Discovering the world on $20 per day ......................




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.
www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

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?

www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Post 154: Searching for Jupiter, Northern California


On my last visit to Boonville; Thanksgiving 2007, I’d learned from the local plumber that Ted Simon had settled in the Anderson Valley, ….. unfortunately he knew not where. Last week when I was interviewed by Mark and Bruce from the Anderson Valley Advertiser, as the name ‘Ted Simon’ slipped from my mouth they both pointed in the same direction, …. North East.
Covelo: Population 1175, Elevation 1398. I’d been warned about the people of Covelo, I was told that it sat in a valley, …. it was a place that was disconnected from society, it was a lawless kind of town. These warnings were no different to those received on a national basis whilst heading down through the Balkans, …. and proved to be every bit as inaccurate. Covelo does indeed rest within a valley, it may or may not have a resident sheriff, the local population may or may not stretch the limit of ‘6 plants for medicinal purposes’ rule, ….. but it certainly didn’t strike me as being ’lawless’. Perhaps it is a town that has seen more affluent times, perhaps parts of the high street are more ’shabby’ than ’chic’, …. but I found it to be just as friendly as anywhere else in Northern California. Covelo isn’t a ‘Pretty Town‘ but towns like this serve a purpose, they are a central meeting point for the wider community and the place where all necessary services are provided; schools, markets, post office, fire department etc. The paint might be peeling from some of the store fronts and the hotel may temporarily be closed, …. but Covelo and the surrounding areas look fine to me.
Unfortunately I was unable to make contact with Ted Simon, .. perhaps that will happen on my next visit, …. but having ridden into town from the West, and exited across the mountains to the East, …. I can fully understand how a traveller like Ted Simon could call this place home. Covelo was in fact, … quite beautiful.

Post 153: Triumph Tiger 955i

 
For those of you who have little interest in bikes, ... then you may like to skip this post. I've been asked in several emails to let people know exactly what problems I've encountered with the bike over the last 20,000 miles, ...... but it is a short list.
1. Chain Guard. The guard snapped during the fitting of new tyres in Volgograd. It was 'fixed' but then snapped again. It has now been fixed more securely using a metal bracket found on an old air conditioning unit in Vladivostok.
2. Headlight Bulb. One 'Dip Beam' element blew in Eastern Russia. Both bulbs were replaced using free spares provided by triumph-online.co.uk
3. Clutch Cable. The original cable snapped just south of Irkutsk. The inner cable had been suspect since the time of purchase, ..... but I'd been too lazy to replace it.
4. Battery. The original battery had been on the bike when I'd purchased it, but the bike had been standing unused for almost a year. This was replaced after the bike failed to start at the point of departure. Embarrassing yes, ..... but 'Whites Honda' of Darlington provided a replacement battery at cost.
5. Chains & Sprockets. In Vladivostok I changed the C&S for 'DiD Gold' items, again supplied by triumph-onLine.co.uk. The original fitments had lasted 19,000 miles and I suspect would have continued to provide good service for a further 10,000. If I hadn't been carrying the replacements, ... I would not have changed.
6. Air Filter. I replaced the original air filter with a K&N item in America, 22,000 miles. It was dusty but fully serviceable and performance had not deteriorated.
7. Oil. The oil and filter were replaced prior to departure (4,000 miles) and then again in Vladivostok (18,000 miles). The oil removed was still clean and no oil had been consumed or lost.
8. Brake Pads. The pads, front and rear, were replaced prior to departure (4,000 miles). They were replaced again in Vladivostok (18,000 miles) with approximately 50% wear.
9. Tyres. The original Michelin Anakee's were replaced in Volgograd using a Pirelli Scorpion front and a Metzeler Tourance rear. These are not a good match but will probably be good for another 15,000 miles.
10. Fuel. The bike has never complained about the quality of fuel that I've used on any part of the journey. The average consumption has been just under 60mpg.
In real terms, the Tiger has been 100% reliable and far more economical than I had imagined. It has done everything asked of it and never complained, ...... it is a bike that thrives on neglect, ... a perfect match for a Courier riding around the world.

