United States
of America (USA)
The photo below give you visually interactive access to the
day by day adventures as they are experienced. The commentary
below each photo will enhance your understanding of people,
places and hopeless situations I managed to fall into. Make
sure you read the commentary. They help paint the picture.
You can click a photo or link, or simply scroll down and randomly
pick a photo that tickles your fancy.
|
 |
I5 - Miracle Run
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
I pulled into the last resting bay before the Canadian Border.
A giant bus covered in Christian symbols and philosophies maintained
my attention throughout. I was gutted mentally and physically
at this stage. I don't think I was ever meant to make it this
far. The ride from San Diego had almost killed me. My bike broke
down on average three times a day over the last week. I was an
hour from the border. Other peoples stories seem to release my
general every day concerns and ponder life from another perspective.
Enlightening my thoughts and releasing another pocket of energy
to keep on going. This larger than life Christian man believed
in the almighty power of the lord. Admittedly I am not on the
same wavelength but was happy to listen. I stepped on board and
introduced myself and heard some amazing stories. I was told that
the devil was inside me. But it was ok. He could help. I was told
I had power but devil would control it if I did not give everything
to Jesus..continue below..
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
I sat and listened as you do. Everyone has a story to tell and
I believe that you can learn something from any person or experience
whether good or bad. So I sat there for ten minutes. A little
later he called his wife from a hidden vault near the back of
the bus. She glided up the centre isle like a ghost and settled
by his side all love, inner turmoil and sadness. He asked her
to tell her story. She sat there and told me how she was raped
by her family when she was younger. Repeatly. She tried to kill
herself many times. But never quite completed the task. God saved
her. When she met her husband he took her in and save her soul
with God by his side. Now she spends her life spreading the word
of Jesus. I don't link myself to any particular religion. But
what I have heard over the last few years, faith and love seems
to be able to give people the ability to overcome any hardship.
I had more thoughts to ponder and new energy to continue. Our
life is so damn easy in the developed world. Is there really time
to complain?
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
I pulled off the I5 and into a petrol
station at about 10pm, looking for internet access and some fuel.
Two big black guys driving a brand spankin' new Mercedes pull
up next to me. "Hey bro, you got ice cream in them boxes
a' yours? (referring to my aluminium panniers strapped to my bike)."
Proceeding to laugh themselves silly. With a straight face I replied,
"Yeah mate, Australian Icecream. I've got chocolate, vanilla
and strawberry but I've run out of mint choc chip. You want standard
or waffle cone?". Both faces went blank. "Are you for
real? You really got icecream in there?". I laughed. "No,
you f$%king idiot. I rode all the way from Australia and I got
my luggage in here." They started laughing too and we sat
and chatted for 30minutes in the petrol station. The guy on the
left is a famous NFL (Gridiron) player Keith
Wright from some team that I forgot the name. They had just
bought a Phillie's Blunt and had invited me back to their house
to chill out. Then invited me to an NFL game later that week,
but I had to deny all as I was trying to get to Edmonton, Canada
to see my dad compete in the World Masters Games. Killa. Would
have been good. One day I'll go back and see a game.
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
Later that night my bike was huffing and puffing its way on as
it does. After meeting the Gridiron boys above I found an internet
cafe and shot out a few emails. Before I left the manager offered
me all the left over muffins and croissants. Dinner! She said
"This is your dinner?". Sure is! I grin from ear to
ear very satisfied with my score - hadn't eaten in a while. I
tore out of there and back onto the I5. An hour later I was falling
asleep at the handlebars and pulled off to find camp. I drove
ten kms off the highway and found nothing. I returned to a petrol
station with five kids perched on the back of a Ute with their
skateboards close at hand. Up and coming skate videographers.
I asked them where there was a good place to camp for free. "Follow
us". They tore out of the petrol station and through the
surrounding farmland. It was past midnight. We pulled up to a
small tuft of land. Free camping. Cool. We sat and talked for
a while. I took a few photos of them skating in front of my new
campsite, then they spun home. Cool kids. Still stay in email
contact.
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
The very next night I was edging my way closer to to border. I
had made it to the Oregon/Washington State border. It was midnight.
