Durango, Guadalajara, y Mazatlan...

I started this blog entry on November 7th in Durango and I finally finish it today on November 30th in Puerto Vallarta. I didn’t make it down to Batopilas from Creel as construction had the rode tore up pretty badly and I didn’t really want to push my luck.

I rode from Creel to Durango in a couple of days and then cooled my jets to see the city. Durango is a nice City. It has a very nice ‘Centro’ surrounded by interesting streets and architecture. There are a lot of good restaurants and places to see. I didn’t talk to many people that could speak any English at all. My bad Spanish was a little frustrating as I could tell if a guy knew how to say it… something was happening somewhere! I only stayed for a couple nights until heading to Mazatlan across a very amazing highway over the mountains.

In Canada we seem to build the highways in the valley and have a few sections where you climb over the peaks and then back down into the valley. This highway seemed to travel the peaks and ridges of the highest mountains. Again, the scenery was spectacular and the cliffs were breathtaking. The roads were in great shape but many of the curves were so tight the semi trucks couldn't navigate them without taking the entire oncoming lane. Every blind corner had to be ridden assuming there was an oncoming truck leaving you nowhere to go. I had to be prepared to come to a complete stop or ride the shoulder if one existed. The weather was cool leaving Durango but as I came out of the mountains and into Mazatlan the temperature rose at least 10 to 15 degrees.


I booked an all-inclusive that I found online for a bargain and hung out at the Mazatlan RIU for 4 nights of indulgence and partying. The food was just ok but the room, the pool, the gym, and the beach were perfect. The hotel was populated almost 50/50 with Canadians and Mexicans. All the craziest people in the pool were from Winnipeg and we defiantly had a few drinks between us. Ummm…. I don’t mean body shots… honest! I hung around the pool and the beach most of the time and only made one excursion to town to see a live band on the malecon in old Mazatlan. It was fun, and I got to practice my Espaniol but it was a pretty early night.

From Mazatlan I rode to San Blas for a couple of nights and then to Sayulita just north of Puerto Vallarta. I can see why all my Aunties have been coming here for the past few years! It’s a very cool little ‘puebla del mar’ with good restaurants, surf, sun, and bikinis. Well… maybe my aunties would have noticed the surfer dudes more than the bikinis, but they were all there. Yes, Auntie Betty, It has become very clear to me now! It was bit of a reconnaissance trip as I had to head to Guadalajara for Spanish lessions beginning the next day so I only stayed the one night. I couldn’t believe it… 9 friendly girls from California staying in a gorgeous 9 bedroom villa and I had to leave the next day! Half of them were even my age… or at least within 13 years. I am sure to return in the next few weeks as it is a really is a cool place to hang out.

In Guadalajara I was booked for a 1 week Spanish course but I ended up extending it for an extra week. The course was quite intense but I know it is going to be very helpful with a little time and practice. I stayed with an older couple for a very economical $100/week, including 2 meals per day. Miguel and his wife Graciela are really nice people and staying with them gave me great opportunities to practice my Spanish. They live in an apartment within a great neighborhood. I would take my homework on my walks every night and find a nice spot to work. Some nights it was in a park, and others a patio lounge, or a local taco stand. Sometimes I would spend more time helping others speak English then I did practicing my Spanish but it was always good fun either way. The only down side to the apartment was that I had to find a storage site in the center of town for the bike. With that I didn’t have convenient access to the bike on a daily basis and had to take the bus to school. I had a couple of late nights clubbing with Sjoerd 'el holandes' but we managed to stay out of real trouble. Between that, and lunching, and getting to know Dave (USA), the Austrian girls (so cute, and good with the Spanish to boot!), Dillon (Australia) and his girlfriend (Guadalajara), and others from the school; I did manage to see a lot of the historical sites in the city. I could easily go back for another visit!


This past weekend I rode with the ‘Gladeadores’ to Puerto Vallarta for the weekend. I’ll try to get to that story tomorrow!

I will probably hang out here for a couple of days before I return to La Paz via Sayulita and Mazatlan to pick up the van. I am really torn up about leaving the bike. It creates so much flexibility when getting around and it creates a lot of interest from locals, other travelers, and tourists alike. But then again, I am really looking forward to camping with a cooler, an awning, and a BBQ!

Viaje con Dios!

