Due South

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I'm going to have to cheat a little as this blog has yet to cross the Canadian/Alaskan border when in a week or so I'll actually be crossing into Mexico. I'm only 5,000 miles ish' behind, but my sister Bernadette doesn’t accept I’m a busy man & has told me to make an effort. She’s not normally wrong & so I’m sitting at a desk no less, with a supply of chocolate & sweets ready to make that effort. See Bernie, I do listen.

This entry will attempt to cover everything up til' now. It won't of course as my memory is shocking but here goes... Apologies in advance as it's going to be long, so perhaps read just before bedtime, that should work.
Under no circumstances try & read it after a heavy lunch at work as you'll be found dozing & dribbling on your desk. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Hello by the way, I hope you’re all good.

From Alaska it's all due south.

The rough outline of a plan was to put in some hard miles south in an attempt to get back to Montana in time for a party at the Zapata’s, the family I'd met on my way north. It's much the same as deciding to travel overland from London to Morocco for a night out but why not.

Covering such a distance in such a short space of time would normally take a harder rider then me & believe it or not they do exist. However, it’s amazing what can be accomplished with a little determination & enough chocolate to film a sequel to Willy Wonka.

I said goodbye to Martin after covering over 2000 miles together, we'll catch up in Baja, Mexico as he's looking to buy a place down there. As we'd been riding together for a while it felt strange to be back on my own, especially in a landscape as enormous as Alaska & northern Canada but the sun was shining & the torture I endured on the way up was a distant memory as the road was dry & I could see nothing but blue skies & mountains. Just the way I like it.

A couple of miles short of the Canadian border I met Shane from Australia travelling by motorbike around north America. I'm making it sound like there's hundreds of us out here but it just comes down to good luck, honest. Crossing the border back into Canada was easy & I was on my way.

The mountain peaks obscured by rain & cloud on my way up had a decent dusting of snow to let me know winter was on its way but it remained sunny & dry so Shane & I flew along the Al-Can Highway to Destruction Bay where he booked into a room & I opted to camp as I'm trying to be a better ‘Adventure Biker’ & toughen up - just a little.

I asked the man behind the counter at the gas station where the best place to pitch a tent was & he advised against the State campsite just up the road because of the bears (still yet to get a decent sighting, despite the fact everyone else seems to be tripping over them) & recommended a private campsite a little further on as the owner of that campsite shoots bears. Nice.

He didn’t realise bears are in fact scared of me, especially Grizzlies. My glimpses of black bears here & there whilst everyone I met seems to be petting them daily only goes to prove black bears are scared, but Grizzlies must be terrified as I haven’t even seen a glimpse of one of those. Bears are scared of Brian - fact! Still, I opted for the campsite owned by the chap who shoots em’ as I didn't want to unnecessarily worry those bears who hung around the State camp.

Once the sun had set, the wind started to howl & the temperature plummeted, good camping weather in other words. It got so cold that if they awarded certificates & badges to bikers in the face of adversity I'd get a Gold. So whilst you were all wrapped up in your warm beds I was FREEZING in a tent in north western Canada - & you think I do is for fun. Shame on you!

My sleeping bag/poncho doberry has all the insulation properties of a Kleenex tissue & I was forced to don my thermals, followed by my bike gear with thermal layer, rain-suit over that, balaclava, woolly hat, winter biking gloves & two pairs of thick socks. I’ll admit I looked a little odd & probably weighed the best part of 17 stone but needs must. The only downside being once I got back inside my sleeping bag & sleep sheet I literally couldn’t move. Trying to roll over in the tent was so frustrating I ended up having to laugh, it was either that or cry. It struck me that at 33 years of age my time in such situations really should have passed. As it was I was stuck in a tent looking like I was wearing one of those fancy dress fat suits. I’ve never seen Bruce Parry, Bear Grylls or The Don, Ray Mears struggle with such issues but I’m sure they do.

The next morning Shane was waiting & we again took to the Al-Can highway at what could be called an enthusiastic (but safe) pace. The skies were blue but my god it was cold. Luckily I'd literally rolled out of my tent, after about 10 minutes of trying, & onto the bike, with only minimal assistance from a nearby picnic table. But I was still lovely & toasty so I was happy. Unfortunately the Aussies aren't made of such stern stuff (Alan, no arguing please - it's a proven fact) & so Shane had to pull in to try & thaw out when I stopped for fuel. Mindful I still had 1500 or so miles to go we said our goodbyes & I pushed on.

