3/10/2011. To 13/10/2011.
After several months of preparation, repairing and maintaining necessary items of normal everyday life I now find myself without a job and homeless. My own entire fault of course, the calculations I hope will work out. You cannot ever disregard the fact that it could be a massive mistake to make. I too often remind myself of this fact, but only dead fish go with the flow and I don’t want to be one of them!
Terminal5 LHR, packing in progress.
As I sit at the bus stop waiting for the National Express coach to take me to terminal 5 to meet my hairy mate Flid, I run through my mind just one more time my pack list and tasks that I have been unable to complete. I have condensed my future into 23kg; the only snag is I hope that the package will be accepted by the airline. The x ray should be interesting as I have my shed made automatic chain oiler stuffed in there, electric solenoid valves, wires and pipes. Hopefully it will not be interpreted as bomb making material! I also have to carry the cylinder head and barrel of Flid’s bike engine with me as his bike drank more oil than fuel. At the airport departure lounge we transferred the engine parts to Flid’s motorcycle pannier cases that would travel in the cargo hold of the aeroplane. No unusual questions were asked, all luggage was acceptable at this moment in time. Just my 20 litre stuff sack to sneak onboard as hand luggage, somehow it refused to fit the test size cage! I also have a backpack too; if I carry the sack and make it look light I am hoping to slip aboard unnoticed. I was lucky.
This is an adventure planned around minimum investment, some forward thinking and a few plans. We figured that if you don’t make plans they cannot go wrong! Flid my companion has friends and family in Denver CO and without them the initial task of buying and preparing motorcycles would have been difficult and more expensive. We chose Kawasaki KLR650’s; they are plentiful in the U.S.A. and not expensive. I risked $2700 on 2001 bike; it was complete with a luggage system and other useful accessories. Flid paid $1700, we knew the engine was in need of work but at that price it was worth the risk and the bike had all the necessary upgrades. The engine was stripped and photo’s emailed to me as I was still in the UK. Another engine in parts was bought and we made one good one out of two! Don’t forget, it’s easy with loads of money!! Lucky for us Flid’s friend Jonathan has a garage with his house, it did have a nice clean floor and all the tools were in place, but 10 days of intensive work destroyed it. The work was tough, 12 hours a day made even tougher dealing with jet lag, 6500 feet above sea level and zero humidity, not to mention the arrival of winter with a snow covering. Several shopping trips to Denver provided me with essential items that I could not bring with me, we were ready to go. We twisted Jonathan’s arm to encourage him to ride with us to San Diego, so it was all hands to his bike and we prepared it for the 3000 mile round trip as work commitments prevented any more time.
13/10/2011 to 21/10/11.
We left Sedalia, Colorado with bright sunshine and a chill in the air, up in to the elevated roads of the Rockies. Not all the roads are paved, there are many miles of dirt roads, some sections still covered with snow and ice and some muddy parts. We reached elevations of 11000 ft above sea level; wrestling with a loaded bike soon gets the heart beating! Elk, Bears and Mountain Lions inhabit the Rockies, I consider myself unlucky having not seen any, or lucky depending on the circumstances. With diminishing light a secure home or camp was top priority. Valley View near the small one horse town of Villa Grove provided us with a camp. The approach was across a plain on a very long dusty dirt road with bikes running low on fuel just to add to the excitement. Valley View is a historic spiritual site, once a mining town. Unexplained cattle mutilation has happened within the valley, a mystery never solved. Valley View was an unexpected twist to a tough days riding, a dip in a hot natural spring under the stars is the perfect end to the day. Sunrise was good too!!!
Sunrise from the hot spring.
Onwards towards the ski resort of Ouray, we bundled ourselves in to one hotel room and polluted the hot tub. As the tourist season is over, the town is now full of the hunting fraternity with the obligatory lumberjack shirt. Tall stories were exchanged in the restaurant! Or were they observing the Three Amigo’s that were in town? There is supposedly safety in numbers, we left the following day and climbed high into the hills to the cowboy town of Silverton. It is still a cowboy town, just like the movies. Heading towards Utah we are now loosing altitude and the temperature is rising. From the town of Bluff we take the desert road and wild camp under the stars, cowboy style with a camp fire. There was a frost during the night, I wish it was possible to bottle the sky and silence and keep it. Wild camping is addictive, we camped another night at Comb Reef, right on the edge of a cliff over looking the surrounding plains. It would have been a good nights sleep, those Coyotes sounded hungry!
The bright lights of Las Vegas.