I ride all day until I can't ride anymore. It is the only way
I am going to make it to Edmonton for my dads competition. This
man Dave is a vietnam vet with intestinal cancer and MS. His fine
lady friend made me breakfast. I had known them for ten minutes
at the time. They built their own RV. He has a grow room for weed
hidden in the back of it. It is the only thing that eases his
pain, in every day living. They made me breakfast and gave me
a watch. So I gave them a frisbee. They gave me a home made bag,
so I gave them a ..... His doctor gave him a hospus allowance
then took it away as he just wouldn’t die. He wears a helmet
because he is prone to passing out randomly. The cancer has reached
his brain. He lives in a trailer park in northern california.
He won’t be here much longer, but he is making the most
of every second. He is determined to live forever.
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
There is something about this guy
that makes me think of angels. The soul glow. When you look into
his eyes it seems as if nothing can stand in his way. Maybe its
because everything already has. His helmet has his blood type,
current afflictions, drugs needed if he passes out, etc. Everything
needed to give him a chance to live another day.
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
Inside Dave's RV where he lives with his girlfriend and two dogs.
Every single space is covered or cluttered with something. All
related to positivity and living life to the fullest. A truly
inspiring character.
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
Pissed off. I rebuilt my carberettor 8 times over the last four
days. In rest zones, on the side of the highways, RV parks, random
peoples backyards, etc. I truly thought this was the end. Rendered
immobile 1000kms from the Canadian border. Four days until my
dads competition starts, at least 3,500ksm to get there. Later
the same day I pulled into a rest stop. Finally defeated. I had
done everything my in my knowledge bank of useless information
that I could do to get the bike moving. I started quizzing truck
drivers pulling up if they would give me a ride to the Canadian
border. In two hours I had no luck. 3.5 days to go... then came
"The Carberettor Angel"..
Highway 5 - San Diego to The Canadian Border
- The flying time - July 2005
The Carberettor Angel. This old guy with a snow white Father Christmas
beard came waddling over to where I was stretched out under the
shade of a tree pondering how useless my situation was. "Is
that your bike?" He questioned. I was real tired and the
last thing I wanted to do was go through the... Really? You rode
from South America? From Australia? Wow! Did you have any accidents?
What was the scariest thing that happened? Did you ever get robbed?
Etc... But he just wanted to know about the bike. Even though
I was tired I answered his questions. He was a really nice guy.
He designed the shell for the car on his chest. Which formerly
held the World Land Speed Record. He happened to be a bit of a
scientist when it came to carberettors. I informed him of my problem
and he provided me with an impromptu 30 minute mechanical lesson
in the inner sanctum of the carberettor. Ten minutes later I had
my bike working. And I made it to Vancouver, Canada. Where I proceeded
to rebuild my engine one last time for the haul to the Artic Circle
in Alaska. The only way I could make it to see my dad was to fly.
So I flew to see my dad compete arriving just in time. For the
first time ever in his life, he won the 100, 200 and 400metres
championships at a world title event. And I was there to see it.
So it was all worth it in the end.
San Diego
San Diego, California - July 2005
Mr Fernando the San Diegan moto master helps me out with a few
tips out the back of my hostel opposite his garage. Twas damn
nice to have someone offer me a place to work on the bike. Makes
life a hell of a lot easier.
4th of July,San Diego, California - July 2005
As you can see everyone is out in
their best attire.
50 miles from San Diego- July 2005
The first time I have ever been towed
in two years 50miles from San Diego. My chain had snapped and
twisted. Tow guy took me to a mates house where we honed to chain,
relinked it and I made it. Guy helped me out for free. Good bloke.
52 miles from San Diego- July 2005
The mate. He honed down my chain
and clipped me in in exchange for a good conversation. Sounds
good to me.
Las Vegas
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Enter Las Vegas. Abba impersonators, Elvis impersonsators and
even person impersonators. The place to make your mark, take a
stand, blow your money, collect STD's, get bashed for your flip
flops, splashed by g-strung girlies fightin in the mud, ride a
mechanical bull, sold cigarettes by a midget in a cabaret outfit,
get married, find a destroyed soul, have the time of your life,
and maybe if you are really really lucky break even and get out.
