How do you say goodbye
Mood:  chillin'
Now Playing: Colective Soul
Boy-Howdy! I have been all over the place since my last post and have had a doozy of a time. Lets see last post I was in Colorado Springs and about to head up to see my sister in Denver. Well I headed out in the early afternoon up north and the weather decided that it would be a pain in the ass. I had been having trouble with the weather for the past few days in the Springs, lightning, thunder; hail you know all the pleasant stuff, also tornado warnings. I can say that riding through freezing rain over grooved, construction torn pavement where there is 2 inches of standing water is no fun. Hopefully the Fog City visor insert that I just picked up will mean that I will be able to ride with the visor down next time. The rain was so cold that my eyeballs went numb. Feels weird blinking when ya cant feel your eyes. So I got to my sis's and had a great time catching up whilst I dried out a bit before dinner. After I was warm and dry once more we headed out to a local steak house and had a couple of bloody steaks for diner along with more great conversation. After dinner we decided to go out and party a bit in honor of her birthday. We decided to go find a club and eventually found our way to The Church. The Church is an old Catholic church that has been converted to a club and has several rooms and is quite cool to hang out in. This evening there was some DJ playing so the cover was a bit pricey but the music was fantastic. Being Malia's birthday, and the fact that she knew the bartender (Stephanie, the cutie) Malia got comped a few drinks and we had a blast dancing up a storm and sucking down the booze. After the Church closed at 2 am we headed across the street to an after-hours club. When we finally decided that we had enough we stumbled home around 4 in the morning.

Ouch. I gotta start remembering not to drink quite so much. The morning was not a welcome visitor on that Saturday. However, now that we were awake we might as well go and find some food. After a good greasy hangover breakfast we went and ran some errands then head back to her place and watched a movie and crashed. In the morning (fathers day) we called our dad who was surprised to here both of us that morning, then I packed up and after a lunch headed out toward the four corners and toward Las Vegas.

The ride from Denver toward the 4 Corners over monarch pass is amazingly beautiful. The mountains are spectacular and the roads are filled with lots of high-speed sweepers and great elevation changes. Cars though, are wonderfully sparse. I underestimated the time element and got to the 4 corners monument 15 minuets too late to be able to get to go and see it. Oh-well I decided that I would just have to return some day and continued on in the failing gloom toward flagstaff AZ. Just a tip for those of you that are thinking about doing this ride, fill up as often as you can! I crossed into AZ with about 80miles on the clock and thought nothing about passing the gas station that had been behind me by about 10 miles. When my gas gage started blinking at 260 miles and I did not see a town much less a gas stop I started sweating in spite of the chill. At 300 miles I was really starting to panic as I had only enough spare gas to get me another 10 miles or so. Luckily I got to a station at 305 and put 5.4 gallons in to my 5.8-gallon tank. The rest of the way to Flagstaff was uneventful but mind numbingly beautiful. I stopped the bike at one point turned it off and took off my helmet and just looked at the sky. Out in the plains hundreds of miles from any major town the heavens open up and provide quite a show. The velvety dark is split by hundreds of millions of sparkling jewels, each flashing in its own brilliant setting. The inky void is truly humbling and awe inspiring.