OK, I think I have it right… it’s November 7th and I am in Durango. I didn’t make it down to Batopilas as the road construction had the rode tore up pretty badly. After reflecting back on my ride through Copper Canyon I have to admit I didn’t want to push my luck…

After leaving El Fuerte I rode east following the map given to me by Ray. The ride varied from hard packed clay, 4” deep silt, deeper sand, to ruts you could throw a body into and boulders bigger than my fat head. I dropped the bike twice. Both times were on steep left hairpin turns. The first drop was in sand and I was doing OK until the back end spun out from under me. I was able to get the bike up without too much difficulty and I continued on my way. I rode into the afternoon without another incident and I was starting to feel pretty comfortable despite the cliffs and what seemed to be a bottomless canyon only a few feet away. It was quite intimidating at times and I choose not to look down the canyon too often in fear that I may be crawling out of there. I am not good with heights. The second time I dropped the bike I tore off the left hard case. Once down I spun the bike around on the head cover as the hill was too steep, and the rut to deep, to lift the bike. Even after doing this I couldn’t lift it and I was preparing to take off the luggage when a fella stopped and gave me a hand to stand it up. I wired the box latch closed, and it has been holding together ever since. Time went on and I was getting quite concerned that the sun was setting on me. I wasn’t sure if I was on the right road and I had no idea where I was going to spend the night. I was starting to pay attention to small clearings on the side of the road where I thought I could pull off and camp without getting run over in the night. This was a legitimate concern as I had stopped earlier in the day to buy a pop and some junk food and while I enjoyed my break no less than 3 vehicles pulled in for more beer. One truck load of teenage boys were so drunk they literally stumbled into the store, bought a couple of 6-packs, slurred some profanities at me for not speaking better Spanish and sped off. They were plastered! Ten minutes before it got dark I rolled into a small Pueblo where I managed to get a bed, a flush toilet, a hot shower, dinner, and breakfast for about $12.00. It wasn’t the Hilton but it was God sent. Overall the next day went fairly smoothly until I met up with the dump truck. The road was very narrow and I pulled as far to the cliff side of the road as I could. I stopped the bike and waited for him to pass. The mistake I made was thinking I should stay on my side of the road. The mistake he made was seeing how close he could get to me instead of the wall on the other side. It was like a well placed hip check when his rear tire hit my side case. He hit me hard enough to knock me off center and towards the edge. I had nowhere to put my right foot down. I let go of the clutch, stalled the bike and grabbed onto the truck. I swear it was the second miracle on that trip. I was holding on or going over the edge. It wasn’t the steepest part but it was at least 300 feet down. I think my bike would have been broken forever. I managed to get the bike into neutral but I couldn’t move it. I couldn’t let go so I couldn’t start the bike or get it into gear. The driver got out, said something in Spanish and it came to me… ‘Empuje’! I had never used the word but have read it on a million doors… ‘Push’. He pushed me past the tire. I got my foot down, started the bike, and squeezed past the back of the truck. I didn’t stop and I didn’t look back, and I tried not to think. I was really grateful when I got to the hard top road. Looking back at it, it was a little foolish. While I made it alive and the views were amazing; I don’t recommend doing this trip alone, regardless of your riding skills. One drop to close to the edge or one drunk driver and you won’t be found for a very long time and you will probably be dead.

'Gladeadores' and burn outs!

I’ll tell you about Cabo (or tell you most of it) once I have left the place…

… Well, I left the place, stored the van in La Paz and took the Topolobampo ferry across the Sea of Cortez and then rode to Los Mochis on the mainland.

Cabo was nice. The campground was more geared for big rigs and it wasn’t exactly cheap. It was walking distance to the beach and easy to get to. I walked around the Marina area and was quite impressed by the scale of the waterfront upgrades and mega construction that has been completed, but it was amazingly quite to me. Every bar had someone in it but because there is 5000 places, 10,000 customers is a small number all of a sudden. From Cabo I organized my storage, chilled out, got bike parts, chilled out some more, toured San Jose (my first impression says I like this town better than San Lucas), you got it, chilled some more, and washed the van and bike. I didn’t actually get to town much as I was quite content either on the bike or by the pool. I had to reload for the bike trip, and besides, after La Paz I needed the rest. Liking La Paz so much, I returned. This time I headed straight to the hotel after storing the van and only stopped for breakfast on the way to the ferry.

