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Cambria to LA - The End of the Journey

I was a very reluctant starter on the day we left Buttonwillow so I sent Marty off to breakfast without me so that I could have a few more zzz’s. He returned to soon but he came bearing hot coffee and muffins so I had to forgive him and smile sweetly though my eyes still wanted to be shut.

We had a cruisey ride to on our friend John’s place near Cambria. He needed help rearranging vehicles so we got to drive his BMW into town. A real hardship!! We were taken to lunch at a really nice little French restaurant and then we headed off into Cambria township to Jim and Alice Williams place where we would be staying for a couple of days while we attended the California VOC Rally. We went to dinner at a local restaurant with all the other rally participants then went back to rally HQ to drink wine, beer and tell tales.

The Saturday rally ride took us up the PCH, (Pacific Coast Highway) one of our favourite stretches of road. Stopped at Ragged Point to admire the view then carried on up the coast to a restaurant for lunch. Unfortunately it was closed for a private wedding so it was back down the road from whence we had come to another restaurant. We had a quick ride back stopping at the Seal Colony where we met 3 poms on BMW GS’s. They were getting to grips with the vastness of the country and said that they had set themselves an impossible schedule and were now just trying to get to Mexico before their 3 weeks ran out.

A BBQ was held at rally headquarters (a local motel) that night with ample beer and wine flowing. Another rally ends all too quickly.

We headed back to Jim’s about 11pm where upon Jim and I began planning a new adventure. One that Marty is not at all keen on doing. Jim wants to go to Birdsville, Australia in the heart of the GAFFA. I want to ride to the tip of Cape York so we have formed a loop route that will encompass both. My job when I get home is to see if it is feasible and/or affordable. It’s nice to have something to plan as this trip is fast coming to and end.

We left for Carmel late Sunday afternoon having been side tracked by Jim who bought his blow gun and target out. The more beer he gave me to drink the more accurate I became. We rode the PCH again – at a more leisurely pace. I spotted a pod of whales so we pulled over and spent quite some time watching them. That was cool.

Arrived at my sister’s Rachelle’s place about 5ish. Had a pleasant night yakking and supping wine. She had to work the next day so we rode in to Carmel as I wanted to have a look at the shops. Carmel is a much yuppier version of Parnell. Not Marty’s idea of fun at all and his lack of enthusiasm was very apparent so after about ½hr I put him out of his misery – almost – and we went to a less yuppie shopping centre just up the road. A bloke spotted the AJS logo on his shirt and by the time I had returned from the little girl’s room they were great buddies. We spent the next three hours drinking coffee and talking to him and his wife. Our first brush with residents of Pebble Beach. He is allowed to have his motorcycle there but he has to 'quietly ease' it in and out of the gated community. No revving allowed.

Another night yakking and supping and then an early start to be back in LA by 3pm. A must to avoid freeway congestion. It was a cool trip down, the sun not coming out till we stopped at Ventura for lunch.

After a wee nanny nap we headed off to a dinner to help our friend Bill celebrate his 73rd birthday.

I was pleased to get to bed that night as it had been a very long day.

So here we are. Back in LA and a little over a week to go before we fly home. A swap meet is on the cards for Saturday and some retail therapy at some point but no other real plans. It’s been a great trip and gone all too fast. We have ridden just over 7000 trouble free miles, seen some wonderful places, met many new people and made as many new friends. Hopefully we may see some of you in New Zealand so that we can repay your hospitality.

Death Valley

We left Hurricane and headed for Death Valley via Las Vegas. This city has never really held much attraction for us so as you can guess we didn’t stay there. We may have had it been the end of the day as we’ve been told that the best way to see Vegas would be at night. Instead it was the middle of the day and stinking hot. We pulled into a gas station for gas and discovered the on ramp was closed and the directions I was given to get back onto IS15 didn’t seem to be working. We stopped and asked the first person we found - a kiwi from Geraldine. Luckily he was able to point us in the right direction and we headed for Pahrump where we stayed the night.

The plan was for an early start so that we would get through Death Valley before the hottest part of the day and by some strange occurrence it happened.

I don’t know why I have always wanted to go to Death Valley as it is really just 100’s of miles of nothing. And very hot nothing at that. But it was strangely beautiful in a barren killingly hot sort of way. We saw a coyote trudging wearily across the burning sands in search of shelter or water or maybe both. What a hard life he has merely to exist. Or maybe he was just looking dejected because Roadrunner had been about. (Wylie Coyote and Road Runner are my favourite cartoon characters). We stopped at Badwater, so named as the water is very salty and an early explorer’s mule refused to drink it. It is also the lowest point in the USA at 282 feet below sea level. We carried on eventually arriving at the visitor’s centre where we enquired about Scotty’s Castle (and saw Road Runner). To go there added another 80 odd miles to the days travelling and Marty had seen all the desert he needed and so I have put that on the still to do list.

