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Published: September 17th 2012
Road miles to date: 14,571
Taking a bearing north from Albuquerque, we rode across the deserts of New Mexico and into the mountains of Colorado. As recommended by Jeff and Bryce, our first stop was Mesa Verde National Park where we explored some incredible Native Indian dwellings of houses and whole cities that had been built into the cliffs of the area. To enter the so-called Balcony House, we had to climb a vertical ladder and squeeze through a tiny gap made by two huge rocks precariously leaning against each other. Luckily we hadn't eaten too many burgers just yet. Once in, the view was incredible and the preservation of the house, dated at around 700 years old, was unbelievable. Apart from a few crumbling walls, the shelter of the overhanging cliff had kept its rooms and two fire pits standing, even preserving the original wooden beams. To exit the house, an even tinier tunnel than the one by which we had entered had to be conquered before climbing back up by way of original foot holes carved into the vertical cliff face. We were promised that no-one had ever fallen from this path and that even if they had,
we wouldn't be told anyway.
The journey from Mesa Verde and the town of Cortez into Monument Valley should have been a one hundred mile ride but we missed a turning and found ourselves on the wrong road in the wrong state. A quick consultation of the map confirmed our (we are a team) error. Our corrective course ended up taking us right through the Four Corners where the states of Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Arizona meet - the only place in America where four states intersect. The landscape of this ride was like nothing we could have imagined, magnified all the more so after the monotony of our ride along route 66. The desert was as spectacular as our rides through Alaska, Yukon and British Columbia, in that the sheer expanse and isolation of it gave an instant sense of its enormity that made us feel so small and yet on such a big adventure. Each state was unique in its version of desert but essentially all of them featured miles and miles of brush, framed by enormous dry, rocky mountains and the odd isolated towering rock formations, some of which looked a lot like fortresses and
castles from afar. The desert heat did eventually catch us up by about midday and the novelty of crossing so many states in so little time lasted for all of a minute before our focus was turned back to our fast evaporating energy and the need for shade.
Despite adding another hundred and fifty miles onto the ride, we still made it to Monument Valley, setting to many a Spaghetti Western, in time to peel off our bike gear, pitch the tent and take a hike. Accompanied by the campsite dog, we ventured deep in between the looming rock formations and witnessed an amazing sunset which was amplified by the towering red stones and baking desert sand. The next morning we woke up in time to watch an equally spectacular sunrise over the desert.
We got packed up as soon as we could while the air was still cool and rode through the desert towards the south rim of the Grand Canyon National Park. Our hopes to outrun the heat were fulfilled as the wind picked up and dark ominous clouds began to form in the distance. When a bolt of lightening forked right across the road in
front of us, preceding an almighty downpour, we began to wonder which of the weather extremes would prove to be more forgiving. As we stopped at the campground to check in, the thunder cracked louder than we had ever heard and the park ranger told us we'd arrived in monsoon season. The price you pay for lack of research! For the first time on this trip we pitched the tent in the rain and luckily it stayed dry inside where we stayed for another hour until the rain subsided and almost immediately it was as if the last few hours hadn't happened at all.
Having seen countless photos, documentaries and films featuring the Grand Canyon we thought we knew what to expect, but couldn't help being totally awestruck to see it up close. However, like most of America's more famous National Parks, this one is no different in that it is well set up with hotels, shuttle buses, gift shops and cafes. The masses of people that these conveniences attract take away some of the opportunity to soak up the atmosphere of such an awe inspiring spectacle as cameras click away at fenced off viewing platforms, not that we
were by any means different to the rest of the site seeing rabble. As we weren't staying another day to hike down into the canyon though, we went in search of a bit more seclusion to take in the enormity of this natural wonder. We got lucky when a couple of lads appeared out of some bushes and revealed an eroded rocky route that had escaped being fenced off, and led down a nail biting cliff top overhang. The spot was as secluded as we were going to get and took us a fair way out over the canyon, giving the senses a definite case of the heebie-jeebies and more than enough of a taste of our own mortality. As vertigo began to set in, we began to leave when a couple of professional photographers came rushing down, loaded up with their equipment for 'magic hour'. As they set up, one of them stumbled right on the edge of the cliff. Isabel's heart jumped into her throat as she imagined all her worst fears materialising but the guy regained his footing without even a glance back. Pure professionalism!
As evening set in, the clear skies sent the temperature plummeting
and we spent a cold night camping alongside one of the wonders of the natural world, under a sky jam packed with stars. Unable to sleep properly after trading our sleeping bags in for blankets not long before, we got up early to head for a couple of nights of relative luxury in Las Vegas, quietly confident that we would bolster our funds with some well calculated gambling.
