Post 164: Las Vegas, Nevada

It's 9am on Tuesday 30th September, I'm at the $29.99 motel and I've just over $100 that 24 hours ago I didn't have. The motel is paid for a second night, I've eaten well, ... and I'm still $100 richer. I had better explain how this all came about.

Two nights ago I was riding up and down 'The Strip', everywhere that I stopped small crowds gathered. Mostly it's people asking me questions about Poor Circulation and taking photographs of the bike, sometimes it's irate concierges trying to move me along, .... trying to prevent me from soiling their otherwise pristine hotel entrances. The people all seem to know about 'Long Way Round', for some reason they think that Ewan and Charlie are 'Brothers', .. perhaps they just feel that 'Brothers' is a cool term to use. It's fun talking with them but I'm repeating the same things time after time, ... after time. Eventually, I abandoned the bike and walked the same route on foot. Up and down Las Vegas Boulevard there are 'Agents' trying to sell you things, ..... Girls, Shows, Dream Car Rentals, Grand Canyon Tours, it becomes annoying, .... too many Agents chasing too few interested customers, .... the people walk on and ignore them. I met Jerry, an expatriate from Birmingham, an 'Agent' selling 'Same Day Tickets' for the big Vegas shows, a guy who talks for a living, a guy who could charm even the devil himself. We laugh and talk for a while, he makes me an offer, ...... he pitches the 'offer' as if he's doing me a favour though I suspect that Jerry himself is the only beneficiary of any 'favours' that he does. In any other place, I probably would have declined his offer, but this is Las Vegas, .... Las Vegas is not like 'other places', ... I accept.

On Monday morning, I spent two hours under the baking sun, dressed in full leathers, standing alongside the bike, ...... talking to people, ... potential customers for Jerry. He'd gained himself a stationary audience, Jerry now had an advantage over the other guys. He'd seen what had happened the previous evening when I'd parked close to him on the bike, .. he'd spotted an opportunity, ...... he was now paying me handsomely for standing in the sunshine. At noon, our arrangement ended, .... he gave me the $50 as promised and an extra $10 based on his 'success', .... I now had my 'Stake'.

Roulette, .. I'd only played once before, I'm not a gambler in any way shape or form. However, I knew that if I stuck to certain rigid rules, and avoided getting greedy, my chances of making a little money were good. I buy 'chips' and I stand and watch, I wait until the ball lands in 'Black' twice in a row, ... I then place $5 on 'Red'. After what feels like an eternity, ... the ball lands, .. jumps,.. bobbles,.... and eventually settles in 'Red', .... my $5 back to me and $5 winnings. I move tables and watch again, ... two consecutive balls in 'Black', .... I place $5 on 'Red'. It lands in 'Black', ... $5 lost. I place $10 on 'Red', .... it lands in 'Red', ... $10 back and $10 winnings,.. $5 net gain. I move back to the first table, watch and then repeat the process, ... I allow myself two visits to each of the two tables in that one casino. I leave that first casino with an extra $20 in my pocket, $80 in total. By 2pm, I've eaten lunch, retrieved my bike and checked into the motel, ..... yes I've won some more money, .. but I honestly haven't enjoyed it.

Yesterday I'd hoped to make an extra $200/$250, ..... but by the evening I'd changed my mind, I didn't like what I was doing, I settled with what I already had. The casino's were hardly crying about my winnings, Jerry would not have paid me if it hadn't been profitable for him and his customers got to see the 'Big Shows' at below ticket prices. It just wasn't 'fun' and I didn't want to risk what I already had, I decided to quit while I was ahead, .. Las Vegas was not my kind of place. The system that I used is called the 'Martindale System', a system of doubling bets after a loss, .. it's not even close to being 'fool proof', .. the Casino will always Win in the end. I think I just wanted to set myself a challenge, a challenge that had nothing to do with riding a motorbike, ..... I just wanted to see if certain things were possible. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I've done it and Las Vegas has turned out to be a 'Free Stay'. I was lucky, ..... I won, but it's something that I have no desire to repeat.