I covered 624 miles that day which on twisty mountain roads with a 60 mph speed limit riding a heavy trails bike isn't easy, but as usual I loved it. And so it went, the next day I put in 445 miles & the one after that 542 & that day included picking up a rear puncture in the middle of nowhere. I won’t describe the scene other than to say it involved a lot of sweat, a huge amount of swearing & a little assistance from a chap on a Harley before I got going again.

Finally after many hours & miles on the bike I got to Vancouver where fortunately I had a couple of friends prepared to take me in. I met Jen & Kim a few years ago whilst backpacking through the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. After a day’s hike through the jungle all three of us discovered we actually preferred strolling through the tea plantations in the sunshine instead.

They’d offered a place to stay & things to do. Marvellous! Jen gave me her address & I promptly incorrectly entered into the sat nav & when I did eventually arrive (after bumping into hundreds of bikers on the ‘Sea to Sky Highway’ on my way - another cracking piece of biking tarmac) she had dinner ready & a washing machine brave enough to take on my laundry. The dirt, dust & grime stuck to my clothes would have been enough to ballast an air balloon. Everything I have with me on this trip other then the bike, my boots & my crash helmet went through that washing machine. I swear the bike felt lighter when I started off again.

I even got a bed - a bed! I didn't have to climb into all my biker gear nor put a woolly hat over a balaclava to get to sleep. Thank you Jen! The next day turned out to be Vancouver’s wettest August day on record but Jen & I wouldn't let a little rain defeat us & went for a walk down to the seawall where we'd arranged to meet Kim. Kim wasn't quite as soaked as us as one, Jen got soaked by a passing car racing through a puddle (I saw it coming & managed to hide behind her just in time) & two, Kim had the forethought to bring an umbrella. Whilst we walked & talked we were entertained by a grey whale not 50 ft. out to sea. I'm impressed when a city has whales as wildlife.

The following day the sun shone & as Jen had to work, Kim & I wandered around Vancouver. The newspapers at home always show a league table that god knows who compiles, about the best cities in the world to live in & top of the league always seems to be between Vancouver & somewhere in New Zealand. Strolling around Vancouver in the sunshine with the mountains on one side & the ocean on the other I was starting to appreciate why.

Thanks to Kim I even got to stay at the home of a guitarist from a well known band which looks out over the ocean & I WANT THAT HOUSE! (& dog). I'm definitely learning how to play the guitar when I get home. Definitely! (Yes, I'm leaving the ukulele group, but as a founding member I'm still entitled to a cut of the proceeds from the first three albums regardless).

I intended to cross back into the USA, ride over to Montana for the party then head back across the border & stay in Vancouver visiting the Islands & generally making the city my home for a week or two or until Jen & Kim got sick of me & bundled me back on the bike. The only problem being having to cross the American border twice, something I knew the obnoxious immigration officials wouldn’t like. Don’t ask me why, it’s just the way they are.

So I left Vancouver & headed for the US border all the while looking forward to answering the idiotic questions the immigration officer was bound to ask. I’d read on travellers forums about fellow bikers being turned away as they had no outbound flight despite the fact they were on motorbikes etc.etc. The guard I got took my passport, swiped it through the computer & from there she had all of the information she needed to know. However, she then wanted to see who had the better memory, me or her computer? When did I arrive? When did I leave? What date did I enter Alaska? What date did I leave?

It had recently taken three fellow travellers & I just to work out what day of the week it was so days & dates aren’t my strongpoint but she persevered nonetheless. Turns out her computer had a better memory for those wanting to know. If I’d of had my passport in hand I may have stood a chance.

She then asked purpose of the trip & I told her about the Alaska to Argentina idea & she followed it up with why if I'm going to Argentina do I need to come back into the US? I explained Argentina is in South America & we’re in North America, which she seemed happy with. With the geography & memory test out of the way (passed the geography, failed the memory) I then spent the next 10 minutes listening to a well rehearsed set piece on if she did decide to let me in am I clear ‘I’m not allowed to work?’ After 20 minutes she handed me my passport & I was on my way. Apologies to the people behind me in the queue, I did feel guilty if that helps.

Annoyingly I then had to admit if I did go back to Vancouver getting back into the US & carrying on with my trip wasn't a given. If I was denied entry it would mean home time & no South American adventures for me. Therefore a return to Vancouver will have to wait for another trip, I couldn’t risk going through all that again.
I was speaking to an American in his seventies who had served in the forces & when he tried to cross back into America from Canada they put him through the same thing. Even made him take off his glasses & empty his possessions from his bike. Bastards!

