Brewery, Brains and Bike problems

Regular posts.... This isn't right.... What's happened? What's changed? Oh yeah........

After San Pedro we headed South West to Lago De Yojoa and the D&D Brewery. There's been a small brewery on the site for many years but about two years ago Bobby purchased it and started his own brewing procedures with several different ales being produced. We were there for a couple of days so I made it a mission to try every one. Several times! On the way up we kept on passing these roadside shops selling plastic garden ornaments. They were everywhere and really raised a certain question. Who the hell drives down a busy highway looking exclusively for plastic garden ornaments? Or who, on impulse, stops at a random shop and thinks, that's what my garden is missing, a sombrero wearing frog playing a banjo! 

Who buys this crap? 

When we reached the brewery we had options, camp or stay in a dorm or lodgings. Naturally camping in a rainforest and the first opportunity to use the new tent is the only real option. We picked a campsite and dragged everything from the parking lot to the site to pitch the tent. All in all things went pretty well. Both of us are still alive with only minor injuries and slightly dented pride. It was actually all pretty easy. The tent is easy to put up and Heather had put it up once in the UK. Most of our gear fitted inside and there was an area where we could keep everything that didn't fit. True to form it rained every single night we were there, conveniently it was well timed, it rained at quarter to six every time. Could set your watch by it. The tent stayed mostly dry but a little bit damp, when it did rain it really put in 100% effort. This was not drizzle! The self inflating bed mat is brilliant and makes camping comfortable and having a three man tent makes it spacious enough to be enjoyable. I'm not sure you'd ever want a third person in there though.

The tent in all its rainforesty glory!

The brewery is a "short" walk from Honduras' biggest lake. It took about an hour to walk to the lakeside and the next day we decided to try rowing across it. Walking's quicker!!! We rowed for about 4 hours. It really was beautiful an worth it. We may have overestimated our rowing ability and underestimated the size of the lake.

lakeside

It'd been Heathers birthday on the 10th, I was not a good boyfriend. I planned to buy a present but got bogged down in bike stuff and then the 10th arrived and I had nothing to give her and no plans either. We ate breakfast and walked along the beach. Luckily saw a guy selling jewelry so told heather she could pick anything she liked. She chose a necklace with a blue stone. It was time to pay so I got out some cash but the guy wouldn't accept it because he didn't have change so Heather had to pay for her own present. Brilliant.

I did manage to win back some brownie points a few days later. I'd emailed the brewery in advance to make sure they had candles and cake and the night we got there I managed to surprise her.

The candle was a bit large

The next day we went to a local river/holiday spot, hiked a bit and visited a waterfall. We even got a guide to take us under the waterfall. You quite literally walk through a wall of water and then along the rock face with water pummeling you the whole time. Eventually you reach a small opening into the cliff and can climb inside a small, dryish chamber. It'd make a brilliant hiding spot for hide n seek.

After the hike through the falls

We left the lake the next morning and headed for Danli near the border. Plugged in some music and rode. As you ride out of the mountains you hit a wall of heat. It just goes from comfortably cool to unbearably hot in moments.and you know it's there to stay. Our gear is summer gear but fully clad in armor and in mid 30s temperatures you melt a little bit. To reach Danli we had to ride into Tegucigalpa, Honduras' notorious capital city. We had thought about staying there one night but had decided against it. As we arrive into the city there is a huge tailback and the one side of the road is closed. We discovered the reason. That morning a car carrying three prison guards and a woman was driving out of the city. They'd been ambushed on the way out and the car completely shot up. It was riddled with bullets and the occupants obviously dead. Some had managed to get out of the car and one of their brains was still lying in the road. The rest of the bodies had been removed but there was a very strong police presence. They had a lot of big guns and were nonchalantly waving them at the crowd that had formed. Hence no photos!

We rode on a bit and both agreed that not staying in Tegucigalpa was probably a good idea.