Tomorrow I will ride to the Grand Canyon, .... then onwards to Bryce Canyon and possibly down into New Mexico, ..... I should be smiling again by then. I'll probably be away from the Internet, ... but I will keep out of trouble,.. I think.

www.justgiving.com/poorcirculation

Post 163: Las Vegas, Nevada

Last night I arrived in Las Vegas, I rode up and down the 'Strip', I then secured the bike and walked the same route again, ... Las Vegas is geographically speaking, not as big as I'd expected. I should hate this place, I'm not a 'city person' and the attractions here are things that I generally take time to avoid. However, .... there is something about this place, it is vulgar, .... but it wears it's vulgarity proudly, .. it screams of excess, ... but in a very sureal 'Disney' kind of way. I didn't visit Los Angeles, ... but surely Las Vegas is the real 'Tinsel Town'? There is also a familiarity about this place, ..... the names shining bright in neon are all familiar, 'Cesar's Palace, Harrah's, Trump, Flamingo, MGM Grand, Casino Royale', ..... riding through America does actually feel like being on the worlds largest movie set.
I gather information, I take notes and watch how the systems operate, .... I check the number of roulette wheels and the number of casino's where I feel my limited wardrobe will allow access, ...... it's 2am, ..... it feels like 'rush-hour', the Strip is alive, .. perhaps it always is. I ride out to Dean Martin Drive, I've spotted a safe location for the night, away from prying eyes, enough room for the bivi bag and the bike behind a large skip on a vacant plot. I don't really sleep,.. but I do an awful lot of thinking.
By morning, my plan is set, I've checked the mathematics and there is no real reason, .... other than human interference, that should stop it from working. I've decided that the $100 that I'd originally intended to place on 'Red' at Cesar's Palace is far too large a risk, ..... my preferred stake is $0, ... I've found a way. At 10am on Monday 29th September, I begin my quest to turn Las Vegas into a 'Free Stay'.
It is now 2pm on Monday 29th of September, I'm in a motel room, $29:99 per night paid in cash, I've already eaten a nice lunch at a restaurant on 'The Strip' and I've just over $52 in my 'Day Pocket'. This morning at 10am when I left my improvised campground, .... that pocket had been empty, I carried with me not a single cent. This evening, with a change of clothing, and hopefully a change of personnel at the various casino's, I intend to grow that $52 into $250. That amount of money pays for an extra 5 days on the road, ..... if I can repeat this in Atlantic City, .... then Poor Circulation will be back on budget. Don't worry, I'm not gambling with money, I've used no money and spent none of my own money here, this is a 'No Risk' adventure, ...... it simply takes time and patience to accomplish, ... two things that I have in abundance.
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Post 162: Death Valley, California

It's Sunday 28th September and prior to today I'd known very little about Death Valley. I expected a very dry and intense heat, a long arrow-straight road, ... and for some reason I had in my mind the picture of one single tree!. Death Valley was a place that I had to cross for two reasons, .... it's name, .... and the fact that it stood between Mt Whitney and Las Vegas.

It was hot and it was dry, but the roads were anything but straight. I'd started early, it was just over 140 miles along 'Highway 190' to the beginning of Death Valley, ... I arrived just before 9am, ..... already the temperature was in the high 90's. I was riding 'al fresco', tee shirt and shorts, my English skin smothered in SPF25, ..... I hoped that would be enough. As I moved, the temperature was just bearable, .. when I stopped it became overpowering. I'd filled up with fuel and water at the entrance, I was ready to explore.

I followed '178' to Furnace Creek and then headed South at the foot of the Amargosa Range of mountains where I then had a choice of routes: East or West. I decided to take the East fork to Badwater Basin, at -282ft, the lowest point in Continental America. The road was unpaved and although dusty, it was easily manageable. The scenery was breathtaking, not at all what I'd expected. The mountains to either side of the valley floor seemed to change colour according to which direction you were facing, ..... I know this, because at the end of this road which headed South, I turned the bike around and rode it back North, .. it was equally satisfying in both directions. I then rode down the West side of the valley,.. a paved road, equally stunning, ...... the tarmac making it easier to 'view' and 'ride' in unison.