I needed to cover the miles so I took to the Interstates something I normally avoid but I really wanted to get to Montana & as the Smokey & the Bandit theme tunes goes I had 'a long way to go & a short time to get there’. I even broke the cardinal rule of motorcycle travel, never ride anywhere at night. I’ve read it on the forums thousands of times but thought what harm, just this once. I was feeling determined but just as it was starting to get really dark my headlight bulb blew. I took it as a message from my mum to get off the road. The bike’s headlight is on whenever the bike is, but chose to go the one & only time I was about to ride in the dark, definitely the handy work of my mum.

Earlier I’d pulled over to watch the sunset & a trucker stopped to see if I was alright, I’d almost forgot, welcome back to the United States, one of the friendliest nations on earth.

The next day I was eager to get the miles done so I pushed the speed limits (only a little) & arrived back where I wanted to be at the Zapata's for about 3pm. It’s hard to emphasise despite how kind & friendly everyone has been how good it feels to be amongst familiar faces.

The party was a thank you to those that have been helping build the studio & started with music from Larry Myer. Those that have read my previous blog entries will know him as the hiking shorts & wolf T shirt wearing musician I’d listened to & loved the last time I was in town. As Richard who was throwing the party is a friend, he upped his game even more & was excellent. It was good to look around as he was singing out & singing loud at the faces of the young & old alike who were stunned at just how good he is, exactly how I was a few weeks before.

Larry was followed by singer song writer called Susan Gibson, I didn’t know her but had been told she was also hugely talented. We had a good talk about travelling, music & life in general & when she got up on the stage I started to get that blessed feeling again. There I was, in Montana amongst people I’d only met once a month earlier & their friends, sitting on a hay bale listening to quality music, with a drink in hand. As the sun set & the stars appeared Susan was still singing & I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

Both Susan & Larry played two very long sets of cracking tune after cracking tune & I loved it. An excellent way to party in your own back yard. If any of you are thinking of doing the same both Larry & Susan can be booked via their websites & for the tip invite me.

One of Susan's tunes is called 'I'm happiest when I'm moving' & one of the lyrics is 'I'd rather be a comet than a star'. I'm sure you can guess how good I think that song is. She also has one about a cactus which I really like for but for different reasons. Turns out Susan wrote 'Wide Open Spaces' a tune recorded by the Dixie Chicks which has sold over 8 million copies.

Larry, Richard, Danny & I stayed up around the fire talking until early morning before finally calling it a night. I know Richard is thinking about repeating it year on year so you may one day hear of Montana’s answer to Glastonbury, & I was at the inaugural event.

Richard is a firm Christian & from what I can judge he & his family are blessed. Thank you once again, I loved it. I'm hoping to see a Zapata on my side of the Atlantic next year. It's one of those things, the people you like & connect with you'll see again so there's no goodbyes required. Simple.



After a few days relaxing (& hiking to the top of the mountains opposite the house) it was time to get on the road back towards the West Coast. Another biker had been in contact & suggested as we were riding the same route we could ride together. He also made mention of hot showers, home cooking & a washing machine in his email so I instantly knew he was a seasoned motorcycle traveller.

Rich is a retired pilot who lives in a gorgeous lakeside home with his wife Erica. I arrived & in minutes he was fixing the centre stand on my bike (I attached it & a bolt had fallen out) & that was followed by a tour of the area & a delicious meal. Once again, life can be tough on the road. Incidentally Erica is walking 60 miles over three days for a cancer charity, 60 miles!!! None of this twice around the park sort of charity event I’m used to.

The following morning Rich & I headed towards Olympic National Park & camped out beside the hot springs. The next few days were spent cruising along the Pacific Coast Highway & staying in National Park campgrounds generally taking our sweet time.

I'm usually looking for a petrol station after 180 miles maximum which I put down to the weight of the bike & all number of other excuses. Riding with Rich I managed 240 miles on one tank without the reserve light coming on. He's clearly a good influence, I’ve gone from needing three tanks a day, to one. However, my new pace does mean I won’t be home until sometime in 2013.

Instead of paying to get into the Washington State National Parks Rich said I was his son-in-law & part of his party, therefore I got in on his annual membership. The first time we tried it Rich stopped after the checkpoint & said 'welcome to the family' which made me smile.

We stopped for a quick break every now & then & as we were beside yet another gorgeous lake I took the opportunity to take a couple of photos. Beside where I parked was a man who appeared to be trying to cut down a tree with a large combat knife. I know from past experience of people carrying large knives not to look them in the eye so I carried on as if he wasn’t deranged. When I got to the water’s edge there was a girl standing there who I swear was the image of Yasmin Le Bon. I asked if the man with the big knife was with her & she told me he was carving their initials into the tree despite her telling him not to. She thought best not argue with a man holding a big knife & therefore she was down by the lake whilst he worked out how to spell Suzi. I got the feeling the tree was suffering in vain, but wisely she wasn’t going to tell him just yet.