In the morning I headed out from Flagstaff toward Kingman where I would head up the 93 over Hoover dam and into Vegas from the south. When I pulled off the highway into a Sonic drive-in I pulled up next to a couple of guys who looked like they were also touring a bit on their bikes. Both the 2nd Gen Bandit 1200 and the late model VFR 800 sported lots of luggage strapped on and California plates. After some introductions and some grub we decided to ride towards Vegas together as that was where they were heading too. The heat was oppressive as we headed up 93 (long, flat, straight, boring, but HIGH SPEED {only posted @ 65 but I toped out at an indicated 120.}) Even though we were hitting some impressive speeds the wind was not refreshing. We parted company at Hoover and I headed toward the sparkling excess that is Las Vegas lost in my thoughts and delirious in the 100-107 degree F heat. I got to the MGM Grand and met Alex who had flown in that morning from Hawaii. The AC inside the room was heavenly and the shower that was waiting for me was almost orgasmic. After getting refreshed, Alex and I went down to the casino and spent some $$ at the games. That evening Brad rode up from San Diego on his Nighttrain? arriving around 1 am. He was lucky on the ride, as even though it was hot he at least did not have to deal with the sun. We proceeded to get some drinks into us walk around a bit (ogle the girls) and then crashed around 6 am. We decided that since the town is so 24 hour we would miss the heat of the days by sleeping through them and exist mostly at night. Over the next several days we proceeded to drink, go shopping for some clothes, Alex got an Bernini suit, look at women, drink, smoke way too many cloves, party at studio 54, drink, party at the Ghost Bar (highly recommended,) drink, eat occasionally including at the Belagio buffet (also highly recommended,) party at Rain (flames are cool,) and had our room paid for with nickels! So on the last night we decided that we should party till we were done and then head out in the morning toward San Francisco. So after getting back to the room around 6:30 am Brad and I loaded up our bikes said goodbye to Alex and head out in the growing heat. We decided to head up the US 95 then transfer over on some other road and pass through Yosemite toward the foggy city. The less said about the long hot straight road that we went up through Nevada the better. Once we transferred off the 95 after lunch the riding got a whole lot better. The road started to gain elevation and cool off a bit also the traffic (what little there was) disappeared and we had a great ride going as fast as we wanted to and just goofing off a bit. We rode along the shores of Mono Lake and turned west once more to enter Yosemite National Park. The lushness and coolness that was to be found in the park was shocking after spending so much in a desert for the past few days that we both ended up a bit giddy and could not stop grinning like fools and acting a bit drunk. However, as we rode on it became apparent that the long nights of partying had caught up with us. About 40 miles of the road don't exist to Brad or me. I pulled off the road at one point, as I could not keep my eyes open any longer and apparently woke Brad up too. It seems that he was following me thinking that at least I was awake and he could just follow me and trust me not to crash. Where as I was thinking that as he was following me he would pull me over if I got too dangerous looking. So that is how I rode through Yosemite and did not see a thing. I slept through it. When we got out of the park (and its dreadfully slow speed limits) we pulled over and looked at the map just to realize how far we still had to go. We saddled back up and headed into the sunset. On the ride out of the mountains we got a chance to get some real turns back into the ride and I managed to get both of my pegs down that afternoon. We found the freeway's of SanFran and proceeded to get lost time and time again on our way to Berkley where we were to meet up with Teresa and Alexa. After several attempts to get in touch with Teresa I realized that I had Alexa's number with me the whole time and gave her a ring to let her know that Brad and I had made it to their hotel. All I have to say is that after 15 hours on the road, from the heat of the desert to the chill of 11,000 feet, and all the dust and annoying drivers that we could have had thrown at us, there is nothing better then being greeted by two of the most beautiful women on earth wearing nothing but bikinis and towels saying that we had to hurry up and get naked so we could get in to a hot tub with them.

After a quick change in to some shorts Brad and I slipped into the hot-tub and just about melted, feeling the miles and miles that we had racked up melt out of our tired bodies. Unfortunately as we had gotten there so late the security guys cut our fun short and we were forced to head back to T?s and A?s room. After showers to get a bit cleaner Alexa and I headed out to get some wine and some food brad and I as we had not had food since about noon and were famished. As the first full-sized passenger I have had on the bike, Alexa was a joy to have behind me. The bike did not seem to notice her at all and was very comfortable for both of us. When we got back to the room Brad and Teresa were in bed . . . but not with each other unfortunately. After a bit of food and wine all around I bedded down on the floor and passed out till the morning. In the early morning the girls had to get ready for their older sisters wedding and after a hectic few hours they headed out and brad and I crashed back out for a few more hours of sleep. When the girls got back we headed out to find some dinner and walked into Berkley looking for something interesting to eat. Well we found a street fight in progress. Then we found a Jamaican restaurant that looked interesting. After a wonderful meal we were ushered out of the restaurant by the owner as the place had been reserved for a private party later that evening. But, get this the party was going to be booze free. As in no alcohol. None. At all. Does this not strike anybody else as a boring party?

So after dinner we headed back to the hotel for some conversation and some drinks then we retired to attempt to allow Brad and I to catch up on some sleep that we had been sorely missing over the past week or so. In the morning we headed in to the heart of San Francisco to check into a hostel and party in the city a bit. This was in its own way a ?Very Bad Idea.? Brad and I rode our bikes into the heart of the city on one of the craziest days of the year. It was the Sunday of Pride Weekend. We spent 2 hours attempting to ride 20 blocks to our hostel. The traffic was shot to hell because of the parade and of course the parade was running down a street that we had to cross to get to the area of the hostel. So what did Brad and I do? We rode through the parade. After we finally got there and checked in we got changed and decided to walk around and hunt for some dinner. We selected a nice Indian food joint and proceeded to have a great time.