Our route took us through the Mojave desert and into another smack of heat that outweighed any temperature we had felt so far. The desert itself was spectacular and along the way we stopped at the Hoover Dam to witness a great engineering wonder of the modern world. As we parked up, both of us had to sit down for nearly keeling over and so took a quick detour via the Dam cafe just for the relief of air conditioning. How the Dam was actually constructed in that heat should shift it into its own class of two wonders. The Dam was indeed a site worth stopping for and even Isabel, being the more qualified of us two, agreed it was an immense feat of engineering.
Chancing our Las Vegas
hotel booking to the 'mystery hotel' section of an internet booking company, we were pleasantly surprised to learn it was a suite and not far from the main strip. As Byron guarded the bike outside, Isabel went to check in and was greeted by an enormous queue of fairly pretty and well groomed individuals. As she stood patiently she began to hear the familiar accents of her fellow British citizens and soon found out they were in town for the fourth round of X-Factor. Jumping ahead of them with some fairly irate Americans, she listened as the organiser of this visit made it very clear, in no uncertain terms to the receptionist that none of them were to be able to charge anything, nothing at all, absolutely zero to their rooms. Rock and roll obviously did die at the dawn of the TV talent show phenomenon.
After the valets revealed they couldn't take bikes into their parking lot, we parked up in the hotel open car park and contemplated what we could get away with leaving on the bike. As we had decided that most of it could stay, a guy came up to us and told us his
Harley had been robbed of its panniers in that lot the night before. So it was that we ended up taking everything off the bike, attached a lock to each wheel and trudged through the hotel, via its restaurants, past its shops and through it's casino with a years' worth of camping gear, cooking facilities, a sheep skin seat cover, two helmets, two jackets and two bags of clothes. Good job it was a suite after all. Inevitably, "let's have a quiet one tonight" didn't quite go to plan that night and a few beers turned into shots of tequila three times as big as those we were once accustomed to and cocktails being free poured into our open mouths by a waiter stood on the bar. We only made it out of the doors of the casino that night to check that our bike was still in one piece (it was) and didn't get anywhere near the strip. It was pretty clear we were going to lose our money at the bar in Vegas, before we even got close to the tables.
Having learnt from our mistake the previous night, the next evening we bypassed the bar tender
and headed straight to the strip to take in some of the infamous Las Vegas sights. Deciding to chance our luck in the casinos, our inability to cheat and lack of tactics resulted in a total outcome of $0.01 on the slots. And they say the house will always win. After a final check on the bike (it was still there) we took our aching feet, our free beer and our payout and retired to our suite feeling like high rollers buzzing on the euphoria of an epic win.
Neither of us thought we would think too much of Las Vegas and despite sharing a lift with one very worn looking lady of the night going up to a room with no less than three men, we were both won over by the place. Admittedly there is a darker side that we never saw, but the buzz and the atmosphere of the place has us wishing we'd booked another night or two.
As we lugged our life's belongings back out through the casino, past the shops and restaurants and into the car park, we were overjoyed to see the bike still sitting in one piece. After packing it
all up and leaving Las Vegas behind, we re-entered the desert into 110+ degrees and rode north between Area 51 and Death Valley, one of the hottest places in the world. But we knew that without having to be told. We found ourselves being buffeted by strong winds attempting to blow us off the road as if we were nothing more than tumbleweed. Byron managed to hold the bike steady as we both leaned against it and despite its determination, remained upright. Despite the proliferation of cat-houses, disguised behind petrol stations, and well signed brothels, some in the form of isolated huts and others entire ranches, we made it safely to the town of Tonopah where we would rest up before crossing the mountains via Yosemite National Park and ride into the Californian hills.
We had originally intended to spend a couple of days in Yosemite, however following news of three deaths so far this summer due to a disease in the park added to our commitment to reach San Diego in the next week, we decided a ride through tour would have to do. As we reached the town of Lee Vining to stop for lunch, we got
speaking to a fellow classic BMW rider who, it turned out, lived and worked in the park. After exchanging tips, he offered us a free pass to drive through Yosemite, which turned out to be a very welcome saving to our budget. We took the Tioga Pass up and through the mountains reaching altitudes of around 10,000 feet, through and over some spectacular scenery which we hope to return to and explore one day.
Prior to arriving in San Francisco, we had put a message detailing our trip on the Horizons Unlimited motorcycle adventure forum, requesting to use a garage so Byron could service the bike. We were inundated with offers of garages to use and also places to stay and consequently spent a couple of days with fellow adventure rider Thor who kindly put us up, fed us and showed us the sites of San Francisco and told us some fantastic stories. He also passed on some invaluable knowledge and advice, maps, washing equipment and useful links for the next part of our journey.
Despite visiting the Golden Gate Bridge four times and riding over it twice, we never actually saw the full bridge or its infamous
views for the unforgiving fog that was continuously blowing in off the coast. The bays leading up to the bridge from the north however were stunning and the house boats that filled them were literally houses on boats. San Francisco itself was a fantastic, vibrant city, set on some incredibly scary hills! Although much of our time in the area was spent on the outskirts, we got to explore a fair bit by bike and scared Isabel sufficiently riding the seemingly vertical hills of the city.