On the ferry I met up with 2 John Deere sales dudes Dave and Jose. We drank a couple beers and they were then kind enough to share a bunk in their 4 bunk Suite. It was funny because I had spotted them and their truck (I was thinking of Tim) getting on the ferry, and we managed to get to know each other later.

All hell broke out in Los Mochis the day after I rode in. I managed to land in town the day before a weekend bike rally was planned. There were live bands, thousands of people and their bikes, cheves (the local word for beer), tequila, burn outs, wheelies. I met a lady who introduced me to her son (Ray and later, Taco), who introduced me to the promoter (Tito), who introduced me to his family. I was invited for lunch with Tito’s extended family and I felt like an honored guest. While cruising around Topo and Playa Mavida I ran into a group from the ‘Gladeadores’ (Gladiators) Motorcycle Club out of Guadalajara. They were very cool people that worked hard to communicate with me and ensure I had a good time. I ran into them chilling on the Topo waterfront with music and beers. I pulled over to join them and practice a little Espaniol. They greeted me like the gringo loco I am and we hit it off immediately. Angelo’s (right) English is really good and it made the difference as my Spanish has a long way to go. Hector (left) is the father of the group and the life of the party (he kinda reminds me of Daryl) with his son and nephew. Toss in more amigos and amigas from the club, a hundred friends from all over, and another 3,000 bikers and we had a party that lasted all weekend long. It was the real Mexico to the core. ‘Viva Mexico Cabaronnes!’ What went down… Something that was either a destruction test or a loudest muffler competition was very popular. Bikes were doing brake stands everywhere. Modified trikes, quads and bikes were popping wheelies dangerously close to wild fans while all the time the live band is rocking to an old Led Zepplin song in the background (and doing a very good job too). Broken bottles and empty cans were everywhere. Girls were stuffed into leather pants. Over powered, under muffled, smoking, screaming motorcycles were put to the red line. The police were watching everything very dispassionately. Hell, they even lead the whole drunken bunch on a parade. I had to step away in the photo or surely I would have been killed by something. It was a blast! What great people! And then I just slept in the street again, but this time I didn’t have my van… Ha! Just kidding… Remember the first lady I met? Her family made sure I found a good hotel that was walking distance to the festival. They also took me for breakfast and invited me into their home just to make sure I survived the weekend. This was another opportunity where I only planned to stay a day and ended up staying for a bit longer due to ‘super bueno festival’. I plan on meeting up with the Gladeadores again in Guadalajara and I will also call back on Ignacio and his family when I pass through Los Mochis again. I got a map to Creel from Ray and I am set to go up the Copper Canyon on bike via El Fuerte.

I rode into El Fuerte on Sunday, Nov. 1st. Ignacio set me up in a nice hotel with a great view at a discount rate of 300p. It is the start of the ‘Festival of the dead’ today. As it is was explained to me by a couple of people… It is an opportunity to go to the grave side for a day of celebration. Families go to the grave side with candles and flowers, other decorations, and a picnic (and quite often, a bit of tequila). I saw a number of cemeteries decorated with flowers and populated with people having their day with the muertes.

I rode into Creel today, Tuesday Nov. 4th. The bike and my nerves are mostly all together but that’s the story for the next blog… I plan to Ride to Batopilas and then to Durango via Parrel de Hidalgo over the next week.

It's damn hot!

Well here I am on the malecon in La Paz, circa de Cabo San lucas en la noche de Viernas (close to Cabo on a Friday night) listening to dude play guitar while I type away. I should be dancing instead, but this is really nice all the same. I couldn’t find a camp ground nor a hotel in my budget where I can park my unit so I think I will work on my blog until late and then find something to do before I sneak into a quite spot I saw earlier for the night. Wow, that’s a good margarita…

The last week plus a bit has been awesome. The weather, despite a threat of a hurricane, has been hot and dry. I hit the coast on the sea of Cortes in the Bahia de Los Angeles and had a perfect spot all to myself. I think I may have sun-burned my bum while I was there. I was camped right on the beach. There was a perfect sunrise, dolphins in the bay, pelicans fishing everywhere, and a stack of firewood for my own, and it all cost me nada!

I stayed there for a couple of days until my ice and groceries ran out and moved on to Playa Santipac about 400 km south.