Post 152: Leaving Boonville, ..... Again



It’s almost 6am, I’m sitting in an old canvass chair watching the dawn break through the mists in the valley to the East of the house. I can hear the ‘hiss’ of the gas range in the kitchen as it slowly heats the water in the traditional kettle, …. it takes time. Three weeks ago this seemingly needless delay had infuriated me, I missed the instant gratification of the electric kettle. By now I’m used to it, ….. my body clock is tuned into Boonville time, ....... where nothing and nobody hurries.
It’s Tuesday 16th of September, my stay here in Boonville is coming to an end and in truth, it had never been my intention to stay here for this long. Northern California has a cunning way of holding onto you, it gets under your skin while your not looking, …… inch by inch it creeps up and draws you into its uniqueness. Before you’ve become aware of this onset, it’s too late, ….. it’s already become a part of you. Back in the 1970’s, Ted Simon rode through here on his Triumph, ….. at the end of that journey, ’Jupiter’s Travels’, he returned and made his home here. He now lives in the next valley, possibly less than fifty miles away. It would be nice to meet the man who inspired me as a teenager, the man who is ultimately responsible for Poor Circulation, to share a drink and a few hours of his time ……. we’ll see.
The plan, .... if you can call it a 'Plan', is to head from Boonville through Yosemite, Kings Canyon, Sequoia, Grand Canyon .... down through Las Vegas and across Death Valley into Bryce Canyon. From Bryce there is an even more 'sketchy' plan to pick up old Route 66 and work my way towards the East Coast. I'd like to drop down to Mexico, ... but I'd also like to do a milion and one other things that neither time nor money (lack of) will allow. I haven't booked my 'Onwards' passage back to the UK yet, ...... and thus the above 'Plan' may be changed at any time, ...... I'll keep you posted.

Post 151: Fair & Apple Show, Northern California



September 12th to 14th, Mendeccino Fair and Apple Show, ….. it’s an annual event. For three sunny days each September, the population of Boonville swells to beyond capacity as people flock into town for the show, …. and it‘s the main reason for my return. Physically the fair is not unlike any other, it’s the atmosphere that’s so different. It’s carnival time, the people are here for a good time, they set out to enjoy themselves and enjoyment is exactly what they get. Everybody seems to know each other and everybody seems to know me. I’m introduced to strangers in a whirlwind of greetings, I forget peoples names, ….. thankfully, the people don’t seem to mind that, .. this weekend is all about fun.

On Friday afternoon, the traditional yellow buses collect the kids from school and drop them at the fairground, the parents arrive and the fun begins. They buy tickets for the rides, but if the kids have no tickets, ….. it seems to matter little, .. they ride for free, …. this is Boonville. It’s a mixture of fairground rides, agriculture. local arts and crafts. The food is local too, and plentiful, … the beer and wine the same. On Sunday lunchtime the parade along the towns main street brings the people from the fairground and onto the pavement, …. every passing float, good or bad, is cheered with the same level of enthusiasm. It lasts for thirty minutes, I watch the Veteran’s march passed leading the parade, …… followed by the Mexican riders looking splendid in their wide sombrero’s. Wes, the local architect strides past dressed as ’Uncle Sam’ on his tall stilts, …. he’s improved since his earlier practice runs in my brothers front yard. Vintage cars and vans drive slowly, passengers waving …. a local marching band, … the Fire Department with all alarms and sirens sounding, …. the Sheriff stops and throws sweets to the watching crowds, (Hearts & Minds?), …. the Anderson Valley School Band and Football Team, … ’The Panthers’.

As the last official float passes, the crowds make their way back into the fairground, ….. this afternoon is the finale of the main event, …… The Rodeo. I’ve seen it in movies, I’ve watched it on television, … I’ve even sat on a mechanical version, …. but having now seen it live and at close quarters, I have to report that ’Bull Riding’ is by far the most dangerous sport that I have ever witnessed. The bulls are big, … they look hungry and mean, … they have names such as ’The Undertaker’ and ’Rage’. The cowboys that ride them are young, ….. life expectancy dictates that this is not a sport for the elderly. For eight long seconds, if lucky, the cowboy hangs onto the bull as it bucks and weaves doing everything within it’s substantial power to throw him, … to then gorge him or trample him, …. probably both. If you’ve ever watched this ’Sport’ on television and thought to yourself, ….. ’I’d like to try that’, … then trust me, …… you really wouldn’t.