I stopped at the opposite side of Badwater Basin to cool down and take photographs. There were four cars in the small car park, .... the heaviest density of population that I'd encountered all day. One of the cars, a red Pontiac, sported a fading bumper sticker, 'When Keeping it Red goes Wrong: BUSH CHENEY'04'. I chuckled at the location, ...... I'd been reliably informed before departure that America didn't do 'Irony'.

Yosemite had been beautiful, Lassen magnificent and Kings Canyon tranquil, .. Death valley was different, .. it was harsh and unkind, but in a way, it's the most amazing place that I've seen on this journey so far. People will disagree with me, perhaps it's a 'Boy Thing', but for me personally, Death valley has been a true revelation, an unforgettable experience.

It had been a hot 400 mile day, the sun was beginning to set as I left the valley and headed East towards Las Vegas. It was an easy ride, the roads wide and forgiving. It gave me time to think, .... a plan was beginning to develop. I struggled with the mental mathematics as the lights of the City began to obscure the array of stars above me, ......... could I stay in Las Vegas for FREE?

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Post 161: Mount Whitney, California

I said that I'd be in Death Valley today, .. and that had certainly been my intention. It once again came down to a question of choice. I'd been reliably informed by local experts that Mount Whitney was the highest point in Continental America, 14,400 feet, I'd heard that is was beautiful, ... I heard that if I'd ever seen a Western Movie, then I'd recognise it instantly.

I'd always assumed that the backdrops to such movies were unreal, ..... that they'd been produced by man, ..... that they were always just a little too perfect. Well, welcome to 'Movie Flats', the area where Bonanza, The Lone Ranger, Gunga Din and many other famous TV programmes and movies were made, .. welcome to the picture perfect backdrop. It is almost as if an eight year old child had been given a selection of paints and brushes and asked to produce what he or she believed to be the most perfect examples of trees, mountains, lakes and tracks. Lassen had been stunning, Yosemite had been overpowering, .... but this mountain that I admittedly had never before heard of, ... simply overshadowed everything else. Mount Whitney, ... mark it on your map.

In Death Valley I'll visit the lowest point in Continental America, for the sake of the Tiger, I hope that it's easier on the bike than the highest point. I think that the road climbs to around 9,000 feet and for me, that is where my climb ended. My body is still suffering from yesterdays fall,.. at my age it takes longer to recover, ... I stayed on the paved roads today. The Tiger was overheating, it had lost power, .... it was beginning to smell like a scorched microwave meal. I let the bike cool and analysed the situation. Eventually I came to the only possible conclusion as to why this otherwise 100% reliable motorcycle was now failing me, ..... it had to be something that I myself had done to it. Sure enough, I found the problem, ..... my fault totally.

In Boonville I'd fitted a length of drainage pipe across the front of the engine bars just below the oil cooler. It fitted perfectly and contained the tools that I would only need for serious repairs. Unfortunately, the piping was deflecting the air 'away' from the oil cooler and not 'into' it, ..... thus causing the overheating. The burning smell was indeed burning, .... plastic drainage pipe has a melting point far lower than that of a Triumph engine. I solved the problem and rearranged my packing accordingly. I've now returned to the spot where I camped last night, the setting sun is just as amazing, the temperature just as warm, .. but tomorrow will definitely be Death Valley.

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Post 160: Sherman Peak, California

Today is my daughters 14th birthday, .. Happy Birthday Hannah. I tried to telephone her last night (Saturday morning UK), .... the number didn't work. I've been sending her SMS messages since Seattle, I wondered why I'd had no replies,.. now I know, ... it's not just because she's a 'teenager'.

I'd expected to arrive in Death Valley today, .... perhaps I'd expect too much. Once again it's the American problem of 'Choice'. I was cutting through the Sequoia National Forest, .. and I turned left. I found a road, ... a road that had a surface more Russian than American, but a road that gave spectacular views as it climbed to 9,909ft, ..... Sherman Peak. As you climb on this twisting road, the density of forest thins, the temperature drops considerably and sandy trails begin to appear. I ventured onto some of these trails, but only the ones that looked gentle.