It was just like when I was just there before with the same little bar, and again the beach camping was perfect. I met a nice couple (Arno and Ali) from Germany who are travelling from Alaska to Chile on their motorbikes and a fella (Anthony) from New York who was cooling his jets until his riding partner showed up to continue a bike trip together. We shared stories, cigars, and whiskey around the fire and agreed to keep in contact. As all of our itineraries are quite similar, our paths may cross again. I hope they do! Again,

I only stayed a couple of nights before coming here via Loreto where I stopped for cake, coffee, and a quick check for emails. Loreto has really improved since we were last there. While it was nice then, there was a lot of construction. It looks like everything is complete with new cobblestone streets and a major facelift throughout. Without a doubt it is the nicest town I have seen in Baja so far, hands down, bar none. If I was looking for place in Baja I would seriously consider Loreto. It was too romantic of a place to be alone so I left and came here. La Paz has a ‘Carlos and Charlie’s’, a Wal-Mart, Home Hardware, and even an Applebees. Hey Kayleigh, maybe you can get a transfer????

Hey, this margarita is good too! Anyhow, I have passed no less than 8 military check points. At one point I was handcuffed while 2 guys put the boots to me. Ha, just kidding, they have been very friendly and I feel very, very safe… in reality, the blood soaked murderous drug cartel heard I am in the country so they decided it was best to just shut down business for a while. And just so you know; as soon as I arrived in the south the hurricane went to sea with its tail between its legs too!

I have done it again… It is now the 28th and I didn’t get connected to download to the blog. That’s ok; I didn’t move the van to that ‘quite spot in La Paz’ either. I just slipped into the van at 4:00 in the a.m. after the music stopped and the party goers started from home. I partied less than 100 meters from where I parked and I could watch the van all night. I made friends with security at the door and they kept 1/3 of an eye on it too!

I’ll tell you about Cabo (or tell you most of it) once I have left the place… I'll be heading over to the mainland and to Copper Canyon within the next couple of days.

From Oregon to Baja!

I started this entry 2 or 3 weeks ago and I have since abbreviated it as I was afraid to bore my few readers…

Following my last blog entry I made it to Medford and ended up staying at an RV lot just off the highway. I went to the motorcycle shop to find it closed as everyone from the shop was supposed to be down at the race track. I headed to the track on the bike but I found the place void of life. It was a good thing in the end as I decided to Google my ‘clutch problems’ and was able to fix it with a minor adjustment of the hand guard. Who would have thought a slipping clutch would be caused by a misaligned hand guard.

I spent the next day cruising the area around Ashland and Jacksonville. Both of these towns are very nice. Jacksonville has a historic area that is right out of the California gold rush days but all the stores are filled with the same crap… antiques and stuff to make your bathroom smell pretty. I managed to take in the Shakespearean ‘Henry the VIII’ live theatre production at the Ashland ‘Globe’ theater and honestly I was quite bored. Again, the town was cool, the costumes, the stage, and the production as a whole was very good, but I should have got tickets to Hamlet or stayed in that Irish pub.

I left Oregon the next day and found myself in a RV park at Shasta Lake California that had campers and permanent residents alike. I got to meet ‘The Trailer Park Boys’ and I would swear the only guys that were missing was Bubbles and Mr. McKayhee. They all had stories of heartbreak and prison. They had very little, but what they did have they were very generous with. Dave jokingly (I think) even tried to link me up with his ex-wife. I think the exercise he was doing on ‘Tony Little’s’ cardio machine affected his words. It was the best… I have never seen anybody do something like that with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was going full out too!

I did a bike trip to Lassen Volcano and around Lake Almanor that was uneventful except right in the vicinity of the volcano where it was very pretty. The next day I rode up to the Shasta dam which had a great twisty but short highway loop. I then relocated to a basic camp (find Waldows camp in the picture) in Douglas City on Hwy 299 in the Trinity area. I did a loop that ended up taking me 7 hours. It went North on Hwy 3, across the mountains going west from Calahoo, south on 96 to Willow Creek and then back to camp. The road from Calahoo became so narrow that 2 vehicles would not be able to pass and they were very twisty and rolling in areas. I actually had to stop a couple of times as I was getting nauseous from concentrating so hard on the very tight curves and roller coaster roads. I managed to survive that and took the next day off to kick back and do a little walking around the camp area.