Rich & I crossed from Washington into Oregon I started to recognise the coast but couldn't place from where. After a while I got it - The Goonies!!! I've since checked & it was indeed filmed in Oregon, 2 points to me. Apparently they filmed the Twlight series there too but I think The Goonies is more my level.

As we approached San Francisco Rich headed inland from the coast & I carried on as I wanted to ride across the Golden Gate Bridge, cheesey but it’s one of those things I had to do. A while ago I was lucky enough to drive across it with a good friend in a convertible just prior to an impromptu trip to Vegas & the memories coupled with the fact I was now riding across it on my own motorbike gave me a grin that lasted for hours & hours. Thank you Greg - good times my good man, good times.

After a quick tour through San Fran I then headed to Yosemite National Park where I'd agreed to catch up with Rich who was calling into the park to meet up with his cousin Bob, a Ranger in the park.

When I arrived & booked into the campsite the Ranger warned me a bear had damaged a motorbike only last night trying to get at the food in the panniers so be warned. After all this bear talk & no bears I decided to call her bluff & asked what the biker looked like, I might know him? All she could say was he had a hat & glasses & was American. Likely story, bears my arse!

Trying to find someone in a National Park is not easy, especially one the size of Yosemite so before I started the search I bought a huge ice cream & sat in the sunshine wondering how best to go about it. I then walked into the visitor centre & there was Rich & Bob after just writing me a note. Lucky me.

Bob said I was welcome to stay at his but I opted to remain camped in the park for one night & see if there were any bears about. I’d call to his tomorrow. Like the smell of my socks, the temptation of a hot shower & a washing machine couldn’t be ignored.

After meeting Rich & Bob & getting directions to his place for the next day I walked back to my campsite pleased at the coincidence of finding them in an area so huge. Just as I was getting back I was passed by a yellow BMW motorbike with Japanese plates. Saburo!!! Small world eh? Not only was he in the park at the same time, he was in the same campsite. I’m sure if you look on a map you’ll note America is a big country, yet here we were camped not 50ft from each other.

Saburo was riding with an American lad called Eric, apparently the night before a bear had pushed over his bike & destroyed his panniers whilst on the hunt for food. I think I owe that Ranger an apology.

They were just about to head up to Glacier Peak to watch the sunset so I joined them in a ride up to the top of the mountains along some entertainingly twisty tarmac. We waited for a while after sunset so the road would be empty for the return but as it was by then pitch dark we couldn't find the car park where we'd left the bikes. One of the less obvious reasons for not riding in the dark.

Turns out the bear attack was not the only bad piece of luck Eric encountered since getting on the road. First he hit a deer, dent in the petrol tank but he & the bike were otherwise all good. Then he was hit by a car, damaged crash bars (that saved his leg), smashed pannier, screen & indicator. Then some fellow campers tried to move his bike & dropped it on his crash helmet. Finally, the same night the bear tore his panniers apart to get at... wait for it... an unopened jar of peanut butter. I couldn’t help but laugh & Eric could also see the funny side. Saburo & I assured him it can only get better.

I had high hopes of seeing a bear in the camp that night but no, they were busy doing other things. It did enter my head there could be a team of Rangers who go about in the dark damaging cars & bikes to perpetuate the bear myth but both Saburo & Eric had seen bears wandering through camp the only the night before.

The following day I said goodbye to them both, Saburo I'll hopefully see again & Eric was heading home to Colorado where I dare say he's probably won the lottery.

The following morning I met up with Rich & Bob & spent the day mooching followed by a leisurely swim in a local river. Sitting on the rocks in the sunshine with those two really made me feel like I'd retired & wasn't just travelling. Bob spends the summer working as a Ranger in Yosemite & the American winters at his house in the Bay of Islands in New Zealand. Sounds like a nice way to live a life.

Rich asked if I was interested in a ride up into the High Sierra mountains to a camp he’d been visiting since the 1950’s. His idea was to spend a few days mooching around, a little hiking & some fishing. It sounded like hard work, but I was in!

It took us a day to get up there (partly due to a disagreement between me & my sat nav) & some serious off road riding towards the end. Those that know their 4x4’s will know that a 5.7l Toyota Tundra truck is one serious piece of equipment & when the driver stopped to tell me it took him two attempts to get up the hill I was approaching it was time to worry. Turns out despite weighing the same as a small hippo & only having road tyres my bike was made for those sorts of roads & to my surprise we got to the top & kept going no worries.