The 45° temperatures had sure depleted the body of fluids (our own supplies gone by Badwater) so we stopped at Stovepipe Wells to replenish. Marty drank 2 - 32oz cups with hardly a pause. I managed one. Had a chat with a couple of Harley riders then headed on our way. Gas was getting low but at $5.19 a gallon Marty decided that we could make it out of the park with what we had. Thankfully he was right and we made it to Lone Pine. Met up with our Harley friends here and luckily had a discussion with them on our travel plans or we would have ended up in Yosemite instead on Bakersfield for the night.

Bakersfield came and went as Marty thought that it would be best to stay on the west side of town so we rode passed all the motels on the eastern side and then discovered that there were no others so we ended up in Buttonwillow for the night. A one horse town just off the 5.

We had travelled nearly 400 miles in stinking hot weather so as soon as we checked in I was off to the pool to cool off. It was heaven.

We found an Indian Restaurant near the motel so headed there for dinner before crawling into bed.

The North Rim

We had a later start than planned as I read my watch as 6.45am when it was really 8.45am. Oh well we are on holiday and there was no real rush to start the day. Marty’s view was slightly different but there was little he could do about it.

Pulling into the gas station we noticed a guy on a Ducati programming his GPS. He was still there pushing buttons when we pulled out some 10 minutes later. Thank goodness we don’t have one or we would never get anywhere.

We didn’t do the loop through Monument Valley as we were both feeling a little Red Rocked out so we carried onto the town of Page. Called into a tourist info shop and got talking to a local native American guy who was very helpful in pointing out a good motorcycling route that would take us to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. The very touristy South Rim will have to wait for another time.

First stop was to see Horseshoe Bend, a famous view of the Colorado River as it winds its way 180° around a huge rock. It is a ¾ mile walk from the carpark but well worth it. Marty had to take control of the camera as I couldn’t bring myself to get close to the edge.

Next stop was at the Navajo Bridge. It is no longer used for traffic but you can walk out on it and view the Colorado River. It was built in 1927.

The road that took us to Lake Jacob where we hoped to spend the night took us past the Vermillion Cliffs which were again a spectrum of colour depending on the sunlight.

We pulled up outside the one and only motel in Jacob Lake to be met by a fellow motorcyclist who informed us that there were no rooms left at the inn, nor in the camp some 30 miles up the road but he would be happy to share his room with us as it had two double beds and as it had cost him $118 he really wanted to find someone to share the cost. We happily agreed. Our new room mate, Jorko, was travelling on his BMW that he had shipped out from Finland. It was an interesting night and despite him telling us he planned to retire early he kept us up with his tales. He writes for a Finish motorcycle magazine and is also supplied with various articles of clothing from Rukka which he tests and writes reports on. His most prized possessions seemed to be the 3 pairs of undies valued at about $500. Amazing that anyone could afford them. That amount of money would give Marty two lifetimes worth of underwear.

Hoping to see the sunrise we were up and on the road early but cloud cover spoilt any chance of that happening. It was a 45 mile ride to the North Rim from Lake Jacob. Apart from a couple of vehicles travelling in the opposite direction we were the only ones on the road so it was quite a surprise to find the carpark already 80% full until you see the vast amount of accommodation there.

We set out on a short walk to Bright Angel Lookout and our first real view of the Canyon and how huge it is. For those interested it is 277 river miles long, up to 18 miles wide, and a mile deep. The North Rim is 8000ft while the South Rim is only 7000ft. No way my little camera can capture that!

Back on the bike and onto a narrow twisting road for 24 miles to reach Cape Royal. Again we had issues with car drivers who don’t know how to drive these roads. Despite there being room for two vehicles to pass one car just stopped dead in front of us when he saw a car approach from the other direction. You can’t afford inattention.
We did the 1km walk admiring the views from various vantage points then headed back down the road and onto Point Imperial which is 8800ft high and offered the most spectacular views of the day. The weather was starting to close in so we decided to hasten our departure. It was a cool damp ride out of the park but by the time we reached Fredia some 80 odd miles away in the valley we were warm and dry. Stopped for a cuppa at the local garage come store and was amused by their road sign. Nearly bought the T-shirt but Marty’s sighs and groans at even that small amount of extra weight on the bike changed my mind.

