Packing up to fly back to Aus. I’m staying up at our place above town, at Tasahe. This is a property I  built years ago. I haven’t been up here for ages and I’ve never lived up here… I dig the morning views, though a bit of a hazzy day, the horizons are inspiring… Though fudged up, dysfunctional and traveling on a downhill path, this remains a grand, magic filled land.

Paul’s 25th Bday…

… at the time…

Now we got a lottsa little pieces to clean, polish and reassemble…

Without, as Monk suggests, too many bits left over…

there is poetry in motion

there is poetry in sound

there is poetry in silence

The kookaburra’s noisy boisterousness

The 5:42 train from Brisbane, the rattle n shake of the cars on the track, the horn as it pulls into the station

The poetry of a neighbor wasting his time and water on the parched lawn, knowing it is supposed to rain tomorrow

The children of mixed ages as they play on the corner of our cul-de-sac

The wheels on skates n scooters and bikes and boards, a rolling poetry, a poetry of risk and pending injury

The poetry of flight, of wheels off the ground, risky business, but a good buzz

The poetry of burnt green which is the yard, rustled by the chilled wind, promising much-needed moisture

The poetry of brilliant colours, the drought resistant flowers of purple, red, white, pink and more

There Is Poetry

I am going to discourse without authority or reason on the topic of bikes of the type of bikes that interest me… and why I am interested in such…

I was talking to a guy today and explained that my interest runs basically toward Britt bikes from the 50s into the 60s and a bit into the 70s. The history of the main innovators/ companies is very interesting. What  took place is the WWII war machine took a commercial turn. BSA – the British Small Arms company went from producing guns to making motorcycles. Their logo remained the same throughout…

Bored and highly trained vetts went from building faster planes to producing and selling cars and motorcycles. The need for speed grew. World speed records were and are important. And the Britts did a great job of it all. A couple “situations” took place which eventually sent the Britt bike industry into collapse but not before they produced what is probably the sexxy-est two-wheeled ride ever produced…

The funny thing is that as these machines got faster and more dependable, the brakes stayed pretty standard / pretty shitty. It was not until the Honda CBs and the Kawasaki Z bikes got too, too fast that money was spent of brakes.

I also discussed that the Harleys of the 50s were tractors and by the late 60s AMF had fudged Harley up so bad they were not worth owning. I think the history and the mystique of bikes… Britt bikes, Harleys, rice-burners…. all is a bit askew.

And I shall eventually sort it all out for you…

eventually…

Been spending some time getting organised to wrench and clean up a couple old bikes I have…

first will be the 1957 BSA “Super Rocket”… a true “ton” machine from the year I was born…

I really dig the logo on the ol BSA…

And there is proof!

Was out riding with the boys today. We are seeing how much air we can gain on the 80cc bikes…

Of course I had a go and pretty much nailed it. I landed with the front wheel high and my knees dragging on the ground, my heart in my mouth.

These bikes are little and every time I pop the front wheel up I get dumped on my arse. My center of gravity just does not allow one wheel on these little things.

But I landed, stayed saddled and had the boys hooting like I was a nitro-circus.

In the end Mendozza was getting impressive air. Angelo is the conservative one. I had to laugh when we got the 4×4 skate board out and started doing tow-ins with the qaud.

Great afternoon and proof… I survived another year…

My last one-night stand is a classy LA hooker. She’s very suite. So classy I will use her for one and a half nights.

I fly out 1155pm so I’ll leave the room 9pm or so. Rest of the day I’ll use to write and repack and just hang out. All feels very good.

This is the gear I have been riding in, all disassembled…

All up I am guessing 25 pound/ 11 Kgs with the helmet. The “kevlar” pieces get squeezed into slots in the pants and jacket.

I like how the piping on the gloves glow when photographed.

Without the kevlar the pants and jacket are quite stylish.

And woke at 11am. Man, what a sleep!

Pack and ready to fly south in 12 hours.

More later

I spoke to my bro-inlaw, Ron, yesterday. He’d just done 625 miles on a 3 wheeled motorbike. That is impressive. Even on 3 wheels. Almost impossible on 2 wheels.

the art of riding is an interesting and diverse topic. I have discoursed on the different types of rides there be. Each style carries its own restrictions.

