Tag: America.

Epilogue

We arrived at Whistler, a little bit north of Vancouver, three weeks before we were due to fly home.

We had a lovely Airbnb overlooking this park and we rested and contemplated our next move. Susan wanted a photo in front of the Olympic rings because she thought she deserved a gold medal for putting up with me. Oh, she’s got such a sense of humour!

So what’s the best thing to do in these circumstances – when the big journey is done, when the goals have been achieved, when we’ve smashed our way through the Yukon and Alaska, when you’re now ready for some rest and relaxation?

Well, you go on a motorcycle holiday of course!

So we left Canada and headed back down to the USA and the Oregon coast.

Our first stop on the Oregon Pacific Byway was Astoria and that’s where Susan and I had serious problems with our relationship. I’m being very open and honest here.

Now, I know what you’re thinking – such an arduous journey over the last four months was bound to raise underlying tensions, bring frustrations to the fore and cause life defining relationship ruptions.

And who was the root cause of this trouble, you ask?

Well, it was Big Bad Dog Susan of course!

I know, I know, I see you rasing your eyebrows – you’re not bloody surprised!

So what happened? What happened? Tell us what the Big Bad Dog did to rupture your relationship?

Well this is not an easy story to tell and I choke up trying to write this! Please be patient with me whilst I explain (quiet sobbing).

It all started when we stayed at a most wonderful Airbnb hosted by Trish and Thaddeus. Delightful.

At the end of our stay, Thaddeus, a flight instructor, offered to take us up in his light aircraft over the Columbia River. Susan was excited to go up in the plane and her enthusiasm was palpable.

Note: if it’s not got two wheels I tend to be a bit more calm about transport options.

Just look at the Big Bad Dog grinning with Thaddeus before the flight.

So let me tell you, let me tell you this – when Thaddeus asked who was sitting in the front, Susan’s enthusiasm boiled over so much she shouted ‘ME!’

She even raised her hand! Hear that! Like at school – me, me, me! Bloody teacher’s pet!

I was lost for words. I was stung into inaction. I was overwhelmed with despair as I quietly, meekly, climbed into a half seat at the back that was only big enough for a small child!

Do you realise the implications? Has the story got meaning for you?

Yup, you’ve got it – I had become the bloody pillion passenger!!!!

After 12,000 miles of being in command, lion of the road, looking forward to the horizon and beyond, scanning for adventure and danger, with only the road ahead and Susan behind, here I was looking a this …

I’m sitting in the back with my knees around my ears like a big seething toad.

Then it got so much worse!

Yes, that’s Susan flying the bloody plane!

Sorry for swearing again but it was quite an emotional time for me in the pillion seat and Susan flying faster than a motorcycle.

Honestly, it was terrifying. If I had I known she was going to fly I would have worn my boom boom jacket and my lovely helmet!

Thaddeus even asked her if she would like to land! Well I nearly bailed out there and then! Thankfully, Susan passed back the controls and we had a safe landing.

After the flight, we had a couple of hundred miles on the bike down the Oregon coast. It was a very quiet journey with huffy hot pants back in front.

Susan is, of course, very empathetic. Well, that’s another way of saying she knows how to get me out of a huff – she bribes me with beer!

So for the next two weeks we toured Oregon and it’s countless local independent breweries. Yes I did say two weeks! This wasn’t a huff I was going to give up easy once I had worked out a way to milk it!

In Eugene, we hit the colourful hotspots.

I bought a ‘reasonably’ expensive 3 year old experimental American whiskey after the salesman gave me 15 free tasting shots of whiskey. Some were so strong that by the end I genuinely was having trouble speaking because my lips were numb.

Then we hit a backwater bar with a ‘cowboy’ teuchter band.

Now I appreciate it’s not the correct thing to say but there’s really no way to describe better – not one person in this photo is the ‘full shilling’!

Other patrons, outwith the photo, were too risky to photograph.

I highlight the lady on the left with the cat ears who winked at everyone, the guy in tie dye shirt in the centre who didn’t stop dancing even when the band had a break and the guy that confused me for a while – the black haired guy with the two tone jacket in the photo.

In Scotland we call would call him a ‘jakey’. Oh I know it is a ‘bad’ word to use but it’s an effective and efficient adjective in this instance.

He had his worldly possessions in bags at the side which meant he could do multiple clothing changes during each song.