From there I drove to the coast and as far as Mendocino which is also a very cool little tourist trap. I stayed there only long enough to send out a few emails before I rolled into a state campground after dark. From Mendocino I drove through the Napa Valley, through San Francisco, and set-up camp in Half Moon Bay. Half Moon Bay was a nice camp spot right on the beach but I had grief with the park staff. I got back from SF a little late and they were going to tow my stuff away. I told the host I was going to be late but things got all mixed up and the word didn’t get to the warden. It was Fleet Week in SF so there was an air show featuring the Blue Angels, and of course the streets were filled with ‘live performances'. It was pretty cool to watch the air show from Alcatraz island.

After Half Moon Bay I hit the highway pretty hard and only stopped to get a new tire for the bike, get a service on the van, do laundry, and buy Mexico map software for my GPS. I confess to having camped in the Wal-Mart parking lot and on the street near the motorcycle shop. What has become of me???? The weather has been very wet and I haven’t even tried to get on the bike. I hope to cross into Baja Mexico today. I have decided that I have to travel down Baja and store the ‘vehicles’ in Cabo otherwise I will violate the ‘temporary importation of vehicle’ laws of Mexico that stipulates I can only have a vehicle in Mexico (Baja exempt) for 6 months. Once in Cabo I plan to store the van and travel to the mainland by bike. I will travel around for a month or so before returning to Cabo and trading the bike for the van. If anyone is heading to Cabo and want a bike for wheels let me know. It’s insured and has new rubber. All my riding gear will be in storage with it.

Sorry for abbreviating the last 3 weeks into a relatively short story but you can ask me more about it when I see you next… Today is Thursday, October 15th and I am at the laundry in Chula Vista California about 30 km from the border with Mexico.

Ok, now it’s October 17th and I will be travelling to Bahia De Angeles on the Sea of Cortez tomorrow. I crossed at Tijuana without incident and camped 2 nights just south of Ensenada. Ensenada was very quiet. The streets and shops are empty and it didn’t hold my attention for very long. I walked around for a few hours in the afternoon, got a tire on my van fixed, and spent the rest of the time around camp getting a little exercise, reading, and practicing my Spanish.

Guns, Bears, and Country Roads

I am having a bit of a hard time concentrating here as a small black bear has just paraded through camp and is now wrestling around in the blackberry bushes behind me… I am in Canyonville Oregon near Medford but I’ll get back to that as I would like to start off by returning to South Beach where I was a week ago.

Once again I stayed a day longer than I had planned. The main reason for my extended stay in South Beach Park was simply to enjoy the beaches and explore the town of Newport. As it turns out the ‘historical’ Nye Beach and waterfront area did not hold any surprises but it was a good ‘walk about’ all the same. The clam chowder at ‘Mo’s’ was very good and was probably the days highlight. I did a 300 km loop on the motorcycle via Hwy 20 to Philomath and back on Hwy 34 via Alsea and Tidewater my second day. Hwy 20 was a little busy and was a pretty casual ride. The return trip on 34 had some awesome banked twisty sections with really good pavement. I caught up to a truck in one spot where it was quite exciting so I just turned around and did again.

After leaving South Beach I cruised down and past Reedsport to the William M. Tugman Park and stayed there for 2 nights. Again I took the bike and did a loop down some hard top forestry roads via Sulphur Springs to Crow and then back via Lorane and then onto Hwy 99 back to camp. The roads were decent overall considering they are basically logging roads. The trees grew right up to the roads edge so over all there wasn’t a lot to see until it opened up around Lorane. Around Lorane there is a lot of pretty country side and small farms.

I have noticed some possible slippage on my bikes clutch so this has me a little concerned. The weather has been getting a little cooler and I find myself putting on a sweater at night.