Somehow or other we ended up on the road that led us back to Zion National Park. At the big tunnel we were given the baton to carry through to the ranger on the other side signifying we were the last vehicle through. As I handed it to her I said " That unlike American’s , Kiwi’s knew how to pass a baton without dropping it" She laughed and we continued on our way. We didn’t stop in Zion as we were both feeling quite canyoned out.

Parked up for the night in the town of Hurricane. Hopped into the pool for a dip and met a lady from Hamner Springs. Kiwis are everywhere.

Escalante to Mexican Hat

Leaving Escalante we followed Highway 24E to Torrey. What a road! Twists and turns climbs and drops and gorgeous scenery for the pillion to enjoy. We didn’t ride The Devil’s Backbone as it was gravel and the threat of a percussion puncture on these remote roads was too real to ignore. We stopped in Torrey for lunch and met local identity Terry on our arrival. He had already had a few bevies, was very chatty and could not contain his enthusiasm because we had turned up on a BMW not a Harley. He spent quite a lengthy period telling us what a heap of s…t he thought these were before moving onto his experience with the release of two Golden Eagles a couple of weeks earlier. He proudly told us that he was the first person to have kissed and stroked the head of a wild bald eagle and there were now pictures of the deed on the internet. He was about to give us the details when a pickup arrived carrying a Harley rider we had passed on our way into town. He was one of a group from Italy and he had crashed his bike, splitting the crankcases and the bike was bleeding to death back up the mountain. Terry forgetting his dislike of Harleys now had a new crusade, and we were free to go and get our lunch.

We made a quick visit to the information centre before leaving town and were told that we should visit Capitol Reef National Park. Its claim to fame is the Waterpocket Fold described in the brochure as a giant, sinuous wrinkle in the earth’s crust that stretches for 100 miles across Utah. It is impressive, especially as you travel out of the park. The park also contains 2 deep twisting water carved, sheer walled canyons called Capitol Reef Gorge and Grand Wash. I thought capitol Gorge was more spectacular.

We followed the 24 for a wee while longer and then turned onto the 95 which is another stunningly scenic desert road. The landscape was continually changing from coloured mountains to green flats to grey mountains to flat wilderness. It was like being in the Louvre and you felt like you couldn’t absorb anymore but it just kept coming at you.
We stopped for a ice cream break in a little place called Hanksville. The gas station sales and office area is hollowed out of the hill hence the stations name I guess.

Another hour of travelling and we stopped on the side of the road to stretch our legs and rest our bums. We were out in the middle of nowhere so it was comforting when a couple of people passing us slowed and asked if we were ok. We’d only seen a dozen cars all day.

A A short while later we pulled into Natural Bridges Park. This is a small park that has a 9 mile loop road showing off three natural bridges. Pretty spectacular.

The last stretch of road that would take us towards the town of Mexican Hat was magic. There is a 3 mile stretch of gravel that has a gradient of 10%; several switch back curves and views that were out of this world. And of course the usual idiot car drivers. One we came across had stopped in the middle of the road with both front and back passenger doors wide open and was completely oblivious to any other travellers’ on the road. We had to stop and wait for him as did a car coming the other way. Unbelievable.

We found a motel in Mexican Hat and then went in search of dinner. The steak house had been recommended but as I am not that partial to steak that is still running around the paddock when it arrives on the plate and Marty wasn’t craving blood we went to a little Indian grill instead. He ordered the Navajo Beef Stew and fried bread and I ordered the Navajo Taco. That was so huge I gave half to Marty and we shared his fried bread with honey as desert. A huge meal for $24.

We covered nearly 300 miles today through some of America’s most scenic desert areas with little or no traffic. It was awesome and we still have Monument Valley and The Grand Canyon to come.

Bryce National Park

We took Highway 9 from Zion to Bryce. A very scenic route taking in a couple of tunnels, one of which is about 2 miles long with "windows" cut in the rock every so often to let in light and give you a fleeting glimpse of the huge rock races outside.

We arrived at Bryce about 3pm after first driving through Red Canyon. Bryce is a self drive park with an 18 mile one way in one way out road with several viewing points along the way. The most outstanding of these was Bryce Point. We were just blown away by the view. Alas our pictures don’t do it justice. Was definitely a time when an expensive camera with a wide lens would have been an asset.

The view at Rainbow Point reminded us of the Painted Desert in Arizona.

Eventually we tore ourselves away from this awesome spectacle and headed off in search of accommodation for the night. Easier said than done. We eventually found a room in the little town of Escalante about 50 miles from Bryce. Had dinner in a little café watching a small flock of Hummingbirds fight for drinking rights in the feeders hanging on the verandah. Perfect end to a perfect day.