We got out and continued on our way to Danli, disaster struck about 30 miles before we got there. A screeching noise from somewhere on the bike. It sounded like the front wheel, it was making an awful noise but we just couldn't find the source. at one point I though I fixed it but 10 minutes later the sound returned. I couldn't actually find anything wrong and short of a good shop to look at everything I was at a loss. Eventually we decided to push on. The sound become intermittent and we ere close to Danli.

Big mistake.

Giant fucking mistake!

I don't know if that ride caused all the damage or if it had been building and that was the straw that broke the camels back but the damage is big. Basically the output shaft, which is a rod that comes out of the engine had worn down. It is supposed to have a series of splines along the shaft which you then attach a sprocket (cog) to. that sprocket is like the front gears on a bicycle. A chain attaches to it which turns the back wheel.

When the splines wear out completely the bike output shaft can no longer drive the sprocket so you get no power going from the engine to the rear wheel. The picture below is a mechanic in Danli making a temporary fix. He is welding the front sprocket onto the output shaft. This was a last resort option. It's temporary and the full repair is to replace the output shaft. On some bikes this would be easy. On the Transalp it requires a complete engine teardown. Almost every single last nut n bolt needs to come out (that's the easy part) and be put back together (eep). Reading forums and blogs most people seem to think a replacement engine is in order. One guy took it to the Honda dealer and ended up paying thousands of pounds for the repair.

Christian working on the output shaft, it was a shirt off job!

A lot of decisions need to be made and I really didn't get much sleep for the next few days. I'll update you soon.

Oh Tino.....

Tino gets a post all to himself. I met Tino while searching for tires in San Pedro. I'd been to every tire shop I could find multiple times and no-one could help or was trying beyond looking in the computer system for a tire I needed. I was just about to settle on an offroad tire that was too small when Tino poked his nose into my business. He spoke good english and started explaining what I needed to the guy behind the counter. When he saw I wasn't really happy with the offering he dropped what he was doing and told me to follow him. Within 5 minutes of meeting him I was in his truck and driving god knows where.

The whole time this is happening we are chatting away about the trip and the bike and the whole time he is trolling me. In 5 minutes he could say enough things to upset everyone around him but the whole time he is joking, you hope.

We eventually made it to a tire shop where they had a pirelli scorpion which I got for about 60 bucks. Super cheap and an excellent tire. I was ecstatic. I was really starting to think we'd have to wait for one from mexico and pay twice the price. We went to visit his shop where he has a CBR600RR he's been rebuilding. I met some of his family who I am pretty sure were thinking that he'd managed to pick up a stray.

I finally got back to the hotel, said goodbye to Tino thinking that would be the last I see of him..... I was several hours later than I planned, god knows what Heather's been thinking.... Oh she's asleep....

We left the next day for Utila, and spent a few days relaxing and sorting out the bike as best I could. Truth is, she was in a bad way. 2 years of neglect will upset most bikes, the transalp seemed to have taken it especially bad and was refusing to run properly. The carbs were beyond dirty. I cleaned them as best I could. They are complicated parts and even after a good clean things weren't working properly. I decided the best bet was to revisit Tino. Oh Dear...

We took the boat over from Utila to the mainland and Heather got her first real ride on the bike. We had taken some anti seasickness tablets before the crossing and Heather basically fell asleep on the back of the bike. Guess that means she trusts me. It was an uneventful ride, the bike struggled for power over 60mph and was drinking more fuel. Definite carb problem. We stayed a night halfway to San Pedro. Woke up to breakfast on the beach before carrying on, we got into SP the next day and went straight to visit Tino. 

Needless to say Tino continued to rib me when we got there. Joking about throwing the bike out and buying a new one.

The suggested replacement

Tino and his son worked hard on the bike for two days. Concentrating on the carbs but also helping me with other bits n pieces that needed adjusting or replacing. After the first day he took us out to dinner in his favorite local Mexican restaurant. The next day Heather and me went back to the garage to see the progress.   Things were going nicely but there were problems. The carbs were so dirty that the jets were completely blocked and nothing would shift the blockage. Spark plugs were ruined. It took a long time to get the bike running again.