I arrived in Canyonville on Saturday night and found there is a casino in town just waiting to take my money. I started the Saturday evening with the shower, shave, and shine my boots routine but I found myself needing the pass-code for the shower. That’s when I met Mylan from Nevada… Him and his big cowboy hat came from around the corner, and with what I guess is a Nevada cowboy accent he says ‘I recon you’ll be needin the code to get in that there shaer! Two, fave, Three.’ I thanked him and went about my shaer. Once cleaned up I went and introduced myself to Mylan and his wife Ivona. They were very nice and had quite an interesting story to tell. Mylan would be about 25 years old, my height, and maybe 140 lbs soaking wet. He was very polite, optimistic, and a true delight to listen to. His cute Hispanic wife was about 5 months pregnant and they were both sleeping in a nylon tent on the ground for the past couple of weeks. They had been staying in camp while he found some work in the area. He found part time work with the police force and has volunteered at the fire hall as well. He was hard core cowboy (straight out of the book ‘Lonesome Dove’) with belt buckle, bow legs and chewing tobacco. Before coming to Oregon he was a cattle hand in Nevada and drove 3000 head of cattle from one state to the other on his horse and with his guns. You see; Mylan says ‘I couldn’t live without my guns!’ He has a concealed weapons permit, a hand gun in the tent, and a Winchester in the truck, he packs his own load, and shoots a lot of his own food. I felt safer knowing he was in camp. He even shot a bear right between the eyes with his 44 one time. I could probably use him right about now… actually I think the bear is gone! Anyhow, I headed down to the casino and sat at the blackjack table until 1:30 in the morning. I actually left $25 up. We had a fun table on the most part. One miserable old fart sits down, learns I am from Canada, and went on to tell me ‘The biggest prick I ever met was from Canada!’ he continues ‘ And you look like a pussy!’ What do you say to something like that? I thought ‘Wow, he’s 50 years old and doesn’t know what pussy looks like!’ That boy needs to get out of his cabin! I didn’t feel singled out though. He managed to insult everyone at the table in less time than it took him to lose all his money. I wanted to dress him up as a bear and send him back to camp.

I did 2 rides out of Canyonville and both were spectacular. The roads were great and the scenery was amazing. The clutch continues to slip when I roll on the throttle and I will have to stop in Medford to see what can be done about it. It sounds like a $500++ bill to me.

I’ll head to Medford today and then I will check out the Shakespearean theatre in Ashland for the following day. I will try to get my ass to California the day after.

Feeling the Blues in Astoria

I had only planned on staying the night, taking a day ride, and then heading out, but I found myself staying in Astoria right through the weekend. My first day staying at the Fort Stevens State Park was spent trying to get my damn fridge to cool less than ambient minus 3 degrees on gas (piece if chit!), repairing my mountain bike and establishing camp… not too exciting. After the bike repairs I pedaled down to the Fort Stevens military museum, down to the wreck of the ‘Peter Iredale’, and then back to camp.

After breakfast the next morning I did a 200km loop from Astoria east via Jewel, Mist, Vernonia, and then into Cannon Beach for lunch. The road had some great twisty sections but the asphalt was quite poor in a lot of sections. My greatest discovery is when I picked up the local ‘West Coast Entertainment Weekly’ paper (or whatever) and found there was a ‘Blues by the Sea’ festival happening on Friday and Saturday at the Clatsop fairgrounds. I bought myself a weekend pass, did my laundry, shaved, showered, and showed up. What an awesome time! I purchased the pass the day before but they didn’t have the tickets with them, so they promised to remember me the next day. I thought I would have to do a song and dance but I was meet with an eager ‘Hey, you’re Brian Cole right? We have your pass here!’ I felt like a movie star! We had a few laughs and then I breezed in. I quickly realized that I had the start time screwed up and I was there way too early. They grounds were still being setup and it was pretty quite so I decided to go for a run. I returned later in the day to find the place buzzing and the bands rockin! Everyone knew everyone and I somehow found myself sitting with Craig and Inka by their hippy van (a van with some stories I am sure!). A fella (and event organizer as it turns out) that goes by the stage name ‘Honey Bucket’ (it’s kinda of a nasty, but funny, story behind the name) from the opening act shows up and it was a good thing it was early, because I wasn’t going anywhere soon! I thanked them and then moved into the crowd of partiers swaying to the music. The next thing you know ‘Hey, I am Dave, this Mike and Anthony. Would you like a beer! And here, have a sandwich!’ I declined the sandwich and I gladly accepted the beer. These guys were a magnet to everyone around them. They introduced me to everyone within 5 meters of them and then we partied with everyone all weekend! We partied with the bands, we meet the promoters, we partied with their friends, a couple from Israel… people from all over! Jody and the girls wanted to dance and the music was perfect for it. What could I do… I got into the groove! The show at the fairgrounds shut down at some time (I am not sure of the time actually) and then we headed downtown for a jam session at the ‘Astoria Events Center’ and it was just as crazy! I was riding, so I wasn’t drinking, but it felt like I was high all night. Maybe it was the coffee but I don’t think so! By the end of the night I had drunk about 5 cups of the stuff but I saw later that about 2 of those got spilled all over my shirt. They are advantages to drinking tequila but that will have to wait until tomorrow! The bar shut down around 3:00 a.m. and half way back to camp it started to pour. I rode in the rain and was absolutely soaked by the time I got back to camp a mere 10 minutes later. It felt good! I was glad that I wasn’t getting into a tent!

