The Baja and a Knights tale

We wondered why we chose to follow the California Baja on our trip. It was always in the back of our minds whether we should ride it or not, but it was more by luck than judgment that we were brought to this incredible place. I remember being apprehensive about traveling it, but the work on the shed meant that Tijuana would be our border crossing which meant the Baja was a no brainer.

We now find ourselves in the southern part of the Baja in a town call La Paz. The bike safely locked away......but only just!



After the journey through the peninsular this place is a jewel in the crown. It's a holiday resort which is beautifully kept with a bustling, very Mexican market town sitting behind the row of sea food and taco restaurants which front onto the perfectly turquoise crystal clear sea...... its wonderful.

Getting to this place was both difficult and rewarding. The temperatures in Mexico rises rapidly from around 11 in the morning, which means our riding has to start early and finish around midday. We also have to dress accordingly, our biking jackets being demoted to being packed on the bike. Once we had perfected this routine traveling became much much easer.

Going back a few days, we had a good time celebrating Sandra's birthday in a hotel in Mulege with a pool, a bar and even a pool-bar. It was good to chill for two nights. However, the harmony was shattered on the first morning. I woke up around 6 ish and headed straight for the bathroom, As I opened the door I saw a rather large black creature scuttling along the floor up against the wall. The body of this thing was the size of a small mouse with 8 hairy legs. I quickly shut the door and informed Sandra of my finding. Several openings and quickly shutting the door confirmed what was there. I had no idea what it was if it bites, or if it flew or carried small automatic machine guns. I did know that Sandra now cowering under the covers was not going to be much help and it was down to me to take care of it. I honestly looked around for something big enough to put over it but nothing came to hand.

Now to finish painting this picture you have to know I sleep with no clothes on and I was not going to face my nemesis naked. I had the bright idea I would go armed into battle with my motorcycle boots on. This I did. However it was incredible how vulnerable I still felt as I opened the door with said nasty bitey thing still in the corner. I swear he was looking at me saying "bring it on". I needed more protection.

As quickly as the boots came on, they came off again and I fitted myself out in my full riding gear gaining comfort knowing that the Armour met all European safety legislation and the boots were put back on. Sandra still under the covers was still no use but she was nearly crying with laughter as I prepared for battle. I thought I looked like a medieval knight saving his lady from the dragon like foe. She thought I looked like an overweight sun burnt half crazed biker with the fear of God in his eyes. For the squeamish I will spare you the details of the battle itself. It was mercifully quick and I came out of the bathroom triumphant if not feeling a little sick, my ladys honor in tact. Anyway August 18th should be known as St Brian's day.

We left Mulege the next morning around 7 ish and had a wonderful ride to Loreto and then onto Cuedo Constitucion going through more wonderful scenery. A quiet afternoon and evening in Constitucion meant an early night and an even earlier start. This town has endless traffic lights as you try and get out of town so it took a while.


Another great ride, the shed not dripping any oil, saw an early arrival in our current location La Paz. We decided to take a break in this town and we booked into a nice hotel and even booked a snorkeling trip which turned out to be very worthwhile. Leaving at eight we where placed into a rather fast boat with two massive 150HP outboard motors sent us off to the Isla Espiritu Santo island. The boat was quick, really quick, and I loved it. Even at this speed it took nearly an hour to reach our destination. A snorkeling brief, then we where let loose into the water. I am not a great fan of the water and I was actually fighting blind panic as I drooped into the water. Careful guidance by Joel our guide kept everything in shape and it was in no time at all that I was enjoying the views of large schools of fish and all their colours. The island is also home to many many sea lions and we got real close and watched them as they swam around us. It was incredible.


After an hour or so we climbed back onto the boat then off to a beach on the island, only accessible by the sea. We had our lunch cooked for us, fish of course, and then a bit of kayaking in the sea and a little more snorkeling.


The afternoon went by quickly and we had to get back, the two massive engines ( I want two of these) making short work of the journey back......



a really really great day.

The rest of the time hear in La Paz has been spent eating and drinking and planning the next part of our journey. We will have to cross to the east coast of Mexico to meet up with Shelly, my daughter, in Cancun. We have received lots of offers of help to store our bike as we intend to fly out to Cancun and fly back to the shed.

The Baja is a fantastic place often ignored by overland adventurer bikers who take the more direct route through mainland Mexico. Whilst I am sure that is beautiful too I can't help thinking they are missing a trick by not experiencing this magical peninsular..... as you can tell we loved it.