Tino trying to refit the carbs. Getting them in is a complete puzzle.

Finally, with everything back together it was time to refill the tank and try and start her. No problem, started first time. Tinos son took the bike for a quick lap of the block to test everything was ok but as he was pulling in the bike died and wouldn't start again. After a good 15 minutes of panic and the alarm system refusing to allow the bike to start we found the Ignition Control Unit had managed to slip its mounting and the connection had got loose. Simple fix. Plug it back in and away we go.

We went out with Tino again for a meal that night. We paid for the meal this time and Tino dropped us off back home. When I asked how much for the bike he shrugged it off. This was two days of hard work and he didn't ask for a penny. Can't thank you enough Tino.

The next morning we set off for Lago De Yojoa in the mountains. The bike was running great, I had a big smile on my face and heather was probably looking forward to a part of the trip that doesn't center around motorbikes! So naive.

On the road again...

It's been a bit of a while but I'm finally back on the road again. And not alone either. Most of you will know Heather but for those of you that don't a little update. I'd just ridden down through Mexico, Guatemala and was in Honduras. I completed my MSDT, master scuba diver trainer, course and was working in Alton's Dive Center. Happily minding my own business, enjoying sun, sea, diving and along came Heather to ruin it all. She had just finished working on a marine biology project in Belize and was in Utila to do her Advanced, Rescue and Dive Master training. We met, one thing led to another (a chance encounter with a pod of dolphins on our first date might have helped) and we were hooked. We were only together for three weeks and just before she was about to leave I asked her what next. Somehow we both agreed to go to south Korea in the new year and teach English.

After a year of living together, teaching together and generally being around each other a lot things seemed to be going well and I asked her to join me on the motorbike trip the rest of the way down to Argentina. She said yes and so that's where we are. Pretty brief sum up of the last two years but it covers the major points.

Meet Heather (she's the pretty one)

After Korea Heather actually went home for a few months and I headed back to Honduras where I've been working as an instructor again. I made some great new friends there and had a brilliant time. I've had to leave my Utilian family behind now but we were a close group who really cared for each other. I hope to meet all of them along the road again. Utila is a world within a world. It's very hard to describe without actually going but I highly recommend it. The easiest way to describe it are the three lies of Utila. 1. I love you, 2. I'm not drinking tonight, 3. I'm leaving on the morning ferry. Everyone hits one or two of them, most people hit all three. It's a place that's hard to leave and drags you into the lifestyle very quickly. Hard to resist a hammock on the dock all day watching the sun set and then partying until it rises again. Visit if you get the chance.

Heather arrived back in Honduras on the 3rd of June, by this time I was supposed to have the bike mechanically sound and ready to go. Needless to say that didn't happen. She'd been sitting in a dusty garage for a year and taken for occasional rides. The rinse and repeat schedule of my maintenance attempts went something like this: Choose a problem to fix, start work, fix problem and find a bigger problem in the same area, get overwhelmed by problems and halt maintenance. Try again, same again etc. It was impossible to get parts and the local mechanics were freaking useless. One example was a mechanic who was supposed to  change the brake fluid and install new brake pads. When I went to pickup the bike there was brake fluid everywhere including the brake disc and pads. Luckily I was able to get to the pads before they were ruined and clean them up. Anyway the end result was Heather arriving to me stressed out, a very sick motorbike and general chaos.

I went to pick up Heather in San Pedro where we planned to stay one night, head back to Utila and stay in a bit of luxury accommodation for a week. Instead Heather arrived and I dragged her around San Pedro searching for a tyre and various other spare parts. So much for the romantic reunion. Luckily I met a unique individual called Tino. He helped me find everything I needed but more on Tino later.

As a recovery from the dismal start in SP a friend of mine, Rob, offered to let us stay in the Lazy Daze Boat House. We stayed for the week in a bit of air conditioned luxury right across from the Alton's dock and enjoyed every minute of it. Including the shouting and invasions from the old team. Over the week we managed to get a little bit of diving in, a little bit of drinking and just relax and enjoy ourselves. before we really started the trip.