Heading down the next day I thought ‘How can I possibly top a night like last night?’ As it turned out it was like the first night didn’t really end and it just flowed into Saturday. The bands were amazing and it seemed like everyone came back with an even crazier attitude! I had discovered a shuttle to town from the night before so I brought a sack of beer that paled in comparison to what the crew from Virginia showed up with. Anthony was good enough to get us to the Jam session safely. We got to dance on a level dance floor for a few more hours before I caught a cab back to camp. I woke up early the next morning, picked up the bike, and took an early walking tour of towns waterfront before we all meet up for breakfast and a final farewell and exchange of contact information. I slipped out before noon and went for some Tillamook ice cream, watched some surfing, and set up a ½ camp (left the roof down and the gear in the Thule) in Pacific City so I could make some miles the next morning. I didn’t get very far… South Beach actually. My neighbors brought me a couple of Dungeness crabs tonight and here I am. Crab, rib steak, roasted peppers, baked potatoes with onion and good ol’ Canadian whiskey rounded off my evening. I have planned a day ride tomorrow and will head out the day after. It seems like my 2 day plans are taking 3-5 days to complete. I think that’s a good thing…

On my own and heading south!

Sorry, it’s been too long… It’s Sunday, September 13th.

Can I blame it on family, friends, and funerals???? If not, I’ll just say I have been really busy. After leaving Rick and Sue’s place (5 weeks ago) I have put over 6,000 km on the bike, been to 2 funerals, 1 stag party, 1 wedding, and one heckova labour day party. The only problem is that I have only traveled as far as Keslo Washington. I am already losing track of the date and I have a sense that I need to be putting on some miles. I’ll have to be careful not to spend too much time on the interstates in my mad dash south.

My Aunt Edith on my dad’s side and my Aunt Kay on my mom’s side both passed away recently and I was fortunate to still be in Canada so I could attend the funerals and see a lot of family that I haven’t for a while. It seems the deaths in the family have been coming far too frequently lately and it re-enforces my desire to ‘do it while I can’. I have completed three overnight bike trips included a loop via Grand Prairie, blasted all around the Kootneys in B.C., and took a leisurely trip to Montana’s ‘Road to the Sun’. Most of my time the past few weeks has been spent in Alberta with my Dad camping, fishing, and generally hanging out. Despite what Dad may say, I out-fished him by a lot. Did I say a lot… I mean a whole lot J. Sorry Dad, I have to rub it in!
Now that I am on my own it has given me the sense that my trip has truly started. Living in the van is like being in a space capsule. While it can be quite efficient, there is a place for everything and just a little laziness can lead to chaos and disarray. I have done a fairly good job prepping as everything I need I seem to have, and I haven’t had to throw out much stuff yet.

I have met some nice people with my most interesting experience being in Vancouver… I was hanging out at Starbucks while I waited for a major service to be completed on my bike. I sat at a table with a couple of extra chairs and pulled out my book. Two attractive young ladies sat down at a nearby table that only had 1 chair and they fumbled while trying to move another chair. I took a spare chair next to me and handed over the rail and sat it down for them. The flirting immediately started in earnest… ‘’ You are such a gentleman.’ I just smiled and replied ‘Thanks’ and went back to my book. It continued, ‘That was really nice. Are you from around here?’ I decide to play the game and told a little about myself and the adventure I was on. It continued ‘Are you going to be around this weekend because me and some of my friends are going to a fetish party and I sure would like you to come.’ I had to chuckle a bit. Out came the camera phone ‘Do you want to see some pictures of me in my latex batwomen outfit that I wore to the last party?’ It’s frustrating! This sounds great I am sure, but damn; this type of thing has happened to me before… two pretty girls sit down near to me, and it has to be the gay guy at the next table that flirts with me! I don’t get it???? He even gave me his email address incase I should ‘make it back this way’, and I swear he tried to wiggle as he walked away. There may be some hope yet as he did say he was going with a group of girls. I am not sure what that meant. What would I do if he was the prettiest one? I didn’t want to think about it so I picked up the bike and left town.