I’d like to table this subject as a topic to be discussed…

How do you ride? What are your tricks and tips per the art of riding…

Tuesday morning, my time. I am tooling down highway 5 through central California. It is fitting I end this road-trip by road. I was thinking of flying out of Sacramento. Looked at a couple of options. But grabbing a rental and driving to LA is what I decided to do.

Pulled out of Manteca about 8am. It was almost too easy to get on the road, on 4 wheels.

One thing I think of quite a bit is the fact that I wore ‘leathers” for 5 days straight. I shall describe my leathers in-depth in another posting but the gear weighs quite a bit and, though comfortable, is restrictive. The pants don’t zip down but do “open up” a bit so pumping the bilges in the leathers is less than easy.

I sit at a “Denny’s” about 100 miles out of Bakersfield. LA 200 miles away.

I know most people on this wonderous planet think all coffee is either instant or created by a large, noisy machine. One thing I like about the USofA is what I call – an honest cup of coffee. Choose the right franchise and you get a good cup of honest coffee refilled as many times as you wish. No froth or fluff. Just a nice dark and bitter cup of joe.

Driving through CAL is OK. Traffic is thick in most all places. The roads are not that great. Lots of commerce and business in this central valley so the roads are bizzy, bizzy.

California… what a place. Very cool and very weird. I always contend that CAL is not part of the USA. But rather a country unto itself. I need to do some research and write a bit on this wild and urbanised place. Bankrupted by Arnold, abused by generations, CAL is a golden land that shall forever be contested.

More later…

So I sit in CK’s Bar n grill in Lathrop, California. I have just ordered some Mexican style “Arizona egg rolls” and a tall IPA.

My body has that inner-ear confusion, like when you are on a boat too long. A mild case of vertigo and a strange buzzing in my ears. I dropped over 7000 feet today with many ups-n-downs so my hearing is impaired. I can’t quite equalize.

Friendly folks around here. Have been asked to be served by 3 different people but still no drink… lets see where this leads. I think they are putting a keg in on the tap I ordered. Ahhh, I see it coming…

That first icy cold drink of adult beverage after a long, long day… ahhh… hardly touches the sides… need to get another pulled and ready when this is done.

Ahhhh…

Today’s ride was grand. Once I got into Taho traffic became urbanized and it continued into CA and to where I am now.

I marvel at how the terrain, roads, truck stops, stores, hotels, et al change from state to state.

Iowa is a gentle state. Being almost flat (lets be fair, it is a rolling plain place) there is indeed little change in altitude north to south/ east to west. It is a relatively well off place as well. Employment is relatively high. People smile a lot. Especially in summer time. Winters are harsh but the single growing season is indeed bountiful. Tho historically important Iowa does not jump to the forefront of past or present importance. It is perhaps best known as the place where the first primary poll in the US presidential race is held.

Nebraska is a hard place to describe. Consider that Warren Buffet calls Omaha home. Historically Omaha was a central brokerage house/ location for the USA’s commodities exchange. Much like New York and Chicago, Omaha has always had it’s own importance. And I still do not understand why. Though names like Ogallala, Fort Kearney and Lincoln are and shall be forever renowned.

Why renowned? I hear you ask… The path I just traveled is, in modern days, known as “Interstate 80”. In times past it has been known as the “Lincoln Highway”. Mainly because this is the route that Abe Lincoln agreed to for what became the “transcontinental railway”. Indeed a modern feat/ wonder of the modern world. Before that it was the “Oregon – California trail”. The early settlers of this grand landscape walked, bled, starved, died and thrived on this route. Before that it was the path the indians followed over and through the great divide. They had followed the bison and they had been traveling these byways for millennium. The path I have just traversed has been trod by generations for millenniums immemorial.

Wyoming is cowboy country. I have traditionally struggled with Wyoming. As a youth I thought goat ropers came from Wyoming. Hell, western Nebraska had goat ropers when I was a youth. Now they are just interesting people. Wyoming (and western Nebraska) favour large oval belt buckles. Stetson hats. Boots are also part of the attire. Names like Laramie, Cheyenne, Castle Rock and Butte are well known and shall be names generation after generation hear-told.

Utah is a hard, hard land. Dry mountains and high chaparral, and Mormon religion, and salt flats, and… It is a harsh place. I honestly did not stop in Utah (only for a quick refuel) but know in 95 when I’d last visited I could not get a cup of coffee in Salt Lake City… now that IS HARSH.