This is an area for serious 'Off-Roading', and even today, a Friday long after Labour Day, the adventurers were out in force. Mostly on 'Crossers', some on 'ATV's', some in 4x4's, .... but all wearing smiles. Exiting one such trail, I came across 12 KTM640's, an adventure riding school, ... I follow them for several miles, ..... they seemed a little bemused to see a loaded tourer behind them. Thankfully when the time came to drop the bulky Triumph in the deepening sand of a not so gentle trail, .... they were well out of sight. Unfortunately, although my blushes were saved, I had to pick the bike up by myself. Luggage off, jacket off, .... drink water, .... long log for leverage, .... eventually it was upright. Luggage re-fitted, jacket back on,.. more water, ... away I go. No damage to the bike, soft sand is gentle on steel, ... but I now have two fingers are strapped together, thankfully my right hand. I've had this happen before, I think it's a 'dislocation - relocation' thing. It hurts like hell when I move, but it hurts like hell when I don't move, ..... so I'll keep on moving.

I spent the night camping in what I would call 'Desert' but what the map calls something else, ... 'The China Lake Naval Weapons Centre'. It's quite desolate but in a beautiful way,.. the sunrise was one of the finest and last nights sky was one of the largest that I've ever seen. It's a strange thing about America, ... I'm in the middle of nowhere, ... and I'm getting full strength WiFi signal. Tomorrow,.. Death Valley.

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Post 159: Kings Canyon & Sequoia National Parks

Today I'm told is Friday 26th September, it feels a lot earlier than that but I'll take their word for it. For two days and nights I've been exploring Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks, ... probably my last destinations in California, ... a State which seems to be holding onto me. They were both beautiful, they're American National Parks, .. they should be.

I meet the Lang family from Arkansas, we talk for a while. Jim the father rides a Yamaha FJR, he loves bikes and he loves touring, he hands me his cell phone number, he'd like to take me fly fishing on the White River, ... I've never fished before in my life, ..... I tell him this. His response is perfect, ..... 'you're travelling and I'm retired, ... plenty of time to learn and teach respectively'.

Last night I ate in a small 'Diner', the television was on but the Diner was empty, .. perhaps people here are feeling the economic squeeze, .... perhaps it was just a bad place to eat. I watch a news broadcast, .... Sarah Palin is running for Vice President of the worlds largest economic and foreign power, she's explaining her 'Foreign Policy Credentials' to a female reporter. It feels like I'm watching 'Train Wreck TV', .. her career about to dive into the nearest Ocean, .... an Ocean I now feel certain she could not name . She explains hesitantly to the reporter that her expertise on Foreign Policy is based on the fact that she lives in Alaska, .. which is 'quite close to Russia, .. it's closer to Canada, .. and Mr Putin is a really bad guy'. I can't believe what I am hearing, her performance is childlike, .... 'Sarah, ..... why wasn't your history homework handed in on time?', ....... This Lady from Alaska could become the second most powerful person in the world. Perhaps when I review my list of places in the world where I would most like to live, a list that is long and growing, I might asterisk *USA, ....... 'pending the outcome of Novembers election'.

Today, I'm going to ride through Death valley and into Las Vegas, .. two places that I really want to visit. I have $100 to blow in a Vegas casino, a casino with no dress restrictions. Following the example of 'Mondo Enduro', who made this journey ten years ago, I'll place the $100 on 'Red', .... if I win, .. I sleep in a cheap Motel, ..... if I loose, .. I keep on riding.

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Post 158: Fresno, California

It's Wednesday 24th September, ..... I think, but what I do know for certain is that I'm in 'Fresno' California. Fresno sits slightly to the West on the journey between Yosemite and Kings Canyon National Parks, I didn't need to come here, I don't particularly enjoy cities, ..... but there was something about the name. I've seen it in movies, I've probably heard it mentioned in songs, and when the road junction gave me three choices, .... the name 'Fresno' drew me in.

On the way down from Yosemite, I stopped for breakfast in the small town of Midpines, ... or was it Mariposa? In the car park of the diner, I began talking with a retired couple from Florida, .. their names I have unfortunately forgotten. They had seen me at Lake Tahoe and then again on my first night in Yosemite. They've sold their home and are now travelling around this huge country in an RV, .... sadly for me, this means that I'm now moving no faster through America than a small house on wheels. We talked for several minutes, more people joined the conversation, a small crowd formed around us, .... it reminded me of the 'coffee stops' that we'd enjoyed whilst travelling across Russia. The couple moved on, ... the small gathering dwindled and eventually, ... I moved on too.

