Over the Hill and Far Away……….

We had a scintillating night at the Bull Shed yesterday as our farewell to Bakersfield. The high spot had to be watching just about the only other person in the bar. He sat at the end nursing a small glass of beer and adjusting his baseball cap. Initially it was peak front, then peak at the back and finally he took it off. That seemed to be his idea of a good night out. Mark had to be restrained from accosting him and shouting – “It’s a hat. The peak goes at the front. Read the instructions!”

We then got talking to a disgruntled music industry A&R man who had stopped off en route between San Francisco and LA where he was “nursemaiding” some bands. He gave us his take on the San Joaquim Valley – “The Abyss” – and Bakersfield – “380000 people and 360000 of them are idiots on account of the inbreeding”. He also scared the bejasus out of us with tales of gangs and highway piracy around Barstow, which we were about to pass through the next day.

Alarmingly we discovered that out bar bill was $71 of which only $24 was food. We put this down to the excessive price of soft drinks over here.

Anyway, the day dawned fine and sunny (I may get sick of typing those words). We set off down Route 58 and were soon climbing out of the valley into some spectacular mountain scenery. Once down the other side we were in the Mojave Desert. It’s flat and arid country but something of a novelty after the last few days.

We passed the huge Edwards AFB, watching the contrails of fighter jets frolicking in the clear sky above us and big transport jets lumbering in to land.

Stopping soon after for a much-needed rehydration we noticed signs at the rest area warning about rattlesnakes! It seems their preference is for dogs and small children but we did wonder if they could get their fangs through a motorcycle boot.

The riding was much easier today with a variety of roads from three-lane interstate to narrow two-lane highways to break the monotony. Despite the extreme heat we covered a respectable 182 miles and arrived in Redlands by 2pm having only got slightly lost looking for our hotel. After discovering the nearest bar is about 1.5 miles away we leapt into the small but blissfully cool swimming pool. The high here today has been about 40C (105F). It was fine when we were moving but almost unbearable when we were stopped in traffic.

No pine trees today but we did see Joshua trees in the desert.

Having found ourselves in a pleasant hotel and in the middle of a heatwave, we decided to have a rest day today. We are making good progress but up to 200 miles per day on a bike takes its toll and it’s good to have an occasional day off.

The temperatures here are nudging 37-38C which is about 100 for those of us who still think in fahrenheit. It is apparently approaching record high temperatures for the time of year and about 20F above average. Consequently we’ve done little more than stagger between the pool, the gym and the ice machine since we got up. 

We spent an interesting half hour or so last night in the bar (The Bull Shed) attached to the hotel. It seems to be a popular place with the locals and baseball caps and cowboy hats were present in abundance. We watched in horrified fascination as huge glasses were filled with ice which then had fluorescent green or blue liquids sloshed over it (and most of the surface of the bar) before being dumped in front of the lucky recipients. We stuck to beer!

On the subject of drink, we’ve noticed that Newcastle Brown Ale seems to figure prominently among the beer taps in many bars. Who says that the Brits have lost their entrepreneurial spirit if we’re actually able to export something so toxic that no-one at home wants it any more. It’s seems a bit like Chernobyl being able to sell its nuclear waste.

Anyway to return to the point, we are back on the road tomorrow and heading for Redlands which is just outside of San Bernadino. This was the last stop on the old Route 66 and we should cross it at some point but we won’t be joining it yet. From Redlands we should be a day’s ride from the Arizona border.

Thanks to all at home who have been following this blog. It’s great to get your feedback and comments and to know that we haven’t yet been entirely forgotten!

My day began with the sound of Mark swearing at someone in a call centre half a world away. The wonders of technology! The day appears to be ending in the same way! We’ve both had problems with our phones and card payments refused – presumably because some computer back in the UK wonders what some bloke who hasn’t left Stafford in the last 12 months is doing buying petrol in California. Still I am learning lots of new swear words just from listening to Mark.

Anyway, apart from that it has been a good day. Merced was a fairly nondescript grid-pattern town with no discernible central area. After a massive meal last night at The Branding Iron Restaurant (a popular place with local cattle ranchers apparently), we both passed on breakfast and set off in 90 degree heat down Route 99 through the San Joaquim Valley via Fresno and various other towns. The valley is very flat and agricultural with vineyards and grain silos dotting the landscape. There is a striking contrast between the wealth of the natural resources and the poverty of some of the communities we passed through.

The other thing that dots the landscape is billboards advertising legal services which always feature pictures of the lawyers looking both earnest and shifty in roughly equal measure. We have decided that if we get nicked down here we’ll engage the services of Randy Rumph (I kid you not)! If he can’t get us off, at least we can have a laugh along the way.