Nevada is a whore that makes no bones about being a whore. Like a whore Nevada has little to offer so it premeditatedly prostitutes itself. And does so with confidence and, while banking the proceeds from the prostitution, a sly smile on her face. Everywhere I went in Nevada there we slot machines. Gambling is endemic. Think of the mythical names of “Vegas”, “Taho”, “Sparks”…  I think I like Nevada a lot…

California… man, oh man, CA… Love n Hate with me. A state so large it should be a country. But is perpetually bankrupt… financially? Morally? Spiritually? Dunno… I am still doing my research.

And the smells…

Iowa smells like agriculture. Iowa smells like shit. But, as I was sold when a kid… “that’s the smell of money, boy”.

Nebraska smells lonely and confused. Hard to explain. Perhaps Nebraska smells like Iowa in the east and Wyoming in the west and… Or perhaps I have not given Nebraska enough time.

Wyoming smells like dry, high, chaparral… dusty and dry. Nebraska has rivers. Wyoming is dry, dry, dry… mainly because it is quite high. The Continental Divide runs through Wyoming at over 7000 ft but, there are no peaks, there is no snow. Because there is no water. Everything flows either into the western or eastern drainage. No water stays very long in Wyoming.

Utah is Wyoming’s drainage. If Wyoming is dry then Utah is worse than dry… all that ever flows from the western side of Wyoming ends up in the Great Salt Lake. A depository for salines and minerals but little water.

Nevada has the Sierra Nevada mountains that smell of spruce.  Pine trees.  High, clean air, surrounded by trees and water. I rode past Donner Lake. For it’s less than strategic past Nevada has a lot of names we all know.

California… Cal I forn I A… San Fran, Holly Wood, LA, San D., and, of course, Malibu… Hell!, Mendocino… What a place. Insane. Psychotic, the home of all the fads… fudged up and happy to be so… I am going to say I shall change my view.  CA is way cool. I dig CA.

One fly in the bar is hassling me…

Life is a bitch… A very merry bitch with pink nickers and a warm smile…

I like life. I like friendly bars in the middle of urbanization. Where Spanish is as common as English. Where south meets east and the egg roles ain’t egg roles but are very tasty and remind me of a good mexican food.

So many thoughts per this 2000-mile sojourned…. the physical, the mental and the spiritual… I am stronger now than when I started this trip. I have had many hours to think through my personal here and now and am better for the time spent in contemplation. Spiritually I am still a punk.

I smile. An inebriated smile… a happy smile. An accomplished smile.

I do defy preceding generations to do what I did; in the time frame I did it, at my age.  Yee-Haw…

I feel good.

In fact I’ll state that I am inebriated. Drunk. Pissed. Merrily pissed.

Life is grand.

After a long, much-needed sleep. Without the urgency of “moving on”. It feels great to NOT get back on a bike today.

Though I must admit each day has been easier and I now reckon I could ride with impunity.

I feel great. The riding has made me younger. The shoulder and back and the arthritis in the hands… all ain’t cured but through the constant use all has become “better”.

So some apple juice and coffee here in the free breakfast area then I’ll sort a rental car and prepare to drive to LA.

All is goo.

I get to put on clean clothes. I am soooo happi….

Am in Lathrope, California. just did 8 hours over 500 miles. Feels good.

The ride and knowing I am done.

Have scrubbed. Will dress and go find a feed.

And I get a complete set of clean clothes. Something I have not seen since past Tuesday morn.

Will start my report at the bar as I wait for the grill to do it’s magic.

More later

Great day in the saddle.

Man oh man… I really dig this bike. The more I ride it the younger I get.

I may never stop riding it!

Sitting in my hotel room… my One-Night-Stand… my $100.00 hooker… I have found that the “Comfort Inn” franchise of “one-night-stands” is as good as any.

I have a ground floor room so no stairs. My lovely machine sits outside my room…

I know, I sound like a foolish old fart. And I am. But, allow me to explain… the sense of accomplishment after a ride like today. I know, the accomplishment is similar to peeing your pans in a dark suit – you feel better but no one will notice.

But this ride is an accomplishment for me. I thought I’d struggle with it all and each and every day is easier than the last.