Tomorrow I will ride up the West side road going up Mt. Saint Helens. I will stay one more night and head towards Astoria on the Oregon border. From there I will explore the area on my bike for a couple of days before heading south on the 101. I have decided to put off getting a new phone until I get to Mexico as I think the phone + the fees for my time in the USA would exceed the roaming costs on my existing phone.

An older couple in the next camp site has asked me to join them by their fire tonight so I think I will sign off for now. I sure hope they are normal.

Slip out the back Jack...

I felt a little badly leaving the pub earlyish on the last day of work, but I had to before it became a late night that saw me doing my first camp out in the pub parking lot. I got home only to spend the rest of the night preparing for the motley crew that showed up early the next morning to get me moved. Jeff, Pernell, and Rick showed up to do the heavy stuff and Selena and Leslie removed all evidence that anyone had ever been in the house. With only my travel stuff spread out on the floor it almost looked like a scene from a Bourne movie... laptop, GPS, clothing, gear, whiskey... After a couple of follow up days around the house I headed north on the bike to Rick and Sue's. The weather is hot!!! Ignoring my score, it was a perfect day for the front 9 @ the Athabasca golf course. Tomorrow should be a great day for water skiing!

We survived!

The 'POD' showed up. I will spend the week filling it up! I just need to calibrate the transporter magnaflux stabilizer! I need a techie... or at least a furniture mover or three! (Just kidding)

4 Men on Bikes!

Pernell, Jeff, Kyle, and myself set off on what I consider the inaugural trip of my travelling adventure with a motorcycle tour on 3 BMW's and a Honda that went as far south as Cresent City California. We put the youngest kid on the fastest bike and tore up the pavement in B.C., Washington, Oregon, and even one in Northern California. We went south from Vernon on the West Side Rd. to Kelowna. From Kelowna we took the 93 via the 'Cassey Camp', Osoyoos and finally to Winthrop for the night. We were lucky to get a meal as the neat old town was shut down by 9:30. I am tired. More later... It's later... We went from Winthrop to Seattle and stayed on the ocean front. We aren't all of legal age so we had a relatively early night... honest! From Seattle we went to Cannon Beach via an awesome highway over the mountain to Cannon Beach where we arrived for the 4th of July. Peter... go on this road with a sport bike! From Cannon Beach we travelled down the Oregon coast on 101 to Coos Bay. From there Kyle and Jeff hit the dunes in buggies and Pernell and I continued down the coast to the Redwood National Park in Northern California. The plan was to unite at Crater Lake but due to communication issues we missed each other by 300 km's and a full day. We all met up in Yakima after a long days ride. Crater Lake was very impressive, very blue, very deep, very steep cliffs on the side of the road! Oh yeah... no speeding tickets yet... Jeff took the lead on the way home through Washington and bam... red and blues... the cop says 'There was not one bike doing less than 86 and one was doing 94... do you have any idea what the speed limit is?" My GPS has a speed limit display in km/hr so I quickly answered "96!" I could see it in his body language... "Ahh, Canadians, I'm to tired."... he says "You know the lecture... Slow down!" He let us go! Jeff actually did slow down all the way to the county line. It was impressive to see! From the line we hauled ass all the way to Creston B.C. The next day Pernell split off to the Columbia ice fields, Jeff and Kyle stayed in Cochrane before heading north on 22, and I stayed in Calgary before returning to Edmonton on Friday July 10th. In all we travelled about 5000 km in 11 days. It's time for an oil change. I think I wore the rear tire by no more than 40%. The bike ran like a top but the GPS gave me grief with untimely resets. 2 hard stops for deer, saw 1 huge black bear, 0 traffic or criminal violations, 0 sightings of hot chicks on bikes, o hang overs. My assignment for next trip is to correlate between hang-overs and sightings of hot chicks on bikes.