I'll leave you with a couple of Diving photos.

Heather diving

Trumpet fish trying to hide

Inside some coral

Damsel Fish

French Angel Fish

We left Utila on the 10th but that's probably enough for now. Next update coming soon. It might even include some actual motorcycle travel.

From Nogales to Creel, my first week in Mexico

So I'm in Mexico... Have been for two weeks now. I crossed the border at Nogales on the 2^nd or 3^rd with a recently faked driving licence. Mine has expired you see and I didn't realise. I only actually found out a day before I had to cross so rushed to the copy shop and did a quick bit of editing. Added an extra 7 years to the life of the licence though I am expecting my new one in the post eventually. The border crossing went very smoothly all things considered. I expected a lot of hassle with documents and language difficulties but in the end it was a rubber stamp job. Even getting the temporary import for the bike was easy if not very quick.

As was always my intention I wanted to get away from the border areas as quickly as possible. This is where the drug wars are carried out. The town of Juarez is considered the murder capital of the world with almost 6000 murders last year alone. I assume most of them were drug related. So, with this knowledge in mind I proceeded to drive for nearly two hours along the border.... My crossing was considerably further east of where I wanted to go than I expected but the ride was worth it. A mix of vast empty expanses and mountains. A combination I found very agreeable. When I was bored of long straights there would be a long twisty section and just when I felt like my arms would give out a straight would appear. Towards the end of the day my arch nemesis showed up and I spent 100 or so clicks riding at 20 degrees off vertical just to cope with the wind. I have developed quite a technique. Hang off the side of the bike into the wind and pretend you are trying to turn. It works and at least it saved the rubber from the center of the tire.

I arrived in Neuvo Casas Grandes well before sunset and found the Hotel California down a backstreet. This would be home for the next couple of days while I orientated myself and made a proper plan. As far as plans go mine didn't last long. I intended to visit Pequime on Monday followed by a ride to a small cliff side settlement and then back to the hotel. Nothing is open in Mexico on a Monday so instead I took photos of random things

A friendly horse

A small shrine at the side of the road. There are hundreds
of these all over mexico. Also there are many crosses by the
side of the road, sometimes a group of 4 or 5 crosses.

Inside the shrine

A cross on top of a hill near Casas Grandes

The classic Pequiem photo.

Inside the cliffside settlement

And the view from the settlement. Not bad to wake upto huh?

So instead I visited on Tuesday and planned to go to the cliff settlement and ride straight on through to Madera. It took a mere two hours of riding to reach the cliffs and then a further two hours of riding to reach..... Casas Grandes, back where I started. The road had been closed after the settlement so I had to break the cardinal rule and ride the same road twice.

The off roading was gorgeous and I managed to get a video clip using the gopro. What beat everything though was the genuine, ten gallon hat, boots and oversized belt buckled cowboys. I passed several along the road and each gave me a tip of the hat. I was half expecting gunslingers to come running out of the brush.

also available here

I finally reached Madera as the sun started to set. It was beautiful as it went down behind the mountains the sky was lit up with shades of reds, pinks and blues. I even managed to howl at it a few times while grinning like an idiot. (the howling probably implies the idiot part but there ya go)

The sun setting just outside of Madera, Unfortunately the
camera failed to capture all the colours

I stayed in Madera two days. The weather was pleasantly cool and the people were kind enough not to rush my halting spanish. I also managed to finally lengthen my sidestand. If you remember back in Nepal I raised the bike by about 3cms, one unexpected result of this was that everytime I put the bike on the stand it would feel like it was about to fall over. It also meant it was heavy to pickup off the stand. Now with an extra 2cm it is as close to perfect as I need. When I tried to pay the owner of the shop refused to accept my money and even handed me a bottle of engine oil for the trip. I got a few contact details for the next town and called it a night