All of a sudden this adventurer biking malarkey its getting a bit hard

We had a great time in San Diego, well nearby to it anyway. The bike was in the shop so myself and Sandra took a ride into the old town on public transport (a trolley), very cultural and educational. That evening we met up with Jim and had a great evening chatting about the travelling we had done and what the future held. The next day we picked up the shed with two shiny new cylinder head gaskets.
A quick test ride showed that my right boot was now completely free of oil and the bike was running great. Dave, the guy who did the work, also adjusted the rear shock (remember we replaced that at Fairbanks) and the ride was so much better.

We said our goodbyes to Jim (knowing full well we would meet up another day) and went on our way to the Mexican border. This, dear reader, was the start of many troubles. I picked up my motorcycle insurance en route, no problems there, and headed straight for the border where I completely went into sheep mode and followed everyone through the checkpoints .....bah. We were waved through by a Mexican official, no USA officials in site ......... bahhhh. I was like a zombie feeling relieved that this was so easy. It was only when we where 5 miles into Mexico I woke up and realised that no one from the US could know that we had left, and no one in Mexico had any idea we had arrived so it's back to the border queuing for God knows how long, the shed getting hotter then hell as we tried to get back to the USA to tell them we had left. To cut a long story short we did it, and with all the right paperwork and stamps we felt better setting off this time. We made it to Ensander and a nice hotel with a talking parrot



This helped us relax. We even joked about how little cash we had left but felt an ATM would be at every town. The next day we set off south to a little place called St Rosaria. This town was in it's past, the first check point for the Baja 1000 off road race, but today it's little more than a collection of motels and a shop, and absolutely no bank or ATM. That evening we had a choice to make, ride on to Gierro Negro and hope for an ATM, or back 50 miles to San Quentin where we knew there would be one. It should be noted at this point that my bank had seen a cash withdrawal in Mexico and promptly shut all my accounts down even though I had sent them a detailed itinerary of places we were to visit. Anyway, we decided to back track 50 miles and get as much cash as we could. This was done early the next morning. However, as we climbed our trusty steed after the cash withdrawal lo and behold my left boot was covered, and I mean covered, in thick oil. A slow journey back to St Rosaria had us booked into the only other hotel in town and me ripping the shed apart looking for the leak. A call to Dave the chap who had done the work instantly identified the problem. The left hand chain tensioner had worked loose and was pumping oil out. Easily fixed if you have a 17mm ring spanner with a cut down handle to get into the awkward space which I did not. However the chap who owned the motel give me his tool kit and Sandra found a 17mm ring spanner with the handle cut off....... job done.


We knew at this point the rest of the adventure is going to be very different. No more the luxury of English speaking people and the good climate. We had to get by on what little Spanish that parrot in Ensenada had taught us and the riding conditions would be much much tougher.

Undaunted by this new revelation we set off the next morning and went through some very hot and windy conditions to reach Gierro Negro and found a hotel that was clean and nice wth a a great fish restaurant so Sandra and I ate well that evening. Today we had an early start. Very cold and cloudy to begin with, but it gets hot very hot very quickly. Really strong winds again blowing us from pillar to post. We rode to El Rosilaria then onto Mulege.

The scenery is really changeable odd rock formations and fields of cactus just like you see in the cartoons.

Some landscape is like you are on the moon and other times in vast mountain ranges. The only sad thing is the amount of litter that follows the highway.


The heat and the winds and being exhausted causing me to lose my temper (with myself) so we knew it was time to stop. We are hot, bothered , exhausted and overheated and needing a little break before we can move on. This all happening on Sandra birthday, one she will remember I have no doubt, but not for the right reasons. Anyway we have found an oasis in this sea of heat and wind. It has a pool and a bar and a bar in the pool ,so this will do as we rest up for a day or two.

Chapter Two Over, now Chapter three

It was with a little frustration that we pulled out of San Francisco. I have always looked out for secure parking for the bike but even the owner of the hotel could not open the garage door due to a car parked right across it, Anyway as it happened the keys where found and the car moved and we could be on our way. I liked san Francisco and the break did both Sandra and I the power of good. We were hoping to meet Jim there. Jim was a chap who we had met in Fairbanks and was scheduled to be in San Francisco around that time. Sadly the timing wasn't quite right and we missed each other.

The ride out of town was uneventful thanks to all the chaps at Garmin and the NASA boys who launch satellites for our benefit. Our target was Yosemite and it was an easy ride to get there. We had bought a year long NP pass which allowed us to get in without paying at the door. Still seems odd paying to see a NATIONAL park. I can't imagine that we Brits would queue and pay 15 pounds to drive into the Lake District or the New Forest, but there you have it.