Now I like to keep track of the zoomers when I’m in a zoomers situation. You can imagine my concern when my attention was distracted and the black haired guy dancing with a stick vanished and a baldy with a tie dye t shirt appeared. Suddenly I’m minus one zoomer and plus another zoomer.

To explain I was distracted by the red haired mother (dancing in the photo) giving her three year old daughter a lager ice cream float.

It was only later I noticed his switching clothes and wig trick. Yup his thick black hair is a wig. Tricky old zoomer.

The music was great. The people were colourful and a bit edgy but, as long as you didn’t stare too much, it was a great place. Kind of like a Weatherspoons in Glasgow where the standards have dropped even further. Yes I know, hard to believe, but there is such a place and that place was here!

Another day, in a town called Bend, Susan and I peaked. This town has the most (30) breweries per head of population in the USA.

We were only there a couple of day but managed 7 different breweries, including the simply magnificent Crux Fermentation Project. Please don’t make me drink beer in Scotland again!

Susan was a trooper. Brewery after brewery. We rebuilt our trust and talked beer and motorcycles. Nobody mentioned flying. Nobody!

Bend, in particular, was great as the weather was perfect. Honestly, being with Susan that couple of days was nearly as good as being out with the guys! Well done Susan!

We did go to the seaside. Susan likes the seaside. I knew if I kept milking it too much my fun would be curtailed and so we endured the seaside. And the best thing I can show you about the seaside is a photo of me.

Seriously, the Oregon coast was lovely and the the roads were motorcycle heaven. What a great motorcycle holiday.

We ended our holiday in Leavenworth. What an interesting town.

Established as a logging town with a freight railway but seriously declined when the railway rerouted in the 1930’s. There was almost nothing left, no lumber mills, no employment, no stores and next to no people.

Then someone had a bright idea – let’s have a Bavarian-Alpine theme town!

The idea came from a guy, who had a cafe in town, and who had served in Bavaria during World War 2. Since then tourism and employment have boomed.

It’s an extraordinary place.

There’s a city order that states all buildings have to have a Bavarian theme. The pubs have imported German beer and German food and even the McDonald’s looks like a chalet!

Tacky yes! Authentic definitely no! But it works in a cheesy sort or way and the tourists flock to it.

After Leavenworth, we crossed back into Canada and are now in Vancouver.

Today was a sad day. The bike has been handed over to the cargo courier.

So let’s finish with some stats for the stats people.

You people who can’t deal with numbers, please just scroll back to the photo of me for a few seconds.

Miles done this trip: 12,606

Hotels, motels, Airbnb : 66

If we add South America:

Grand total North and South America miles: 22,925

Grand total hotels, motels, Airbnb: 125

Grand total border crossings: 26

(okay people who hate stats and have been staring at the photo of me instead can now return).

So, in North and South America we have nearly circumnavigated the world (earth’s circumference at the equator is 24,901 miles).

The co-pilot and I have obviously got some unfinished miles.

See you on the other side.

Arrivederci amigos.

Is This The Way?

Every night I’ve been hugging my pillow.

No these are not the words of a man who has finally broken under the relentless struggle against the highway.

When the day is dawning, on a Texas Sunday morning.

Another clue?

Sha la la la la la la, Sh la la la la la

Got it?

Final clue for this edition of pop master.

Show me the way to ….

Well I’ve handed it to you – we’re heading to Amarillo!

We left Fort Worth in the morning heat and sunshine and finished our journey in the cold and rain. This is Texas and when Texas does cold and rain it does it bigger and better than anywhere else. Even the raindrops are bigger.

By the time we got to Amarillo we were absolutely frozen. We hadn’t properly dressed for this weather and we were two chattering numskulls when we reached our hotel.

After a long hot shower we went for dinner to the place where the old people go – Cracker Barrel.

Cracker Barrel is a restaurant chain and we’ve been before during our cycling trip. I know you would definitely like it.

I like it but Susan hasn’t made her mind up yet. That’s Susan though – I swear she’s still making her mind up about me!

It’s not hip fine dining, it’s just good old home cooking for good old people. You know what I’m talking about – wholesome carbs straight from the freezer to the plate. Food that can be eaten with dentures and doesn’t need a lot of chewing. That’s what us old people like – don’t we?

You can see from Susan’s ‘distant’ expression she’s still not recovered from her freezing bike ride. What a trouper she is! On the other side of the camera I’m looking great.