Sin City Hostel, June 2005
Clutch plates went to metal heaven whilst I rolled around at ten
kms an hour looking for parts in 37C heat. I had such a fun time
sweating my nuts off. Replaced with new plates in carpark of Sin
City Hostel.
7-11 on Las Vegas B'lvd, June 2005
Come in for the morning slurpie,
buy a packet of cigarettes and a Red Bull chaser then settle back
on the rotating pokie seats for a good battle of the bank accounts.
Out the front of 7-11 on Las Vegas B'lvd,
June 2005
Cops pull out right behind an all star swinging session. Arms
flailing some nailing. Police busted up the show. Found out that
the guy on the ground (who is hammered) is wanted in relation
to two homicides.
Las Vegas B'lvd, June 2005
Anyone for a street Humvee?
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
The Bar. You can order a beer and bet at the same time. The bar
is lined with pokies, 7-11 is lined with pokies, there are even
urinals lined with pokies. After a while, all you can see is flashing
lights, credit cards being snipped in two and alcohol. After a
while the bartender starts to disappear. You wave money in the
air in front of you and it floats through the air and comes back
in the form of small plastic chips or liquid filled glasses.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Extravagance. I walked into the second storey level of the Venetian
at midnight. The atrium glowed with daylight. I looked up to the
afternoon sky, wondering how the hell they managed to steal the
day and wedge it into a football field sized upmarket shopping
centre. After stumbling through the first room, I carooned over
a bridge, authentic gondolas stroking beneath me and into the
sunset. They captured the sunset? It was all too much. I scrunched
up my eyes, and screamed my way around in circles looking for
an exit, through tears I noted a security guard at my rear building
speed. I upped the tempo and turned on the free flow, I saw the
green and white sign, head down chargin.. straight into a glass
wall. No streaks, damn cleaners. Security closer. I charged again
and knocked myself out. They hauled my limp figure down a secret
backhall and out into the alley. One holding my arms the other
my feet, they swung back, and forth, and back, one, two, threeeee!
they squealed. Whilst they were dusting their hands I was still
flying through the air, landing in a dustbin on the other side
of the road. Hey bud, muffles a tramp in my ear, gotta cigarette?
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Once you enter it is impossible to enter without emptying your
wallet. They even have wallet inspections at the door. Sir? Yes,
I can see you still have ten dollars? Five cent pokies are to
your left sir. No sir your have to spend ALL of your money before
you leave. Taxi? Sir, you have legs yes? Well walk! In Africa
they don't even have Humvees sir. I am sure you can manage it.
Thankyou. Next please..
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
I am staying at Sin City Hostel, straight across from Viva Las
Vegas Drive Through Weddings. I have seen over 100 weddings in
my short time here.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
You walk in the front door a free man, thirty minutes later you
walk out the chapel door, your name and your new spouse's name
emblazoned across the door in bright lights. You step into a stretch
Humvee, Dodge or Limo. Ruined.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Buy a drink and place a bet. Or insert ten dollars and recieve
a free drink. I pretended to insert ten dollars and got a free
drink. Sat around taking photos. Worked pretty well for a few
minutes. Then the barman got crappy. I took a photo of him. He
smiled and left me alone. Everyone wants to be famous.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Trying our best gamblers pose, Stu didn't need to try so hard.
He's lucky to have the addicted gamblers casual gut and souless
stare down packed. I had to smack him across the chops to snap
him back to Graceland.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Welcome to Las Vegas. The land of fast food, futuristic fast lanes
and phallic buildings. All crammed into one town. You never stop
wondering. Is there anything they don't have here?
Stratosphere, Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Stu and I decided headed to the top of Stratosphere. Home of the
fastest lift in the world and the highest rollercoaster in the
world which sits on top of it. I rode it, it sucked. But it was
high. Obviously our Aussie good looks were too much for these
Japanese tourists. They insisted on a photo. Their hats were too
much for us. So we insisted on one back.