After 164 miles we reached Bakersfield and amazingly found the Hilton immediately. Our hotel was actually located somewhere behind there but remarkably the god of hotel bookings had smiled on Mark and our place was pleasingly upmarket too. This was evident when the ever-present Californian welcoming smiles faltered somewhat as two sweaty, dishevelled bikers shambled into their pristine lobby. However they let us book in and we took ourselves down to the large swimming pool which we had to ourselves. It was so good that we’ve decided to stay another day and have a rest day tomorrow.

We’ve just had a sumptuous meal in downtown Bakersfield mainly involving lots of seafood and wine. If you’re ever passing through I’d recommend the blackened salmon at the aptly named “The Mark” restaurant. I’d suggest avoiding the rest of the town unless you have kept your gang membership current (and apparently membership of AAA doesn’t count as a proper gang).

Mark has finally finished swearing at call centre operatives for the day so we’ll probably turn in now or maybe head to the hotel bar for a nightcap.

ps Did I mention there were no pine trees today. We have seen lots of palms and the occasional cactus though.

The day dawned bright and sunny and with the promise of a warm ride. We breakfasted at a local diner where Mark sensibly ordered bacon, eggs and hash browns – which for some reason were white. Meanwhile I fought a grim and bloody war of attrition with a large cow which had apparently fallen into a huge vat of potatoes and mushrooms before being diced and finally dispatched by having two large eggs dropped on it. Delicious – but I’m still struggling to digest it.

After the epic breakfast, we set off for Merced, some 200 miles south down Route 99.

However after a few minutes I watched Mark miss the intersection and accelerate merrily away down route 149. It was at that point that it occurred to me that this was not a good time to realise that neither of us has any sense of direction and we both have the memory-span of a particularly inattentive goldfish. There followed a frantic chase with much waving of arms before we found a farm track where we could turn round and get back on course. It was all plain sailing after that apart from navigating round Sacramento in what seemed to be rush hour!

The scenery was a mainly flat, agricultural and industrial landscape with rice-fields and orchards interspersed with small towns.

After just over 100 miles we needed a break and pulled over at a truckstop. We discovered that we were actually just outside of Lodi. You have to be a Creedence Clearwater Revival fan to realise how exciting this was! For those of you familiar with the lyrics of the song, you will be relieved to learn that we were in fact just passing through and we did not get stuck in Lodi again.

Naturally we got lost again looking for the hotel and when we finally got here we discovered that I had booked the room for last night rather than tonight! However we managed to smooth over that little blip and we are now shaved, showered, shampooed and ready to head off for our tea.

Our mileage today was 217 – exactly the same as yesterday – how weird is that?

Did I mention there were no pine trees today?

PS Sorry for the late post. The wifi was not cooperating last night.

Ho hum, another dreary day spent trying to persuade Mark that it is not conducive to our welbeing to tell large, bearded men with tattoos that riding a Harley makes them sad, cliched old farts.

That aside, the day started bright and early in Klamath and we headed of down Route 97 towards California. We were quite surprised to go through an inspection as we crossed the border between the states but were waved on with a cheery “You have a nice day now”! Following the 97 through Dorris we eventually reached Weed. However seeing that there was none on offer we moved on and blasted down the Interstate (you have no idea how much I enjoyed typing those words!) stopping only for a nice cup of tea at a rest area (well actually it was a particularly nasty cup of hot chocolate and a mediocre coffee).

A slight anxiety about fuel lights flashing caused us to drop down to just below the speed limit for a while, This turned out to be fortuitous as a State Trooper cruised past soon afterwards. Otherwise I could be writing this from the County Jail rather than a hotel room.

The high spot of the journey was undoubtedly being overtaken by an elderly couple who were sitting in what appeared to be armchairs, mounted on what can only be described as the three wheeled, bastard offspring of an unholy tryst between a motorcycle and a Honda Civic.

After 217 miles, which went from freezing cold, 5000 feet up Mount Something-or-Other and baking hot as we cruised through the peach orchards and palm trees on Route 99, we reached Chico. Instead of failing to find our hotel in the midst of a thunderstorm, today we failed to find our hotel in the midst of 30 degree heat.

However after a large meal and a stroll through the Thursday night street market we are now refreshed and ready to do it all again tomorrow! Next stop Merced.

PS. Did I mention there were pine trees along the way?

This is actually Mark’s bike. The Yam is being driven by his manservant who carries his luggage.

In the highly unlikely event that the rightful owner of the Harley reads this – err I was only joking dude, loved the tatts …………..