And that was Amarillo. We didn’t see the town. We didn’t see Tony Christie. We were too damn tired. That’s what happens when you’re old people.

The following day was Amarillo to Santa Fe but we had to delay our start until 11am because of the weather on our road.

We were on the edge of some weather system with tornadoes, large hail and torrential rain. A local told us we were going to be ‘trapped’ in Amarillo for two days.

Show me the way outta Amarillo.

So we waited and watched the weather radar to see what’s passing over the road ahead. When it’s red rain we can’t motorbike. When it’s yellow rain we don’t want to motorbike. When its green rain we just have to get on with it.

We left in green rain and I was soon congratulating my ‘geniusness’ at threading the weather needle.

There was sh*t happening all around us, moving toward us, hitting the road behind us but we kept in the clear. I’m a bloody weather threading god!

Or so I thought, until big God apparently decided I should be brought down a peg or two.

So there I was, wee weather god, speeding along a dual carriageway when big God shoved a batch of weather across our path.

We were at 8000 feet, cruising along in the misty clouds, when big God played his Jack of Spades – heavy clouds rolled in over the interstate faster than you can say ‘oh dear’.

(writer’s note – Susan’s trying to get me to swear less in the blog because ‘not everybody swears’. I’m afraid you lose a little authenticity with my story but ‘what the Big Dog wants …… ‘ well you know how the saying goes by now)

Back to the story. The heavy clouds were rolling in then big God drops the temperature to 2c and throws down some hail. I mean BIG hail.

‘Oh dear’ I say to myself.

At first it was amusing to hear it bounce of our helmets but the amusement quickly faded as it started covering the road. Within seconds the highway was covered in slush.

It’s incredible how quick things change when big God plays his Jack of Spades.

I looked at the ascending interstate ahead. We had another 500 feet to a summit that I couldn’t see. The bike started slipping ever so slightly. It wasn’t good. I didn’t feel good.

Susan wasn’t talking. She knows not to talk when it’s not good. I can’t do talk and ‘not good’ at the same time. I’m a man after all and men can’t multitask.

Big God must have been smiling at my predicament. Not only was the weather crashing, so was my bottle!

But there’s always fight in this old dog, especially this old dog that’s been fed at Cracker Barrell. My carbs were high and energy was flowing. I played my Ace of Hearts.

A large ‘refuge’ layby suddenly appeared through the mist.

It was a split second decision. I braked heavily, almost an emergency stop. Susan crashed into me – that’s Newton’s laws of motion in action.

We’re in. We parked the bike and sought sanctuary in the lee of a large trailer. Yes, I had the foresight to take a photo for you.

Now, the photo doesn’t convey just how terrible it was and but here’s Susan sheltering.

I’ve named this composition:

‘She’s Not Moaning About The Bloody Heat Now’

On the other side of the camera I looked great.

Within minutes this refuge layby was chockablock with heavy vehicles, motorhomes and cars waiting it out.

We stood there for 30 minutes until we decided to leave. Most of the cars were waiting longer but then again they were nice an cosy.

The weather lessened just enough for me to consider going for it. We couldn’t keep standing there as I could see another batch of weather coming towards us over the mountains. I wasn’t going to let big God play his trump card – the Ace of Spades!

We were leaving the interstate at the next junction and, at a cautionary 30mph, we made it. What a relief!

Well it was and it wasn’t.

At this point I must apologise for heaping more of our hardship on you especially when it’s self generated. But if you will read a blog written by a dunderheid then you take the lows with the very occasional high.

So it was a relief when we went up the slip road. It was a relief when we saw a gas station with a coffee shop. It was a relief when we decided to stop and rest. Relief! Breathe!

I hadn’t felt so much relief since ‘idiot with a spanner’ got the main fuse replaced.

Pure relief quickly turned into a nightmare when dunderheid took the wrong road to the garage. We were now on the slip road back onto the interstate!

How did dunderheid manage that? Well we stopped, we peered through the mist, we discussed the road layout, we chose our road. Oh dear we took the wrong road!

I’m sorry, I’m sorry to you people that do swear. I wasn’t really thinking ‘oh dear’ at the time. My thoughts had more f’s than riffraff.

(writer’s note: riffraff is one of the few English words with four f’s. Nothing has five. Read and learn. Read and learn)

I stopped half way down the on ramp. Decisive move dunderheid.

I checked the sat nav and it said continue 5 miles up the interstate, u turn, then 5 miles back. Yeah, that will be shining bright – remember you’re talking to a dunderheid!