The next day I headed on a short ride to Cuatemoc. Here I was to meet a Honda dealer who was going to help me get a new bash plate made for the bike. I found him easily enough on the side of the main road into town and, for the first time in a week had someone who spoke fluent English to talk to. We were soon visiting one of his employees brothers who was going to make the plate and planned a trip to see the Mennonites while the work was being done. The Mennonites are blonde haired, blue eyed Germans who used to live in Canada. They like to stick to their own ways without government interference and, in Mexico it seems, they have found their home. Just north of the main city is their “town” which has a better resemblance to heavy farming communities in America than it does to anything in Mexico. We spent the day seeing the sights and doing quite a lot of business along the way. By the time we got back the bash plate was finished..... I am now fully prepared for IEDs in Afghanistan!

My new bash plate

Some modifications will be done to slim it down a tad.

The following morning I said my goodbyes and headed off.... in, you guessed it, gale force winds. The kind of language I discovered I knew that day does not need repeating. It did eventually calm down though and I made it to Creel in the Copper Canyon. There was one small stop along the way. We had to wait for two hours for a mixed class road rally. I took the opportunity to practice my filming and editing skills. The short clip below is just around the corner from the police checkpoint we had to wait at.

Also available here

So Creel.... I think I will leave it there for now. Its been a long day and there is a lot more to write about. Right now I am down in Mazatlan on the West coast. Going to get a new tire tomorrow and maybe modify the bash plate. For now though I am going to eat Tacos, take a Spanish lesson and hit the sack.

You're in Buckeye now baby!

Ooops I missed my deadline. Missed alot of them recently actually. Since my last post I've been worrying quite considerably about the bike. The speedo and odometer have not been working, combined with the continually faulty Honda fuel guage I've been, on the most part, guessing my fuel range and regulaly ran dry. Performance had been an issue with the bike running out of power at about 70mph and a complete lack of tread on my front tire. Although these are not major issues by themselves I have been riding with a feeling of doom. Waiting for a wheel to fall off or for something to explode with the result being a painful bloody mess. As I have been riding along these images would come into my head and they were not confidence building. I had searched for help in San Fran and someone offered but in my haste to find sunshine I pushed on South to LA.

The ride from San Fran to LA was fairly nice, apart from the rain but I was used to it now so mostly ignored it or hid under whatever shelter was available. I took the 101 down the coast to LA and had originally decided not to go all the way there. In the end it seemed easier to make the final push and I arrived at Venice Beach incident free just as the sun was going down. I even managed to check into a reasonably clean hostel. In the couple of days in LA I managed to pick up two parking tickets on the same day in the same parking spot (if you get a ticket in the morning DONT remove it). On the bright side I will not be paying the tickets as I doubt I will be back in LA any time soon and for sure not with the Alp.

In LA I finally started sulking about the bike, she needed a good pampering and I didn't have the resources, the facilities or the know-how. I reached out to www.advrider.com  and asked for help. Almost instantly I got a response from DSM8. He sent me a PM and got in touch on the phone. Long story short, we arranged to meet the following day. In the meantime I started sourcing parts. Essentials that I needed basically came down to a new chain and sprockets. My old chain disintigrating on the way down the Oregon coast. I decided to make one last attempt at money saving and started calling round asking for sponsorship. Chad at Mid Cities Honda came back and said that if I could ride in they would see what they could do to help out. With no fuss at all I was told I could have a new chain and sprockets and an oil change all at cost price and no labour charges. Also a free, all american, hot dog. Although because it is a european bike I would need to wait till monday for them to be fitted.

It's not much in terms of total cost however the kindness of the people and the willingness to help out a traveller was a great reminder that you're never really out on your own.

I eventually met up with Dave at his house. He wasn't there at the time but had left the garage open for me with a firm warning that if I touched the KTMs and they didn't kill me he would. I soon learnt that this friendly ribbing from the gun touting american would be par for course over the next few days.