In the town of Oakhurst, I stopped for fuel and was approached by Michael, a retired US Marine who'd heard part of the conversation back at the Diner. We shared coffee and talked about travelling, ...... I listened as he talked about Korea and Vietnam, we talked together about Kuwait and Iraq, .....we talked about conflict. Michael's travelling days were over, he's been to many places, he's seen many amazing and frightening things, .... we talked for over an hour. At the end of that conversation he'd decided that it was time to revisit parts of the world that he'd not seen for a very long time, that he hadn't seen in an environment of peace, .... time to rekindle friendships that had lapsed over the years, ..... to return to the Far East and to see just how things had changed, to go there this time with his camera and not his M16.

As we were about to part company, Michael went to the glove compartment of his car, .... he returned with a slip of paper and a $50 bill. The slip of paper was a 'Discount Coupon' for an independent motel in Fresno, .... the $50 bill was for the tariff, including tax. I haven't stayed at a campground with showers since leaving Boonville, ... 5 days, 6 days? ...... I honestly can't remember. To Michael, I say 'Thank You', and 'Happy Travelling'. Until I'd arrived and settled into the small Motel just on the right side of the tracks here in Fresno, I hadn't realised just how tired and dirty I was.

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Post 157: Yosemitie National Park, California

Mono Lake had been beautiful, but with no disrespect to the lake or to the area, it was simply an appetizer for what was to follow. From the small hamlet of Lee Vinning, I turned right onto Highway 120, …… signposted ‘Yosemite’, and began to climb, .. and climb. I could hear the theme tunes from great Western’s playing in my mind, .. around each corner there was another scene to stop and admire, to photograph and to savour. This was just the approach road, Yosemite was still sixteen miles ahead of me.

At the entrance to the National Park, I was waved through, my ‘America The Beautiful’ sticker on the front of the Tiger allowing me immediate access, ….. no photo ID required today. The roads were quiet, it was close to 11am, .. altitude 7,000 feet and climbing, a cloudless sky, strong winds, …. it was cold but that mattered little, every sense was being simultaneously entertained by the environment. Many images of Yosemite appear on the Web, mostly taken by photographers far more accomplished than I, take a look, .. I could never even begin to describe just how beautiful and overpowering this area is.

I spend the day riding every road in the Park, stopping to brew coffee and to talk with other bikers. I meet eleven BMW riders from Finland riding from Alaska to Argentina, fourteen Scottish riders on rental Harley’s, out in California to celebrate a friends 50th birthday, ….. what a way to celebrate. Amongst the group are policemen from the West Lothian Force, .. they’re riding ahead of me in a group, ….. the lead rider is pulled over for speeding. Perhaps it was a case of international camaraderie between colleagues, or perhaps the Highway Patrol Officer simply disliked the thought of a lengthy paperwork procedure, … he continued with no more than a caution.

My day ends in Yosemite Village, ’Upper Pines Campground’. It’s a warm evening, I don’t bother with the usual campfire, …. I cook pasta on the Coleman Primus and drink ice cold beers from my remarkably well insulated topbox. I turn on my cell phone and get a full signal, …. it rings. A conversation with my Brother and then a long message from the beautiful Nurse Wipa Klampeng in Thailand. I listen to the message for a third time and watch as the setting sun turns the smooth face of the rocks the deepest shade of orange, ….. I’ve certainly spent the night in worse places.

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Post 156: Lake Tahoe, California

‘Muriel plays piano, … every Friday at the Hollywood, and they brought me down to see her, .... and they asked me if I would, …… play a little number and I sang for all my might, ….. She said Son are you a Christian child, …… I said, ..... Ma’am I am tonight’.

Maybe these sort of things only happen to me, .. perhaps I’m cursed, or blessed, … depending on your perspective. It'd been another long day on the bike, heading down from Clear lake to Lake Tahoe, … taking the scenic route. It was almost dark when I found the campground, … 7,000 feet, .. already cold.