Obviously, the sat nav couldn’t see that big God had played his Ace of Spades and black skies were fast approaching. Listen, I’m not talking dark skies, these skies were from Hell itself. You would be scared. I was scared.

Susan was also scared but, to be honest, she was more scared about what dunderheid was going to do next!

Susan volunteers to get off. She’s so quick to bail out. She leaves dunderheid to do what only a dunderheid would do – he makes a three point turn and heads back up the slip road the wrong way.

I hear you mutter to yourself – ‘lucky dunderheid that no vehicles were coming the other way’.

‘Lucky they all stopped’ I reply!

Yes, there was a bit of chaos on the interstate ramp – dunderheid motorcycling and Susan walking, up the off ramp, but that’s the kind of thing that happens when you give a dunderheid the keys to a motorcycle.

When I got to the end of the on ramp Susan jumped on and we rode off – she’s great at bailing back in when the trouble has gone.

Haha, but I suckered her in this time!

I will give her some credit though – it didn’t take her long to realise we were going down a dual carriageway the wrong way!

It was okay though dunderheid was in control. It was the right dual carriageway and we were heading in the right direction. It’s just a minor point that we were on the wrong side of the road.

Yes there were other vehicles. Not many though and in a few hundred metres or more I saw a gap in the central reservation. Smoothly I adjusted our position and we were back. Nice move dunderheid.

In my rear view mirror, I saw big God chasing us with his black sky from Hell. We decided to forego the shelter and coffee in the garage and head onwards. It was also probably prudent we made off from the scene of multiple road violations.

We zoomed off into the distance, left Texas and entered New Mexico where the skies were clear.

Big God learned a lesson that day – he can throw hail, thunder and black skies from Hell but he’s not as fast as two old folk on a motorbike that have been to Cracker Barrell!

We reached our destination at Santa Fe, New Mehico and stayed in an authentic adobe hotel room.

Now I may have mentioned adobe buildings before. I may not have. I’m old and Cracker Barrel has only limited memory rejuvenating powers.

Basically, they’re made of mud bricks. It’s ‘traditional’ and authentic. I wouldn’t wish an adobe motel room on any of my friends who are pansies.

Santa Fe is a lovely town. It was a spur of the moment decision to stay an extra night and visit.

We got the bus into town and it was a bit of an eye opener. It’s America and people don’t get buses. In Santa Fe they do. In Santa Fe the homeless get the bus and run around all day.

I tell no lies. Susan and I were the only people on that bus with a house that night. Yes it’s a mud house but we had a house. On the bus, a few of the homeless were sleeping despite one guy playing the harmonica and singing about taking ketamine. There were a few other unsavoury characters you just made sure you didn’t catch their eye.

My only concern about this whole journey was that the driver let us on for free. I can only assume that Susan looked like one of the homeless. That’s life on the road for you!

The town itself is lovely and if you’re ever in the area then I would encourage you to visit. Please take a taxi though.

Yes mair mud buildings.

We left the town centre after a wonderful day. How did we get home?

Well we took the bus of course!

You have to – life is too short to miss the bus to Santa Fe!

Lone Star State

Texas is bigger and better than anywhere else. Well that’s what Texans say – big ranches, big egos and big hats for their big heads. Actually, damn fine big hats – if only I could carry one on the bike!

It’s the second time we’ve been to Texas, having passed through on our tandem in 2018. I liked Texas then and I love Texas now. It’s not for everyone but then neither am I – just like Texas 🙂

Leaving the lovely San Antonio we made the short 80 mile journey to Austin and it’s magnificent state capitol building.

With a magnificent African American History Memorial in the grounds.

Sitting alongside other statues.

This is a monument to ‘Terry’s Texas Rangers’ who were a group of cavalrymen that fought on behalf of the Confederacy in the American Civil War.

It stands among many other Confederate memorials that lionise and honour Texas’s participation in the Civil War on behalf of the Confederacy, serving as a reminder of how strong Confederate memory maintains a hold on Texas.

Okay, that’s enough of Mr Morality, here’s some Austin Joy.

We sat on plastic reclining chairs and listened to Joy for 45 minutes. Yeah, I know it’s a long video for a blog but please just play, chill, listen and watch Austin life and the world walk on by.

Talking about Austin life walking by, how about new Austin life driving by?