Dave had left his garage for me to start work and I soon had the faring off trying to fix the Odo and the fuel guage. Turns out a small plastic gear had worn out near the front wheel. This gear drives a cable which in turn drives the odometer. I eventually decided on bending some parts to bring the worn out gear back in contact with the wheel. Thankfully, rather than exploding, I now know how far and how fast I am travelling. From this I can also guess my fuel range. Also managed to confirm that the fuel gauge was (in technical terms) fucked. When Dave came home we fitted a new tire to the front (kindly donated by dave) and made plans for the weekend. I was duely informed that if I did not want to attend the ADV rally in Death Valley he would introduce me to the method of transporting recently killed dear and strap me to the hood of his truck. We both agreed travelling by bike would be better and so started packing for the trip.

The ride from LA to Death Valley was almost exactly 200 miles and there must have been about 4 corners the whole way. The ride was mostly uneventful apart from leaning about 10 degrees to the left the whole way to compensate for the absurd amount of wind. Dave had my luggage in his truck so it was fairly easy riding. We arrived at the Panamint Springs campsite in the early afternoon to a scene of pure havock as people attempted to erect their tents in 55mph gusts. My georgous 1 man tent went up in about 5 minutes with no fuss at all and we preceeded to wonder around the campsite ogling near enough 100 bikes.

The folk here were mostly hardcore offroaders with a tendancy to the insane. They thought I was mad and I thought they were mad. It was a match made in insanity. That first night beer and conversation flowed in equal amounts. There was even some green smoke in the air. I didn't manage to meet a single person I didn't like as everyone was friendly and basically out for a long weekend of pleasure. That night and the ones to follow all ended in the early hours.

On Friday morning I met up with two bikers, one on a seriously modified 89 TA and we planned to head to the old Manson house (Home of the notorious Charles Manson) however, and I made plenty of excuses for this, I did not feel comfortable riding through the sand. I blame a dead chain, a round sprocket and a pure road tire. None of these excuses made me feel better as I turned around and headed back to camp.

I spent the rest of the day planning a road route around the local DV sites and the next day I grouped up with Bronwyn and Rob for a ride to Deadwater. The lowest point in the US at -238ft. Named badwater for the fact that the water was very very bad. The salt flats spread out from this point covering the land far into the distance. All in it was a good days ride. Just cruising around at about 80mph and stopping regulaly for photos. That night Pablo, who had set up a refuelling point which no-one had visited, set up a different type of fueling point and gave me free access to it. ERROR! I barely left the keg alone all night and people began to comment on the Welsh never being far from the beer.

Sunday morning we said our goodbyes, loaded the bikes into the truck (my chain was truely dead by this point) and drove back to LA. With daves help and more than a few suggestions I managed to clean the carbs, flush the radiator, melt my bash plate and fit a drip fed chain oiler. Monday afternoon I rode to Mid Cities and had my new chain and sprockets fitted. Now, with all but the fuel gauge working I had confidence in the bike again. I was to spend one more night with Dave before heading back on the road. When he got back from work Dave decided it was time to unload some of his old gear so I have recently aquired a new bed roll and winter gloves. A small bit of America will now travel with me wherever I go whether I like it or not.

Since leaving LA I have once again met up with Bronwyn, a crazy Aussie chick with a welsh name who once lived in Dublin, Edingburgh and Seattle who is now on a trans-america trip. We met up in Joshua tree NP and camped the night there. The next morning we loaded the bikes in brilliant sunshine and, on the bare minimum of gear headed through Joshua Tree and on to....... You guessed it..... BUCKEYE!

Yes, the grand city of Buckeye is where we are currently residing in a stupidly overpriced motel with about a million truckers. It's as backwater as the name suggests but its a bed and a shower. God knows I needed one. Tomorrow we head to Tucson then Amado for the Overland Expo where I hope to find more sponsorship and pick up the last few bits and peices I need before heading into Mexico.

I was not prepared for the States but hopefully with the help of a few friends I am now ready to go on.

Photos below:

On the way to LA trying to outrun the clouds. I failed!

Still going down Hwy 1, Finally some georgous weather

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair.....