In the morning the girls headed out to the salon and Brad and I headed to his sister?s. When we got to her place Brad and I passed out once more, seems that not sleeping for almost a week does bad things to the human body. When Brad?s sis got home we had some food and talked for hours late into the night. In the morning Brad and I headed down the Pacific Coast Highway toward LA. The ride was memorable due to the amazing views of the Pacific Ocean, the incredible twisting road (sample sign: Curves and hills next 78 miles), and the outrageous gas prices (3.80 for premium!) We rolled into Riverside where Brad?s new apartment is and passed out around 3 in the A.M. In the morning the bikes got a very needed bath.

I last got my bike clean in Orlando before I headed up to Maine. 11,000 miles, 21 states, hail, rain, dirt roads, bugs, damaged oiling system, lost filler cap, more rain, desert sand, more bugs, birds (2,) gum (L), a cup of coffee, and more bugs, worth of various filth was plastered to the bike and it showed. My once sparkling blue ride was nothing but an assorted mismatch of tan, gray, black, and brown. After scraping, rubbing, soaking, soaping, hosing, wiping, buffing, and generally using lots of elbow grease the Strom was looking sharp once more. The appearance of scratches, pits, and chips in the paint and plastics of the bike were expected but still a bit disappointing nonetheless. Later in the evening Brad and I headed to his complex?s movie room armed with his XBoX ? and proceeded to make lots of noise playing Rally Sport till way to late. Over the next few days I added my Scott Damper (mike porn) and washed and re waterproofed my Roadcrafter suit. One day I headed down to say good buy to my friends in Sandiego. I met John for lunch and chatted with him for an hour or so then headed to track down Jannettie and Jessilyn at their grandfathers. After I met up with them Jenny showed up with AJ and we headed out to find some food and have a chat about what I had been doing and how there lives had been going over the past couple of months. After I left them I headed out and met up with Dan and Brad at Dan?s place then headed out for drinks and grub with Dan and Brad. Later Brad and I rode back to his place in Riverside. The next day I spent getting ready to get back on the road and headed out around 11:45 p.m. to Portland.

I arrived at Alexa?s door at about 5:30 p.m. the following day after I had gone 1100 miles in 16 hours 45 minutes. After catching back up with A, she and I headed down to the riverfront blues festival. Where we saw some killer zydeco band just tear up the stage. I spent a week in Portland recuperating from the past months of hard touring and had the 15000 mile service done to the bike as well as adding the Suzuki knuckle guards to the bike. I think in that time I fell in love with the city and surrounding area of Portland. Portland has the ability to be a big city in the midst of a country area and yet feels small and English at the heart of it. On every corner is a small family run eatery and within 15 minutes you can be in the middle of farmland or a forest yet still be close to concert venues and nightlife. I am thinking that I will se if I can live here later in life after I graduate from Loughborough University.

On Monday the 12th of July I headed out towards Americas Last Frontier. I stopped in Seattle and spent that night with Rob and Mya and headed north the following morning. I crossed into Canada several hours later after waiting to cross the border for almost 2 hours in the 90-degree heat. After I navigated my way through Vancouver I headed up route 99 through Whistler toward CA route 1 and continued north till I hit 100 Mile House where I spent the night. In the morning I continued north through the vast emptiness that is Canada. That night I hit Meziadin Junction on the Stewart-Cassiar highway and slept in my tent at a rest area next to a wooden bridge. I have never had so many dreams of being run over by a big ass truck as I did that night. When I headed out that morning I did not realize how lucky I was to have decided to stop the night before. Over the next several hours I found my self repeating the phrase ?glad I stopped last night, this would have sucked in the dark? as I went over miles and miles of broken, gravel covered pavement. The freshly graded mud was fun as well; I always liked not being able to tell where the bike is going to go. Along the way a guy on a BMW 1150 RS and I kept passing each other as one or the other of us stopped for gas or piss breaks. When I got to the Cassiar/Alcan junction I decided that I needed food. Seems that I had not eaten since pm the night before and here it was approaching 3 pm. After I filled the bikes and my tank I was getting ready to head out when who rides up? That?s right the BMW guy. Turns out that he and I are heading the same place and so Kevin and I decided to ride together. The Alcan Highway is not nearly as grueling as the Stewart/Cassiar and the ride to Whitehorse was a pleasant high-speed jaunt.