We camped at the first campground we came across, pitched the tent in the heat, bought some stuff to eat from the gas station and ate like royalty on salmon and potatoes salad. We had decided to drive into Yosemite Valley and out again, maybe stopping at another camp ground prior to leaving the park. The trip into the valley was well worth the detour and ,as we where early, not cluttered by other tourists. It was a loverly ride cool and perfect biking roads, the scenery as ever in the National parks breathtaking.


We ate in the valley and headed out again, heading east going past all the campgrounds till we found ourselves outside the park, so we decided to press on without a plan. This turned out to be a bad idea. Not that anything bad happened but the scenery almost instantly turns from lush greenery into endless yellow brush lands or desert. This always worries me when I have no destination in mind and have no idea where the next gas or, more importantly, water stop is. A quick review of the map whilst being battered by some sort of mini tornado indicated that the next stop, Benton, was easily doable. However both me and Sandra did not say a great deal as the landscape became more barren and the traffic scarce. This gave you the 'we are on our own' feeling again. We did however see a chap on a bike cycling the other way. Barking mad in my view - cycling in extreme conditions. Little did we know he was lost and his distraught wife was trying to locate him which became clear as we stopped for food in the only cafe, the only house almost, in Benton.

Whilst eating the lady came in somewhat distraught about her husband's whereabouts explaining what he looked like and what he was wearing. Of course we told her about our sighting and off she went to go and get him. Hopefully with a happy ending.

As we entered Nevada things got hotter and hotter. Each small town we passed through had bill boards explaining that gambling is the road to all riches and it was only a matter of time before you would become rich beyond your wildest dreams........ We decided to stop at Tonopah, an old mining town long past its hay day, but we liked it in a odd sort of way. We decided on a motel as camping in 100+ degrees F is out of the question. It had its fair share of other bikes at the hotel we decided to stay in. As you check in the hotel you get to role three dice. If all three dice show the same number you get to stay free. I got two threes and a two.....bugger!

It was very odd seeing the shed all grubby and feeling sorry for itself against a row of gleaming, and I mean gleaming, Harley Davidson. One couple were stopping to polish there bikes mid route. I have cleaned the shed once since I got her and I thought that was a little over the top. It was at this point that Sandra had noticed some oil on my right boot. A close inspection of the shed showed that the right hand cylinder had developed a bit of a leak. Now I had noticed this on the last service at Roy's house but this was a little worse though I felt manageable. We had already received a very kind offer from a chap named Keith in Texas who had offered help in maintaining and fixing the shed. I would be able to manage the leak until then.

From Tonopah the road takes you around the super secret area 51. This is where, allegedly, all the aliens from billions of miles away land and scare the willies out of the local inhabitants who take very dodgey photograph and lay claims to government cover ups. We didn't see one alien but did stop at the famous (well it said famous on the sign) Rachel. We had a bite to eat and looked at the inflatable, exact copies of captured aliens, and went on our way.

Riding was tough, very hot and incredibly strong winds from the south. Time after time we had to change course as the bike was pushed over to the wrong side of the road. I was glad to reach Caliente where we stopped for gas but then decided to stay in the Motel as we where both knackerd from the journey. A great room and Sandra and I watched movies all afternoon until the sun had gone down to a reasonable level that allowed outside walking without the need for 10 gallons of water every 5 feet.

Caliente has an unusual past based around the railroad. I won't go into it here but google it and take a look for yourself....... there will be questions next week!

An early start the next morning found us confronting a local (I think) who insisted on telling us why the local filling station has a dinosaur for a logo and why that dinosaurs front leg was raised. All a bit odd, I thought but he was nice enough and it seemed important to him. Already fueled up from the night before we set off to Saint George a town nestling in the bottom left hand Corner of Utah which we had already decided to hang around for a few days as I was feeling the strain of endless miles fighting cross winds and generally having a tough time of it. (sympathetic 'ahs' please). It would also give Sandra an opportunity to fix her hair which had gone a funny colour at the routes. Politeness prevents me from disclosing the colour but it didn't suit her so it had to be done. A couple of nice days spent at Saint George we even managed to air our smelly wet tent out and lots of other bits and bobs.

However the shed was feeling the strain too, we had noticed my right boot had more oil on it than was in the sump of the engine and the leak was getting worse, This was topped off by the old girl refusing to start at all on our departure day. She was getting tired after 10,000 miles or so.