Sorta like riding horses… it can’t much worse than  the first day!

400 solid miles behind me today.

Woke at 4, in the saddle at 6. First stop was a quick refill near Evanston, Wyoming. Straight on toward Salt Lake City. Through the labyrinth which is the I80 maze. Followed Ron’s advice and found the place by the airport where there were heaps of hotels and a Perkins. Refilled and ran on toward Wendover. Refilled again and got a very, very bad coffee. Big truck stop place. Advertised as the best cup of coffee around. Took ages to sort and pay for and it was not that good. It did take a while so I was ready to ride and the coffee was forgotten after I hit 75 mph.

Somewhere in this changing landscape I stopped at a place named “west- something” and refilled and drained and rode on. I crossed another time zone. Now in Pacific Time. I arrived at Elko Nevada at noon local time. 1 PM in my starting time zone. I’d run a solid 7 hours. Considering all my stops and breaks worth 1.5 hours, I did 400 miles in 5.5 hours. Averaging a bit better than 70 mph.

yee haww…

So I hit Elko at noon. I was thinking of riding further but decided to stay. I was up early. I am fatiguing. I can do another 100 miles but I am not in a rush.

I find the local “Comfort Inn” and get a room but cannot check in until 2pm. So I dump my gear and have a look at ol Elko…

– quote – unquote-

Elko (Shoshoni: Natakkoa, ‘Rocks Piled on One Another’)^[2] is a city in Elko County, Nevada, United States. The population was 18,297 at the 2010 census. It is the county seat of Elko County^[3].^[4] The city straddles the Humboldt River.

Elko is the principal city of the Elko Micropolitan Statistical Area, a micropolitan area that covers Elko and Eurekacounties^[5] and had a combined population of 46,942 at the 2000 census.^[6] It is the largest city for over 130 miles (210 km) in all directions, making it, as its city motto states, “The Heart of Northeast Nevada”.

It is home to Great Basin College, as well as to the National Weather Service Weather Forecast Office serving most of northern and central Nevada.

…

The path I have been traveling is an age-old byway that traverses an amazing landscape…

I picked this trail up in Kearney Nebraska and am heading to Sacramento.

Known as the Oregon – California Trail is was created by the Bison, used by the humans and turned into steel and concrete  initially by Abe Lincoln and later by others. There is a rich history here.

I rode with the rising sun in my rear view mirror this morning. I was chilled until the sun rose and heated the air.

I rode through the wind ravaged buttes and natural monoliths that is the Great Divide. There is a starkness to this magnificent land. And a changling-ness. You can’t trust a land that can bake you one day and freeze you the same night.

Castle Rock Wyoming…

Coming down the western slope we end up in the lowlands of the Great Salt Lake.

-quote – unquote-

The Great Salt Lake, located in the northern part of the U.S. state of Utah, is the largest salt water lake in the Western Hemisphere,^[1] and the fourth-largest terminal lake in the world.^[2] In an average year the lake covers an area of around 1,700 square miles (4,400 km²),^[2] but the lake’s size fluctuates substantially due to its shallowness. For instance, in 1963 it reached its lowest recorded level at 950 square miles (2,460 km²), but in 1988 the surface area was at the historic high of 3,300 square miles (8,500 km²).^[2] In terms of surface area, it is the largest lake in the United States that is not part of the Great Lakes region.

The lake is the largest remnant of Lake Bonneville, a prehistoric pluvial lake that once covered much of western Utah. The three major tributaries to the lake, the Jordan, Weber, and Bear rivers together deposit around 1.1 million tons of minerals in the lake each year.^[1] As it is endorheic (has no outlet besides evaporation), it has very high salinity, far saltier than sea water, and its mineral content is constantly increasing.

…

I smiled as I rode past the Bonneville Speedway’s turn off.

Elko is cool. I like the vibe…

Found my attention snagged by this sign…

So I had a pie and a ginger beer which were great…

Toured the town a bit more and checked into my room.

As one night stands go this is a good’un…

My riding pants are airing out on the door. I have one change of clean clothes and shall save them. Recycling is the best I can do for now.

Tomorrow may be my last day in the saddle.

I feel so confident after today I am going to attempt the last day in one-run for tomorrow…

I know after today I can do the miles. So, with a big-arsed grin I say…

stay tuned.