Camping with the folks from ADVrider

Water in the desert

 Can he make it?

NO

A Ferrari

Rob, Oliver and Bronwyn at 283ft below sea level

Would sir like chips with his salt?

The Death Valley salt flats

Joshua Tree National Park

Skull Rock, so named because......

Just before the sunset at the campground.

The setting sun

A pretty serious Joshua Tree

Night night

My highly organised tent

Desert???

Hiding from the sun

A final shot of the JT National Park

Seattle to San Francisco. Rain, snow, tsunami, tornado

So much for every Monday huh? I have a good excuse though. A Korean man stole my netbook about 6 months ago and along Highway 101 they have only wifi and no real computers. My theory is that no backpackers really take that route and as such there are no hostels. They have alot of RV parks (camper vans) and motels and even camping. Each option is horribly overpriced and only has wifi.

So, Seattle to San Fran in 5 days. Not sure if that is quick or slow but it certainly wasn't fun. Infact I think I will happily put the Oregon coast as a place to never ever take a motorbike. I left Kevins place at about 11 on Monday morning planning to blast down the I5 into Seattle, pick up a couple of packages I had delivered and then down to Portland and the legendary Highway 101. The plan was sound the execution was not. Within 15 minutes of leaving I'd picked up a puncture and had shredded the inner tube to pieces (literally) trying to get off the interstate. Fortunatly Alex had decided to give me an escort into Seattle so by the time I got off the interstate I met him on a smaller highway and we went in search of somewhere to replace the tube. A local garage didn't mind us using one of the bays so we got the spare out. In true comedic style the spare had a puncture which we patched up and fitted. This took some time and as we were about to leave Alex recieved a call.... I'd left my GoPro behind. Seems the puncture was a bit of a godsend as I would have been long gone otherwise. So a quick U-turn (called Whipping a bitch in the US) back to Kevins, grab the camera and onward to Seattle where I picked up a wetsuit, a BCD, regs and a diving knife. My bike is now thoroughly overloaded! Alex pointed the way South and we parted company. We'll meet again somewhere down in Mexico I am sure.

15 minutes out of Seattle and guess what? Apparently We were not good tyre repair people. I felt the rear end go soft and start weaving across the road! Not fun. Hazards on and teeth tightly gritted I weaved through 3 lanes of traffic to the hard shoulder. Standing by the side of the road contemplating another hour changing tubes and another angel of the road pulls onto the shoulder infront of me. Lance, the legend and a rider of a most majestic bike, a 1989 Honda Transalp, jumps out of his car and walks on over. We soon have the rear wheel off and all my crap loaded into the back of his car. I was a bit anxious leaving the bike behind on the interstate but with little other choice we head towards Lances house. There is an independent bike shop near him so we pick up a new tire and two tubes. Get them fitted, back to the bike and I'm soon on my way again. What can I say but cheers?

Lance pointed out Canon beach on 101 so I decided to take his advice and just before portland I turned off the I5 and headed to the coast. It had been raining all day and now it was getting dark. The new road was a minor road and had no street lighting. Combined with the rain it was too much and I pulled into a motel for the night. Hands and feet white and wrinkled from wearing wet clothes I curled into bed shivering having only covered 130 miles!

The next day, and up early for a long ride to make up for the previous day. I looked out the window and the sun was shining. I could see the road for a few miles and it was all twisty. A grin spread across my face as I hurried into my still damp clothes. I couldn't care less. I was on the road finally after a month of false starts. All was good. As I straddled the bike, rev the engine and wave to the motel owner.... It rains!!! Not just a little bit either. It pisses it down and continues to piss it down for the next 150 miles! Cannon beach? I looked, it was windswept, I carried on. Tillamok with its famous cheese factory? I didn't even slow. I'll give the North Oregon cost one thing. It knows how to throw a good storm. Waves crashing against the cliff face, howling winds and rain driving sideways. At many points spray from the sea would hurl itself onto the road adding to the misery. All it needed was a lone woman standing on the cliff waiting for her fisherman husband to return home and the scene would have been set. I did finally stop in a town called Neskowin. Shivering and looking like a drowned rat I stepped into the relative warmth of a motel reception. $55 for a warm room? Done deal. I checked in, turned on the shower and without getting out of my clothes sat in the bathtub. 6 hours in pouring, freezing rain and again only 150 miles...