The non starting was traced to the side stand switch being faulty so I removed it, and connected the two wires together, but the oil leak was getting very serious in my view and I did not want to wait till Texas to sort it. It would also need some specialist tools which I don't have with me. In addition to this we had some pressing time constants to meet my daughter Shelly in Mexico. We had a little chat and decided to go to the nearest major city or town after doing the local national parks to find a chap to fix the shed.

A call for help over the Internet found a chap who could help but in the opposite direction to Texas. What to do? We so wanted to meet up with Keith again but this would take us longer to fix the bike and add further risk of damage in just getting there. We made the decision to ride back west after the parks and get the bike sorted ASAP. We feel bad about not seeing Keith but this, we felt, was the best way.
Very carefully (with me checking the oil every time we stopped) we went on to Zion NP. What a great place with incredible rock formations and indescribable views

We were a little jaded about National Parks after Denali, but this time things were very different. Come and go as you please and generally you have a free 'ish' time. I liked it a lot

I also liked the tunnel out out of Zion - over a mile in length. From Zion it was onto Bryce NP and this turned out to be a nice surprise too. Not too crowded and lots of freedom to walk or ride. Again, mind boggling sculpture caved out by mother nature herself with incredible colours.


From Bryce it was a long ride back to Mount Carmel a quiet little collection of gas stations and motels between Bryce and the Grand Canyon

The next day was a short ride to the Canyon. It surprises me why anyone would take a camera to this wonderful place. You can snap all day long and you will not capture a millionth of this spectacular natural phenomena. It is simply the greatest thing I have ever seen. Visit it before you die and try and tell me any different. (Back to the realities of nursing a sick bike around in very hot temperatures) We headed back to saint George on route to San Diego and the man who could fix our bike.

It was time to have a little fun at saint George and, since the law permits bikers to ride without helmets, we decided to go and get our tea on the bike without our lids. I have never done this before and will not do it again. For those of you who own BMW motorcycles will know they are not the most sophisticated bike in the world and a helmet usually hides a gaggle of different noises coming from the gearbox engine and drive train. It's particularly bad when your BMW is 12 years old and spewing oil like a severed artery. What a collection bangs grinds and bumps! It can all be cured by keeping your helmet on, preferably with ear plugs in. I came off the bike a paranoid mess. Loaded with a big bucket of KFC finest selected chicken and twelve buds we went back to drown our sorrows......... it worked very well.

From saint George we set off the next morning. Helmets on and ear plugs buried deep deep into my ears we were heading south west to San Diego. The landscape again was hot, sandy, dry and still very windy but we pressed on, passing through Las Vegas (we couldn't bring ourselves to stop there) We did drive down the boulevard to see the endless gambling and night spots, then on towards San Diego. We stopped at Baker, another collection of motels, gas and gift shops and, it signposted, the gateway to death valley. We stayed the night in a cheap Mexican style motel which had a great pool, condemmend by the local authority which kept the crowds away, but not Sandra and I.

Then on to San Diego and sanctuary for the Shed. We have dropped her off and she is getting sorted by a very competent ex BMW racing guy. I am sure she will be back in fighting form. One advantage to coming to San Diego is we have met up with Jim who we met in Fairbanks. It was great to see him and catch up with all his stories of his travels and swap them with ours. He looked relaxed and happy proving that this traveling game can be good for you.
So now what. Well its goodbye USA (its been a blast) and Buenos Dias Mexico. The next few days will be interesting as we prepare for our first non English speaking country.




Adios

Dali..... his part in our downfall, well almost

SAN FRANCISCO wow we made it here. How I would love to tell you I was sitting on the dock of the bay watching the tide on this loverly sunny Californian afternoon, but no, I am the Laundromat getting all our clothes washed and dried...... California dreaming is becoming a reality......not.

After we left Oregon and continued our way down the famous route 101 we stayed at a rather seedy set of motels in Arizona beach. Often called ?Mom and Pop? motels these places, past there prime, had obviously flourished once but now seemed a little run down. Saying that, the owners did all the right stuff and said the right things and we where made very welcome.


We settled in. I killed a big black bug on the carpet and that was that. Arizona beach must have been a hot spot at one time or another. It had a gift shop and the old milking shed, all sadly looking as run down as the motel and long deserted by both owners and tourists alike. The beach was lovely and Sandra and I caught some rays. I swam about 20 miles in order to stay in shape though it may have looked to the untrained eye that I paddled up to my shins and ran out the water yelling the Pacific is too bloody cold to swim in.