Stratosphere, Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Ya knauw (know) when arrgh (I) ferst (first) caime (came) haier
(here), wasn't much else 'cept dem aliens from Area 51 (150miles
away). They knew how ta pardey. Matter a fact arrgh (I) married
wunovem (one of the them).
Enserio? (Serious?). Tu perro loco! (You crazy dog!)
Stratosphere, Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
The friendly ladies at Stratosphere took my money, smiled, and
gave me a really big ticket. Stu trying to check out the cleavage
of some silicone DDDD's one line down. So much plastic surgery,
they even have disposal silicone machines for those one night
silicone jobs. Slip it in and throw it out the next day. The best
way to catch that perfect man.
Scampy Casino, Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Many people have their secret issues. This man, who we will called
Randy is addicted to Neon. He sleeps under the bar at night. Can't
get away from that soul glow.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
I saw these fine ladies of the night pass my way. Ignoring me.
Sniff. Is it that obvious that I don't have any money? I ripped
out my camera, tailing them whilst I screwed on my lens. For real
she said, "You didn't just take a photo of ma ass did you?"
I replied, "No,but I was thinking about it. Can I?".
Pause. "Yeah sure." What?! She said yes? What type of
voyeuristic world have I slipped into? We passed a concrete lion
and they struck a pose on his paws. See through hotpants straining
for the camera.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
Stu was shocked when turning around to see me snapping
away at two scantily clad ladies of the night metres behind him.
A little black kid walks behind me. "Damn boy, you lucky.
Gimme sum a dat." Then he slapped my arse. Confused and a
little bashful with all the attention, I slap him across the back
of the head and send him on his way. He growls at me, with a very
disturbing glint in his eye.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
These ladies knew how to strike a pose.
Las Vegas Boulevard, June 2005
At the end of our session I asked for a photo of their faces.
I said, "Thats the most beautiful part. I wanna see your
faces ladies". They grinned and turned. A little shocked
at my request.
Return
to top...
Grand Canyon
The Grand Canyon Road - East Entry, June
2005
En route from The Four Corners (only place in the USA where four
states meet. Amazingly unexciting) to the Grand Canyon I came
across the biggest motorcycle I have ever seen in my whole entire
life. A modified (in Canada) Goldwing with three wheels and a
massive trailer. Longer than a small flatbed truck. Cup holders,
surround sound, fridge, microwave..
The Sheriffs House, North Rim, Grand Canyon,
June 2005
Woke up out the back of a Navajo Indian Reserve. Three trucks
full of Navajo drawing fresh water from a well. Sunrise set off
for The Grand Canyon,
50kms out of the Four Corners. Clutch plates starting to slip.
About 450kms to the Canyon. I arrived on the South Rim by 30minutes
after midday. Bought food, bought ticket for the North Rim, booked
two nights camping in the canyon, lay everything out on the road
to pack. It suddenly rained extremely hard, everything wet. Packed
and pulled up downside of the bus by 1:40pm. Drove for almost
350kms. Passed out in the front seat. Woke up to wipe dribble
off my chin three times. Arrived had really nice dinner with special
thanks to the Kentucky lovers from KFC Country (Steve and the
Gang). Walked to campsite. No space. Asked security guy about
camping in the bush. He drove me to the rangers car back in town,
chattered to the Ranger above who after ten minutes invited me
to sleep on his couch. The man above tucked a roof over my head
for a few hours. I was obviously delighted.
North Rim, Grand Canyon, June 2005
Everyone else was snapping photos, and feeling left out and peer
pressured I knew I had to get one or be shunned by the tourist
fraternity. "Hey mate, ah, can you take a photo for me?,
The power is running out, but just press here, focus, press there,
and ya done." "Rightio sonny". I gripped the rail
in anticipation spraying hairspray on my face to hold the "Hi
I am a tourist, and I've been here, so there" smile. Came
off ok. Maybe I should have done the hands in the air pose. Too
late now.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
The first valley of the North to South Rim Raid. I waltzed down
the road to the trail head about 7am. Got picked up by two lesbian
ladies I was chatting to the night previous. They drove me to
the trail head. Jumped out and started running down the trail.
What the hell am I doing?! Too excited. I slowed down to a canter.