When Kevin and I arrived in Whitehorse we found that the only hotel that had rooms available was an overpriced dive but the thought of a shower after the dusty, buggy, muddy, hot day that I had just ridden through was enough of an incentive to get me to fork out the cash for a room. It was a good thing that Kevin and I ran into each other as once we decided to share the room the price was much more reasonable and the conversation was great. When I awoke the next day Kevin and I packed back up and head out toward Alaska once more. The scenery between Whitehorse and Tok is fantastic if a bit monotonous but the lake that you pass has to be seen to be believed. Kluane Lake has the most amazing color I have ever seen, kind of a blue green silver that defies the imagination.
Shortly after Kluane Lake we entered Destruction Bay and met up with a guy on a Harley that we had seen riding behind us now and then. After some introductions and some lunch together we continued along in a sort of a pack though Kevin and I were keeping a pace quite a bit higher that that of Jim. We crossed the border in to Alaska late in the afternoon and stopped in TOK to say goodbye to Jim as Kevin and I were planning on heading to Fairbanks that evening. Well after getting touch with Terra, Kevin decided that he was going to spend the night in Tok as well ad I headed out alone for the first time in 2 days. The ride to Fairbanks turned into a bit of a race as I was trying to get there as soon as possible and I was attempting to keep my now destroyed chain on the bike. Since I had left Colorado I had been limping along on a damaged oiler but the mud, gravel, and dust on the Cassiar had finally killed not only the oiler but also my chain. Every 100 miles I had to stop and readjust my tension and give it another coat of oil. Shortly before I got to Fairbanks I reached the end of my adjusters and knew that I was in big trouble if I did not get a chain on my bike soon.

I limped into Fairbanks around 11:30 pm on Friday the 16th. I magically ended up across the street from where Terra and her friends were hanging out when I gave her a call letting her know that I had made it. After parking the bike I pulled off my ?stich and the tank bag from the bike and asked if I could put them in a car as I did not want to loose them. After securing my junk I headed in to the club for some drinks and to meet the gang. Around 2 am we headed out to the car and found that some one had decided that my Aerostich suit and my tank bag should be theirs.

In one fell swoop the thief had made off with all of the most valuable things I was carrying short of the bike itself. I lost my: Aerostich, Canon digital camera and all the pictures I had taken on the trip, iPod, Tank bag, over gloves, prescription shades, passport, checkbook, first aid kit, Bible, daily journal, everybody?s addresses, bike log, many of my maps, two bandanas, flashlight, Swiss army knife, security cable, keys to the bike and its luggage, all my Pounds and Euros, my flat tire kit, and countless other items I had accumulated along the way. I have now had to reschedule the rest of my trip and so from here my route will be a bit different than what the original plan was going to be.

Since I have been in Fairbanks I have gotten to know a bunch of Terra?s friends and they have been most friendly and welcoming. We have done all kinds of neat things together including: jet ski, float down a river on rafts for hours, drink WAY TOO MUCH BEER, and just have a generally great time inspite of it all. I got a new chain and oil change on the bike and started trying to replace the stolen goods with substitutes so that I can ride back down to Vancouver to ship my bike to the UK. Ill be leaving Vancouver on the 27th of August after I get back from Hawaii where I am forced to go to cancel my checking account (American savings bank sucks.)

I am looking forward to continuing my journey when I get to the UK and I hope that you all will keep reading, as I will keep updating as time goes by.

I would like to extend a special thanks to those of you who have housed me, fed me, encouraged me, supported me, and most of all believed in me. Thanks go out especially to Hannelore without whom this would have been impossible, to Brad who was there by my side through some of the toughest rides, to David and Sarah who?s council and advice has been invaluable, to Malia who took a chance, to James who was always open to listen to me bitch, to Alexa and Teresa who provided a much needed respite from the road, to Darrell the man behind the legend, to the Doigster catalyst, to Jenny and John support crew, and lastly to God through whom all things are possible.


mike