The oil pressure light did come on which caused a panic as I instantly had to shut the engine off & seeing as we were miles & miles & miles from anywhere I did think oh dear. However, I added some oil & prayed & all was good. Thank God. (It's not me, you try reading the oil level on an F800GS - there's an entire forum dedicated to it on the web - it's impossible!)

Bear Camp as it was known was secluded & serene & I'm sure you’ll be able to guess already from the theme of this blog, had no bears. We had to leave the bikes & hike round to it wading across a river in the process. I was looking around & soaking up the scenery when it occurred to me this is the type of terrain is the same as on those 'killer snakes' documentaries on TV. Just at that very moment Rich casually chipped in watch where I put my feet, its rattlesnake country.

We made it to the camp & as if someone knew I was coming a hammock had been strung between two trees in the shade. I diligently spent a large part of the next 3 days on 'Bear Watch' as I called it lying in that hammock hour after hour. Sometimes pretending to read a book, sometimes pretending to nap but always, always on Bear Watch.

We did go for a hike looking for a swimming hole & after a couple of miles in the wilderness we found a spot & I spent very nearly an entire second submerged. Rich reckons I was in for nearly two which considering the temperature of the water must be close to a world record.

The days were long & sunny but the nights were freezing. At 7500ft it gets a little chilly & reminded me of my time spent in Alaska & Northern Canada. So much so I was forced to put on my thermals. I'm not soft before you all start making accusations, there was ice at the edge of the lake the following day - so there.

After our time up at Bear Creek I headed towards LA as the bike deserves some love & attention from a recommended service centre plus I want to catch up with a travel buddy I met in Africa.

Rich stayed inland opting to go from park to park heading south until we meet up next Sunday to cross into Mexico together taking the wine route down to Baja.

So my US & Canadian adventure is nearly at an end & the one & only disappointment is I didn’t get more then a glimpse of the odd bear. I’ll make a point of going to London Zoo when I get back. Eleven weeks & over 15,000 miles later, come next Sunday I’m ready to see what Mexico has to offer.

So congratulations, you’ve made it to the end. Sorry it was so long but if you’re looking for someone to blame email me & I’ll pass on my sisters contact info.

Take care & if any of you happen to be in Mexico over the next month or two be sure to let me know.

Ps. Rich sent an email literally hours after we went our separate ways, you’ll never guess what strolled through his campsite last night...



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Photos

Nice part of the world
to ride through on a motorbike.

North West Canada
View from the Alcan Highway.

Shane from Oz.
On the Al-Can Highway heading South. Fast.

Time to get up.
North Western Canada.

Highway 37 South.
Canada

North Western Canada
Thermals required, August yes but it was cold!

Home.
Shadow Mountain, Northern Canada. Still no bears.

One of the joys of motorcycling.
Fixing flats.

Jen's silouhette
in a house I want.

Photo 12
I want this house.

Back into the USA
Not as easy as it should be.

Larry Myers
Studio party.

A very poor picture of
Susan Gibson accompanied by Wy on the violin, he studied at Juliard don't you know...

Hannah & Austin.
Bigfork, Montana.

Drawn by hand by Austin
I did say he's talented.

Austin & Tank.
Tank is on the right.

Rich's place.
Designed by him, with views over Lake Samish.

Bellingham, Washington
Looking out towards the San Juan Islands.

Olympic Mountains, Washington
& yes that road is a much fun as it looks.

Cape Flattery.
The most north westerly part of the US mainland.

Pacific Coast Highway.
Oregon.

Watching the sunset,
something I really miss in London. Beverly Beach, Oregan.

Golden Gate Bridge.
Greg, you were never missed more.

Fellow bikers.
Small world.

Genuinely starting to...
feel like I've retired. Rich & Bob, Tuesday afternoon at the swimming hole. Swim a little, chat alot.

Getting too used to the good life
As I'm heading south along the west coast, there's a lot of time to be spent watching the sunset.

Comments

[Marlene]

Worth the read!
Hi Brian: Thanks for the long catch up blog! Glad to know you are safe and sound and past any Bear incidents! Who knew that you would repel them? You started out worried about them, and you ended up almost wishing and daring one to cross paths with you! Be safe and have fun! (You seem to be doing just that!) Marlene

[Claire]

Brian 'bear dodger' Gohery
What a great read...(it killed time while I ate my lunch at my desk). Having tried to get my 6 month pregnant self into a sleeping bag at hte weekend on scout camp, I can sympathise....take care, C x

[Una]

Good going!
Hey Brian, glad to hear you're doing so well still, and that immigration wasn't tooooo bad! Love all the photos, and the stories. I'll keep my fingers crossed that you find a bear (any kind, and colour, any size) whose internal sat-nav is off course, and happens to be further south!