Post 150: Touring Northern California

In Lassen Park, I woke as I did every morning, just before dawn and to the campers most reliable of early morning alarm calls, .. the full bladder. I rolled over and ignored the call of nature, .. the urge would go away. It didn't, it never does, but each morning I convince myself that for some strange reason, ..... today will be different, .. it never is, .... nature always wins in the end.
Lassen had been magnificent and if that was an indication of what the other National Parks have to offer, then I am indeed a very lucky boy. Before then however, I had days to kill and a million acres of wilderness to explore. For the following week, I rode wonderful roads that were paved with beautifully smooth tarmac, scenic roads that were unpaved and sand tracks that appeared nowhere on my map but rose upwards onto mountains that looked far too inviting to miss. I climbed those mountains, I slept in forests, beside lakes and on the beaches of Norther California, always beneath black night skies that framed the most amazing array of stars that I am ever likely to see.
Crossing the Coast Ranges on an unpaved road, I encountered my first bear in daylight hours. It entered the road, bounded along and then vanished back into the forest, .... it was about 20 yards ahead of me, close enough. I was surprised at it's grace, .... the way that it moved so freely, ... it showed little interest in me, ... it had bigger fish to catch in the clear streams below. I woke to deer grazing around my tent, I watched elk feeding in the morning mist of the coastal meadows and I smelt skunk at close quarters for the first, .... and hopefully the last, time.
On many occasions I was beaten by the condition of the tracks, many times I was forced to turn back on myself, many times on these rough tracks I dropped the Tiger, ....... and many times I rode the same piece of tarmac in opposite directions, .... just to see if it was equally inspiring both ways, .... and generally it was. Now that I've had my 'wilderness adventure', I'm returning to Boonville for the annual Fair & Rodeo, .... and a shower, .... and a bed, ...... and maybe a little more of the locally brewed Boontling Beer.
www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas 

Post 149: Lassen Volcanic National Park, California


I'd like to tell you everything that I know about Lassen Volcanic National Park, ..... but as your reading this on the internet already, I suggest that 'Wikipedia' would be far more educational than I. What I will tell you is this: If you haven't already been here, then buy a ticket, steal a bike and come explore. Americans keep telling me that we English have great history, .. indeed we do, ... but I for one would gladly trade a little of our 'History' for a little of their 'Geography'. At ever corner I'm assaulted once more by 'Choice; stop and take pictures or accelerate and grind out another 'hero-blob' on the beautifully smooth tarmac,... always a difficult choice but I'm learning to compromise.

America is making me lazy, ... or the warnings of bears, rattle snakes, Lyme's disease and mountain lions is finally sinking in, .... but I stop at Manzanita Lake for a spot of 'Official Camping'. The benefit of 'Official Camping' aside from the flushing toilets and showers, is the 'Fire Ring'. Through every town in Northern California you see signs hand painted by children and adults, often placed alongside national flags, thanking the local fire fighters for their efforts and sacrifices. In these rural parts, fire fighters are 'Volunteers', and above the threat of earthquake or flood, ...... FIRE is the one danger that everybody fears and respects. Each year dozens of volunteer fire fighters give their lives protecting the lives and properties of others. The 'Fire Ring' is a circle of steel or concrete in which the happy camper builds his or her fire. Start a fire in any other place and you will be dead, ... either from the fire itself, ..... or by the actions of the enraged locals, .... be warned, the choice is yours.

