfully cut the corners off the channels that the bike wheels run along. Those corners were fouling the lower sections of the fairings and doing a bit of grievous bodily. Our new ramp has no such corners, but nor does it locate on the channels - so the final step is to cut some slots for the ramp to be retained by - and then all our troubles will simply melt away. Which they do. So that's (fill in the blank..)....!

Having now completed all that we can without overtaxing our tiny men-type brains, while our super-intelligent spouses are shopping for super things to cart around America, we wonder about lunch. Then we learn that said spouses are actually having lunch as we wonder - so maybe they really are super-intelligent - so we drop that idea as having no merit whatsoever and decide to go for a ride. We notify all of the above, and as time comes to pass, a number of us go riding together. Keith and Elaine show us around their delightful part of the world - and indeed it is - and John shows us the loud rear end of his turbocharged Speed Triple as he looks for second gear at about 3 billion mph. We definitely won't line the step-thru's up against this bike.!

Here we see the boys watching in awe as Allan demonstrates how he can balance Thomas' shirt logo on the end of his finger..

Steve is still testing his starter button in case he should suddenly wake up and find he has just woken up. That can happen. But yes - we went for a ride, and it looked a bit like this...

And all the while it is threatening to rain on us...

But in our usual jammy style - it doesn't. A few drops as we go home - no more. We see some lovely places - Lawrence certainly is a jewel. We have some keys cut on the way back, been trying to organise that for a while - then we return to our hotel and hold the obligatory meeting to try and figure out what we are about to do next. That does not leave any time for dinner, as we whiz back to Keith's at 1900hrs in order to join him and a few of the lads to visit friend Richard - Editor of "Motorcycle Classics" mag and lover of motorcycles in general. I have only become aware of this publication a few weeks ago at Brent's in San Fran - as it contained an article on his lovely "Magni" Rocket 3 - now we are drinking and chatting over such tasty trinkets as Richard's Laverda RGS and many other choice bits and pieces as we enjoy the last of the time we will share with these hospitable folk. Thanks to all concerned - every last one of these blokes is easy to talk to and on the same wavelength. I guess it is an oasis. We certainly needed one after our dry trek across several arid states, but it was worth waiting for. Love these people, they made our visit something special. The Laverda makes much noise..

Hopefully we shall remain in contact with this happy group - this shared love of machines is something we understand only too well.

It may be a 'Boys thing' though. Oh well - that can happen. Lol.

Cheers mates.

 

 

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