That’s the self driving taxi behind Joy. After successful trials in other cities, they recently arrived in Austin. It’s a strange sight to see a car rolling along city roads with no driver. These taxis are being steadily introduced across American cities and will be in Europe soon.

When they’re at the front of a lane and the lights change to green they accelerate and beat every car away. Of course they’re soon overtaken when cars with drivers break the law and exceed the legal speed limit. Says something about drivers!

Here’s another Austin photo.

Oops sorry wrong one.

Two Susan’s you ask, what’s all that about?

Well, the first one was from when were here in 2018.

I could have given you a photo of myself ‘before and after’ but you would just say ‘oh he’s had a hard paper round the last few years’.

So we left fabulous Austin and moved to Fort Worth. Another great place – well it has to be it’s in Texas. We’re bigger and better than the rest of you! Oops, sorry getting carried away there. Sometimes I’ve got to remind myself I’m a 21st century meterosexual and not a 19th century Confederate sympathiser. Oh jeez there I slip into Mr Morality again. Sorry!

So what do you want to see when you go to Fort Worth? Well of course we want to see cattle and if we’re in Texas we want to see longhorns.

I’ve no idea why they call them longhorns – suppose it’s just Texas saying we’re longer then the rest of you. Well damn right we are!

These are real Texas Cowboys just like Mickey Mouse is real at Disneyworld.

Fort Worth is ‘cowtown’ and cowboys once herded cattle along the Chisholm Trail to factories in Fort Worth where they were ‘processed’ and loaded onto trains to feed America.

I’m going to move on from giving your further details of the millions of cattle ‘processed’ at the Stockyards in Fort Worth in case I turn you vegetarian. I wouldn’t want to have that on my conscience!

So let’s quickly change the subject from cows to sheep. Here’s a photo of sheep.

‘Oh nice old photo but what’s this to do with me not becoming a vegetarian’ you may well ask. Well nothing quite frankly.

I just introduced another animal ‘processing” story with a bit of subterfuge. And now you’ve seen a photo of sheep you’re hooked on my next story. I’m a cunning old meat eating evangelist.

Ah, but there’s one or two of you out there who will notice that all these sheep are not quite the same! Oh yes, the penny is dropping – one of the sheep is a bloody goat!

Yes, yes, unbelievably I’ve got a story about sheep and a bloody goat!

Fort Worth also ‘processed’ sheep and as sheep are herding animals the cowboys came up with a unique way to get them to move from the stockyards to the place where they were ‘processed’.

You would think they would use sheep dogs. No, they didn’t – they’re Texas cowboys, the biggest, the best and the cleverest. Instead they used a goat because sheep like to follow goats!

I know, I know, everytime you read this blog you learn something!

It appears only cowboys know this and our farmers in the UK have been training dugs to do the job for generations. If only they were as intelligent as us cowboys.

Now, there’s more cowboy ingenuity to this story and I will share it with you. We all know goats like to eat anything and so cowboys at the ‘processing’ place gave the goat chewing tobacco. The goat became addicted.

Every time the goat leads sheep to the ‘processing’ place he gets tobacco. So what does he do thereafter? He goes back to pick up more sheep. And so on.

The clever cowboys called the clever goat ‘Judas’.

Us cowboys don’t need highly trained collie dugs to herd sheep. We just need a few goats and some tobacco. Cowboy genius.

Now to show I’m a real Texan cowboy here’s one of my meals

Now let’s set the record straight – Susan’s mountain of coleslaw has come out disproportionately large in the photo.

There’s over a kilo of the most tender smoked brisket, ribs and chilli sausage you will never have had unless you’ve been to Texas. It’s BBQ food heaven.

Before I leave Fort Worth I’m going to put you off food altogether. My apologies.

We regularly stay at motels frequented by workmen – we like to stay with real people who have a job in the morning and are up at dawn. Just like us.

In such motels, breakfast can be pretty basic. In North America it’s always eggs and sausage stuff moulded into a shape. It’s quite efficient when the eggs and sausage patty are both round. Yeah yeah, square bread does grate against my OCD but sometimes you just need to relax. So relax and DON’T mention my square bread! Please! I’m struggling with it!

Susan has unfortunately gone over to the dark side.

She’s making her own waffles in the waffle machine and she’s so expert she gives tuition at the breakfast bar. It’s embarrassing.

And yes that’s a waffle in the shape of Texas with peanut butter, blueberries and eggs. Yes she does eat them together – enough to turn you into a carnivore. Disgusting!