Muriel and Mark, not their real names, were on the site next to mine, … they had no firewood, ….. could they share mine?. We shared food, beer and the warmth of the fire as we each told our stories. At first I guessed that they were father and daughter, ... that Muriel had inherited her looks from her Mother, ... but I was wrong. Mark was from Los Angeles, by day an engineer, by night a musician, ….. the engineering firm had dispensed with his services, … he was now just an out of work musician. By night, Muriel played piano behind Mark, by day she seemed to attend casting sessions for movies, television, radio, commercials, … I’m not sure which, .. perhaps all of them, ... they'd been 'together' for almost a year.

We laughed and joked together, we watched a small meteor shower in the night sky above as they played their guitars and sang beautifully, .. everything from Dylan to Dido. All in all, it could have been another perfect evening in California. I learned that they were disillusioned with life in LA, they’d run away from their rented apartment and hit the road in an old car belonging to Muriel’s father. They intended to travel until they found their ‘spiritual home’. Although they were fun to be with, they seemed like an amazingly mismatched couple, not just in their ages, ….. everything about them seemed to be contradictory, ….. I’d quickly realised that Mark was intent on finding his spiritual home in a bottle of Jack Daniels and a small ceramic pipe, … I stayed with my beer.

As the evening progressed and the Jack Daniels disappeared, Mark became the kind of drinker that I thought I’d left behind me in England, ….. the ’Aggressive Drunk’. It was probably no more than 5 minutes between his drunken mutterings of; ’Your Great’ and ’Your Going to Die’. I was sober, Mark was too obvious, I saw it coming, …. perhaps because I’m small he thought I’d be easy, … I am, … but I’m not. Altercation over within five seconds, Mark sleeping inside his tent within five minutes, .. Muriel trying to climb into my tent within the hour.

Tempting as it might have been, I strongly declined Muriel’s kind offers of comfort and warmth, …… it was Mark who needed the attention and I certainly didn’t need the trouble. I broke camp early and headed south, …. as quietly as possible, .. next stop Yosemite National Park.

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Post 155: Gold Rush Country, Northern California

I’d spent the night at Soda Bay on Clear lake, the previous day had been a long one. The roads out of Covelo and through the Mendocino National Forest had been unpaved, rough in parts, …. manageable but tiring. I can only guess at how many miles I’d covered, ….. no sooner had I posted a brief history of how reliable the Triumph had been when the speedometer stops working. At least the condition of the roads avoided any dangers of not keeping within the speed limits.

It was Friday 19th September, I was heading in the general direction of Lake Tahoe along Highway 20, …. I stopped for fuel in Nevada City and was accosted by Roger. Roger is Californian, he worked in special effects for the movie industry, .. he drops names like they were my friends too, some I recognised, some I didn’t. He wouldn’t stop talking, his enthusiasm for motorcycles and the local roads was unbounded, the line of cars wishing to use the pumps was growing, …. the cashier eventually came onto the forecourt with my change, a not too subtle hint to move on.

Armed with new information, I changed my plan and headed up State highway 49. It was a great road, …. it took me into ’Gold Rush Country’ and thanks to Roger, it pointed me in the direction of some non-tourist attractions. The Sierra Nevada was the place to be back in 1849 when the prospectors came in search of their fortunes. Thus, they became known as ’49ers’ and the naming of the road, which clearly didn’t exist back in 1849, … came later. Every few miles, Gold Towns and Ghost Towns straddle the road and tracks and I eventually arrived in Downieville. If ever a town had been lifted straight from the movies, then this is it. The narrow streets are lined with old wooden properties, each with a porch and walkway, …. I could swear that even the bar had swinging louvered half doors and a place to tie up the bike. I’d parked the bike and wandered around taking photographs when I met Dan. Dan lives in Sacramento but has a weekend retreat here. We talked for a few minutes and then he simply thanked me for the talk, thanked me for visiting Downieville, ….. and handed me a $100 bill for St Teresa’s Hospice. Henceforth, the name ’Downieville Dan’ will be written on the Tiger along with all of the other donors, ….. Thank You.

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