Tsunami + Tree =  great place for a fire pit

By this point I was beginning to think I had been very unlucky to catch such bad weather. I was putting it down to cold fronts and other scientific reasoning but there is a deeper, more malicious story here. For, within 10 minutes of stopping, after I had dragged myself out of the tub and had dressed in fresh warm clothes I decided to make the most of a bad situation. I'd head out to the beach and get some photos of the storm. If not exactly comforting a storm does have a beauty all of its own and it deserved to be photographed just as much as anything else. So warmly dressed and ready to face the storm I head out into the..... sunshine. That's right. The storm cleared and the sun came out.

Moody Ocean

And another one

Figuring that this at least meant that Wednesday would be a good dry days riding I slept slightly more comfortably. The next morning brought more rain and another long horrible ride. My boots still soaked from the day before had now given up all pretense of being waterproof. My gloves looked and felt like soggy toilet paper. By the end of this day I would have twice poured out about 2 cups of water from each boot and spent half hour in McDonalds warming my entire body under a hand drier.

There was nothing... NOTHING that could redeem this ride. The roads were beautiful for summer riding but in the heavy rain they caused more depression. As the road turned away from the coast the mountains became an endless source of grief as frozen fingers tried to work the brakes and clutch for each damn corner. My visor steamed up and would not clear and it even hailed at one point making riding with the visor up an impossibility. I had to pullover and wait it out. I was offered sympathies by passing motorists and one lady gave me hot chocolate and a salami sandwich. I did make it through Newport and North bend all the way down to Brookings where I decided to call it a night. Just outside of the Redwood National Park and the real reason I was on the 101. I'd ride the great Avenue of the Giants, drive through the drivethru tree and generally have a good ol time.

One of the big trees

So it's Thursday morning and guess what? It's raining. I wont bore you. There were some big trees, some of them were huge even. The road would have been great except it was far too slippy to push so more miles passed with little to note the actual passing of time except those key moments when my gloves gave out and water seeped between my fingers. Or when the water, pooled between me and my tank bag, decided it was time for a change of scenery and subsequently drenched my nuts. The first bead of water to roll between my jacket and backpack all the way down to my butt crack. The inevitable shivers!



Friday morning... the last stretch. 150 miles to San Fran. I hadn't planned on visiting but by this point I just really wanted a warm bed and somewhere with other backpackers. The weather forcast for the next 2 hours ride? Rain and Thunderstorms! Tornado warnings and, you guessed it, snow!

I managed to make one good stop along the way in Ukiah. I stopped in a coffee shop where people took sympathy on me and helped me book a hostel in San Fran. I managed to not take a photo of the Golden Gate Bridge but I did find the hostel on my first attempt.

I've probably been a bit unfair on the Oregon coast. It was beautiful in its own dramatic way. The riding would be awesome in the summer. I stopped several times to look at the ocean and its ferocity was something else. Speaking to locals I found they had a love hate relationship with the weather. In many ways I think the weather defines life here. In the summer it is warm and beautiful and there is huge tourism. In the winter those who tender to the tourists must deal with regular blackouts. Tsunami warnings and random snow storms all year round. They have a saying here. "If you don't like the weather wait 5 minutes and it will change." I took this advice and in the worst of the storms you could find me sheltering under the nearest awning. One way or another the weather always improved a little bit.

Going to rest up a day or two here and take a look at the bike. There are a couple of niggling problems I would like to fix (the front tire has, in parts, split in two) and she is seriously lacking power. Probably one of the carbs is gummed up a bit. Wouldn't mind doing a dyno run as well but beggers cant be choosers.

There were at least a few moments of good weather