After leaving Thor, we headed up to Napa Valley, an area that couldn't be more similar to the vineyards of France, to pick up some parts before riding back down to San Francisco to run some errands. Once we finally left the city it was getting late and after riding the interstate highway for some time, we came off it and took a gamble on a roadside motel. Although gambling may pay off occasionally, we had obviously hit a dry patch. Too tired to ride on we conceded to our fate and paid over the cash before checking the room or sussing out the neighbours for the night. With a lesson learnt, we
realised you should always check the room and the neighbours before handing over the cash. A medium sized brown slug was found by Byron on the toilet seat. Closer inspection revealed it to be something far more sinister. It was a small Bungle's finger left on the toilet seat by the previous occupants for comic effect. This discovery set the tone for the night. Next thing the neighbour was raising hell over the bike parked in her spot and muttering something about racism. As we went out to move it, she took a shining to us (luckily) which her wasted boyfriend did not like (unluckily). With a mouth full of gold teeth glistening at us she became our best friend and told us it was all the management's fault and we should park it anywhere we like, apart from her spot. Then the boyfriend slurred that she was crazy and started fights with everyone, including the judge, and that we should ignore her. Happily, she dragged him inside and we bolted the door. We went to bed listening to her rant at him, then woke up to hear her ranting at someone else. We then discovered most of our neighbours
were permanent residents in the motel after reading a list of rules in the office stating #1. No we will not take you to court in the morning because your car has been impounded #2. Waking us up in the night for a cigarette because you have run out is not an emergency etc etc. The next morning after waiting a good half hour to track down our deposit, we high tailed it out of there towards the scenic highway 1 that follows the west coast.
Highway 1 is a bikers' paradise with one particular section comprising 72 miles of uninterrupted sweeping curves. The only things to break the flow of the ride are the frequent vantage points and photo opportunities looking out at stunning views of the the Pacific Ocean. After riding for four consecutive days, we decided a break was in order and managed to find a great spot in Santa Paula where we would spend the next couple of days camped out in the woods relaxing in the beautiful hills of California.
We explored the area of Santa Paula and took trips to Oxnard State Beach, Ventura and the beautiful Ojai Valley where we decided
a few famous people must live but spotted none. After the weekend passed and the masses that had come to party at the site returned to work, we took advantage of the new found peace and spent our fourth (!) anniversary cooking up a feast under a very starry sky beside a roaring campfire.
The next day we set off for Los Angeles where we were sure there would be some famous sightings. Unfortunately the campsite we thought was a lucky find was about 45 miles from the Los Angeles we wanted to see and mainly a trailer park. As we pitched our tent in the minuscule allotted space, a guy in the trailer opposite was hosing down some enormous snakes in an overturned bin. Fearful that they had just found them on the site, we went over to check we wouldn't be receiving any unwanted visitors in the night. It turned out these were Amazonian snakes and were his pets but he was lending them for a show in Las Vegas. Luckily they were being taken that day to Vegas or there would have been some serious sleep deprivation that night. We left at record earliness the next
morning and headed to San Diego, via Hollywood to see the sign and Sunset Boulevard. No famous sightings.
We arrived in San Diego that afternoon to stay with Isabel's cousin, Lucas who had finally been released from hospital on the east coast and had made it back home over six weeks after leaving for a weekend break! Safe to say he was still recovering but was looking a lot better than when we had last seen him. We had a great final few days in the States there with Lucas as our host. He took us all over San Diego and its beaches, to Ocean Beach, Pacific Beach, Mount Soledad, Balboa Park, Downtown San Diego and Little Italy - so many places we wouldn't have known to go ourselves. He also took us to Blacks Beach, an optionally nudist site that you have to clamber 300 foot down a cliff to get to. The beach was incredible and thankfully not too busy, though it wasn't quiet enough to avoid the sight of a few unwanted views - particularly Lizard Man, a nudist who was strolling about with a lizard clinging off his arm who came to our attention when
he wandered over saying how scared he was of what turned out to be a blob of tar that had risen up through the sand. Cue to clamber back up the cliff face and home for a strong drink.
After having covered 14,500 North American miles, through 32 of the 50 American states and five Canadian Provinces, making countless new friends along the way and visiting old friends and family, we waved our final farewell in San Diego to Lucas as we headed south into Mexico and the great unknown. Against the advice of many a US-American we have met, we have a feeling that this is where the real adventures are set to begin...
(Scroll down for more photos)
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Rita
non-member comment
Just love these updates! Is it okay to put link to your blog on FB? Looking forward to hearing how your travels in Mexico are going. xxxxx