In order to save money, I disregard the 'logs for sale' sign and scavenge the other abandoned fires for suitable wood. As night falls I regret my efforts at economising. I sit looking at a smouldering wreck as others enjoy the warmth and blaze of real fires. I'm camping at 8,000ft, it's cold, .. perhaps I've become too arrogant, .. if these logs didn't burn on the fires of other campers, .. then why did I for one moment think that they would on my own? Next time, .. I'll part with $6, .. and enjoy a warm evening.

www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 148: Leaving Boonville


Boonville was another very difficult place to leave, not just because of the place or the people, but because of the lifestyle there. There was the 'Pub Quiz' at the Boonville Lodge, which team Poor Circulation of course won, .... the visit to Emerald Earth, an 'Intentional Community' where I was fascinated by the ecology, the lifestyles, the hospitality and warmth of the people, ... the interview with the Anderson Valley Advertiser, .. the Whiskey Party with Mathew and Jennifer, ... the Birthday Party where I learned the intricacies and rules of 'Ranch Botchee', "Horseshoes' and 'Frisbee Golf', .. assisting Wes the intrepid stilt-walker practicing for the annual Boonville Parade, ...... like the warmth of the people here, ...... the list of activities is endless. I will be returning here on the 12th September for the Boonville Fair and Rodeo, .. though I sincerely hope not as a contestant. It will only be for three or four days, but I doubt that my second departure will be any easier than my first.

From Boonville I headed South to Healdsburg in order to meet Ron and Judy, my brothers 'In Laws' and kind donors to my chosen charity. They treated me to the best breakfast of the journey so far and before leaving, presented me with an annual pass to the American National Parks. I was beyond words, I hope that I thanked them sufficiently for everything that they've done to help, ..... but when coming face-to-face with such generosity, my words often feel inadequate.

One of the main problems here in America is 'Choice'. In every aspect of life here there is simply too much choice. In Russia, you order coffee with your breakfast, .. and coffee is exactly what you get. Here in America, order 'Coffee' and there follows a three minute conversation, .. at the end of which you may or may not get what you actually desired in the first place. Choose any aspect of life here, .... and the menu of options will be equally extensive.

And so it was, ... armed with a map, a free pass to all of the National Parks, $400 of budget and 12 days to kill, .. I left Healdsburg and headed North(ish). The choices of road and destination were endless. Within 100 square miles of Boonville I could find you a day-long 'Best Biking Road Ever', .. for each day of the week, ... possibly each day of the month, .. too much choice.

Finally I made a decision, I head through to Lake Oroville where I camp alone in the forest. It's 'Labour Day Plus 1', America has gone back to work. I drink too much beer, lay back watching the night sky a'la 'Gregory's Girl' and then drift off to sleep in my tent. I'm woken as dawn breaks, the alarm on my Tiger is sounding. By the time I'm 'decent' and investigating (like anybody is going to see me out here), the intruder has gone. A couple of hours later a Park Ranger passes, he identifies the paw prints on the Tiger's saddle as 'Mountain Lion', ... common in these parts. Time to move on, ..... next stop Lassen Volcanic Park.

www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 147: Special Package, 'CitySprint Deliver'



Highway 128 took me to Boonville and the home of my brother Alan, his wife Torrey and their two children. Their home stands in two acres of land and the extended family currently includes: 2 Cows; Watermelon & Bramble, 2 lambs; Marshmallow & Jackie, 3 pigs all named George, 2 ducks, several chickens and a crazy sheepdog named Blue.

It is on this humble yet beautiful two acre parcel of land that my mother Barbara spent the happiest days in the final year of her life, it is this small-holding that she so wanted my father to see. Today, 1st September 2008, my mothers final wish has been granted.

Since leaving St Teresa's Hospice, Darlington on St George's Day 23rd April 2008, I have carried with me a special package, a package containing the ashes of my parents. As a courier with CitySprint, this is without doubt the most important package that I have carried, ..... and possibly the longest ever motorcycle courier delivery. They have travelled with me across Europe, down through the Balkans, into Russia and through Siberia to the Far East. More importantly, they have ridden the Pacific Coastline and through the redwood forests of Northern California on a Triumph motorcycle.

I will not write about the 'Scattering' today, I need to vanish for a while and take a break. Over the next two weeks I will be loosing myself in the wilderness of North America before returning to Boonville, updating this blog, answering the many emails and then continuing the journey.

I need to say 'Thank You' to everybody who has helped me to make this delivery possible and also 'Thank You' to you, .... for reading these humble ramblings.

See you in two weeks, ...... 'Blue88'