We decided to eat in town that evening a distance of about 15 miles. The sun was shining and it felt warm so not really any need for layers of cloths. We froze to death that evening on the bike. We may have looked cool (or maybe not) in short sleeves and shorts on the bike, but I could hardly think anymore when we reached the town we were so cold. We found all sorts of old clothes and thermal underwear in the panniers for the trip back and put them all on so looking cool on the way back was out of the question.

We left early the next morning in order to get some miles under our belt. We did 60. A whole days riding and we did 60 miles. Move over Ted Simon the Robinson are the new kings (and Queens) of endurance adventure motorcycling. It has to be said that we have lost a little of our pace at this point. We now stop more ,we look at things more and explore little side roads. This means distance suffers but the adventure is richer for it.

That evening was spent at a a beautiful little camp site by a river. Mainly RVs but a spot for tents too. An open fire and some home (tent) cooking made for a lovely but cold night.

We woke to fog, my God, this coast is a fog magnet. Its everywhere obscuring views and making life on the bike cold. The camp site was on a poor road and it was 16 miles of dense fog and poor single road till we popped back onto 101.

We were heading towards the famous red woods and these did not disappoint. The fog lifted, the sun shone and we made up some time. The red woods and astonishing avenue of the giants is a great biking road with lots of.... well red wood tress everywhere..... it was fantastic.

From route 101 we were planning to take route 1 to Fort Bragg then onto San Francisco. For those of you who ride bikes you will understand this road. You will know you have found one of the greatest motorcycling roads in the world. Enldess, and I mean endless, hairpins left and right tight corners in stunning tree lined soundings. For those of you who don't ride motorcycles I strongly and I mean strongly advise that you start and to get a bike a do this road.........

Now Sandra and I can do one thing well on a bike and thats twisty roads, the perfect pillion Sandra knows exactly what is required. The shed was fully fit after new tyers and new bearings (see last blog) and to be honest we caned the bike. We had unfortunately a couple of bikes in front of us much slower than ourselves but still refused to let us by. I even stopped the bike and waited a few minuets to let them get ahead so we could enjoy the road at our pace. But after a few minuets back on the road we had caught them and they would play there game of not letting us pass. Some careful if not safe action was required to get by and we left them for dead. It is not often we ride like this, we used to in our days of sports bikes in Europe but we both connected with the bike and road and it was incredible. I was absolutely wired by the time we reached Fort Bragg, Sandra was also grinning from ear to ear. I had a new respect for BMW's we had never pushed the shed like that but it handled beautifully.

Pizza and beer and a nights sleep at Fort Bragg saw another cold and foggy morning. Then off to San Francisco, which was about 165 miles away. Now given our recent track record of low millage I had calculated it would take seven weeks to travel this distance. We arrived at the Golden Gate bridge (which was covered........ you've got it, in thick fog) about 3 in the afternoon. The sat nav doing its job and taking us to the cheapest hotel in down. The Heritage Marine Hotel is only one stop away from being a hostel. But it's cheap and to be honest not too bad. The toilet didn't flush, the ceiling fan has a blade missing, the pool is a bustling community of plankton and other life forms but it was going to be home for the next few days as we explored San Francisco.

Now I have been a few times to SF. The last time was over 20 years ago, but it has always been my most favorite city in the world that is until Sandra and I walked down to Fisherman Wharf. What a shock. Not as I remembered it at all. Now I know memory can play tricks on you and time can distort things, but I can never recall fisherman wharf been such a tacky, cheap tat sort of place. I was very disappointed at the endless tat shops, the hard sell camera showrooms and altogether nasty feel.

Disappointed or what?

Anyway thankfully this was not to be the case for the rest of this wonderful city which ended up being much as I remembered it with lots of restaurants and places to eat and drink. We even went to one or two art exhibitions . One really caught my eye after we'd had a few beers (few to many beers as it turned out), a Salvador Dali exhibition. Dali has always been a favorite of mine so visiting the exhibition was a must. A bit the worst for wear after a night out we found ourselves, oddly enough, being talked into buying an original Dali for some astronomical amount of money. We were even left alone in the mood room with our potential new purchase to see (as the exhibit administrator explained) if would get along with it.

Now beer can do odd things to your mind and for a moment, it was just a moment, we felt we could buy this thing and only the advent of common sense and a nover full bladder on my part snapped us out of the Dali madness and we left.

We have done the tourist thing big time here. Alcatraz, cable cars, open top bus tours and clam chowder, its been great and I can gladly report that San Francisco remains in good hands, earthquakes permitting, and I would wholly recommend a visit, but stay away from fisherman wharf and go to Scarborough instead.