In need of a personal grooming session we headed for downtown Las Vegas and a hotel. $27 buys you a room in the metropolis. A fruit machine junkie I am not, by cunning design you have to walk through the casino to access the hotel rooms. I think the gambling may have been brought to a premature halt as an alien stomped his way through, clutching his worldly possessions in a sack. A quick laundry session against hotel policy ensued, why don’t they give ya a plug for the sink? Simple, gaffer tape the plug hole! Cleansing complete it was time to hit the bright lights. At midnight the streets are packed, the lights, touts, poseurs, trucks with billboards advertising girls waiting to meet you, Vietnam war veterans holding out the pot, it is a so in your face city. One night was enough. Somehow we missed the crack of dawn; the getaway was late, destination San Diego California. Our route took us through the Mojave Desert, getting close to sea level the heat was on. Afternoon air temperature was 100 deg F; my bike is losing power with the carburettor adjusted for altitude. The temperature gauge is on the wrong side of hot; I struggled to maintain 60 mph. I have to slow the pace; I let my mates disappear to avoid wrecking my engine. I tweak the choke lever to give the fuel starved engine a little more and we gain a little more forward momentum. The Mojave Desert is the home of the Joshua tree, I have a song in my head, along with another, something along the lines of I’m in to the desert on a horse with no name! The late start to the day made the 380miles to San Diego through the desert heat a tough journey. Flid and Jon have a friend here; we have the apartment floor for a few days. We use the time to make the final adjustments to the bikes; Flid buys new jets for his carburettor to hopefully cure the high fuel consumption and I fitted a fork brace to make the steering a little less ponderous. Jon departed for Denver, and then there were 2. Just the Mexican border at Tijuana to worry over now. Not one American has given us any positive encouragement, drug and gun smuggling is the hot topic. High-jacks at gunpoint are common too, 32 bodies were found dumped by the roadside, and the best story has to be this: They kill babies and stuff them with drugs!! OK, I will keep my wits about me at the border.
Onwards towards the ski resort of Ouray, we bundled ourselves in to one hotel room and polluted the hot tub. As the tourist season is over, the town is now full of the hunting fraternity with the obligatory lumberjack shirt. Tall stories were exchanged in the restaurant! Or were they observing the Three Amigo’s that were in town? There is supposedly safety in numbers, we left the following day and climbed high into the hills to the cowboy town of Silverton. It is still a cowboy town, just like the movies. Heading towards Utah we are now loosing altitude and the temperature is rising. From the town of Bluff we take the desert road and wild camp under the stars, cowboy style with a camp fire. There was a frost during the night, I wish it was possible to bottle the sky and silence and keep it. Wild camping is addictive, we camped another night at Comb Reef, right on the edge of a cliff over looking the surrounding plains. It would have been a good nights sleep, those Coyotes sounded hungry!
In need of a personal grooming session we headed for downtown Las Vegas and a hotel. $27 buys you a room in the metropolis. A fruit machine junkie I am not, by cunning design you have to walk through the casino to access the hotel rooms. I think the gambling may have been brought to a premature halt as an alien stomped his way through, clutching his worldly possessions in a sack. A quick laundry session against hotel policy ensued, why don’t they give ya a plug for the sink? Simple, gaffer tape the plug hole! Cleansing complete it was time to hit the bright lights. At midnight the streets are packed, the lights, touts, poseurs, trucks with billboards advertising girls waiting to meet you, Vietnam war veterans holding out the pot, it is a so in your face city. One night was enough. Somehow we missed the crack of dawn; the getaway was late, destination San Diego California. Our route took us through the Mojave Desert, getting close to sea level the heat was on. Afternoon air temperature was 100 deg F; my bike is losing power with the carburettor adjusted for altitude. The temperature gauge is on the wrong side of hot; I struggled to maintain 60 mph. I have to slow the pace; I let my mates disappear to avoid wrecking my engine. I tweak the choke lever to give the fuel starved engine a little more and we gain a little more forward momentum. The Mojave Desert is the home of the Joshua tree, I have a song in my head, along with another, something along the lines of I’m in to the desert on a horse with no name! The late start to the day made the 380miles to San Diego through the desert heat a tough journey. Flid and Jon have a friend here; we have the apartment floor for a few days. We use the time to make the final adjustments to the bikes; Flid buys new jets for his carburettor to hopefully cure the high fuel consumption and I fitted a fork brace to make the steering a little less ponderous. Jon departed for Denver, and then there were 2. Just the Mexican border at Tijuana to worry over now. Not one American has given us any positive encouragement, drug and gun smuggling is the hot topic. High-jacks at gunpoint are common too, 32 bodies were found dumped by the roadside, and the best story has to be this: They kill babies and stuff them with drugs!! OK, I will keep my wits about me at the border.
21/10/2011.
The Mexican border crossing at Tijuana was straight forward and easy. Smiles and happy faces all round it was easy, no gunshots or dodgy bandits holding babies.
Culture shock awaits.
At a flick of a switch the scenery has changed completely. Barrow boys selling fruit and vegetables, street traders selling food and clothes. Sombrero wearing taxi drivers jostle people for a ride, the noise and smell all add to the atmosphere. Most border towns have a dodgy feel to them, so in the heat of the early afternoon sun we headed south on Mexican highway 1. This is a scenic toll road, in real terms it would have been more honest to say “unfinished building site “. The air was cool from the Pacific; dolphins could be seen along the coast. We reached the cruise port of Ensenada, tried the ATM for money. The banks take advantage of the cruise passengers and withdrawals carry a high transaction charge. We opted for a money changer. There are many official camp sites; we chose not to wild camp just this one time. Dusty old towns with street vendors and cafe’s are the norm here, Mexico feels like a strange mix of a Ukraine town with a Spanish twist.
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