Less than 0.01% of all visitors make it to the bottom of the Canyon.
Most people drive to the Rim, look down, "Coor, thats pretty
ain't it?", grab a beer suck down a fag and go see the IMAX
Grand Canyon movie. Then go home. "Grand Canyon, Coor, right
big rocks, well pretty."
Grand Canyon, June 2005
Given my pack was half the size of everyone elses (minimalistic
tendencies), I powerwalked my way to first camp in a few hours.
Passing a group of four police officers from Oregon. Very nice
chaps. We bantered over the next few nights. I was assured that
all that Hollywood stuff about dodgy cops was all lies. They all
loved each other and everyone, then he started some weird peace
chant and they started hugging each other. we had a group hug
and I moved on. Seriously though, these guys were really nice,
shame I didn't get their details.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
"What you want of photo of an old fart like me for?",
were his first words. I was impressed with the size of his sack
considering he was at least 100yrs old and doing the same walk
as me. Here I was thinking it was strictly for the hardcore, the
whole Rim to Rim thing. We sat and nattered away while the weight
of his back constantly pushed him off his perch. Repositioning
himself at least ten times during our short but sweet conversation.
Power to the people I say. I hope I would still have the guts
to do this walk when I am 100yrs old.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
I arrived at Cottonwood Campground by 10:30am. A whole
day to kill. I spent the day stalking lizards, snakes, hunting
for the elusive cougars and dodging lightning strikes. This lizard
was perched directly above my table. On the North Rim on the previous
night I met a family who had all been struck my lighting ten years
ago. Their beautiful daughter who is now 17 wrote a website when
she was seven on her strike! I can't remember what it was though.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
Whilst exploring Phantom Ranch, and taking shelter from the hail
and lighting smacking the back of my head I met some Power Rangers.
I didn't think they were real when I was young. But after meeting
these guys, from South Africa, Great Britain and New Zealand,
I knew without a shred of doubt that when I grow up I want to
be a Power Ranger.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
The final night I feel asleep on top of a table, wrapped in my
tent cover. I was woken at 1am by a hobbit from Oregon. "Steve?"
I snapped awake, a hobbit head glinting in the fullmoon light.
"Its time." With packs twice my size the hobbit family
stormed away, I huffed and puffed for the human cause. Don't want
to get shown up by a hobbit. The walk was amazing, moonlit paths
winding us up the exposed South Kaibab Trail. Occasionally we
sat down and they discussed Gollum and how naughty he had been
recently. If you move your head up and down you should be able
to see a hobbit with his hobbit stick staring at the moon, it
was his birthday, he was making a wish.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
Even in full moonlight the hobbits were able to conjure up artificial
light for a half decent photo. You will notice on the left my
blurred body. Sitting down my head almost reached birthday boy
hobbits shoulder. Tiny little critters, but good company.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
The South Kaibab commands respect. Amazing views of the surrounding
Canyons. As the sun softened the South Rim, the moonlight was
still highlighting the North Rim. Phenomenal perspectives, resplendent
projective, subjective objectives. I just wanted to rhyme, I apologise
for it not making any sense.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
Yes, another view over the western landscape. The photos do not
do it justice. This place definately earns its right to be one
of the Seven Natural Wonders of our World (SNWOOW)
Grand Canyon, June 2005
Really lazy people get their gear lugged down into the Canyon
by a chain gang of mules who crap green muck all over the trail.
Luckily my shoes have holes in the bottom, I managed to squish
some goodness right through to my soles on more than one occasion.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
A five foot striped whip snake almost tripped me up in Cottonwood
Camp. I decided to get close and personal. After confirming the
shot, I asked Ranger Stacy if I could borrow a book to confirm
the species. I walked back out with a bag of grapes and cherries,
some moleskin for my blisters, a can of tomato soup and chocolate/peanut
butter flavoured Powerbar. The kindness of Rangers.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
On the second day of Grand Canyon solitude I navigated my way
into yet another overwhelming canyon. The closest we have canyons
like this in Australia is probably Pennant hills, down the mainline.
Mainline boyz are gay. Hugene, Bart, Noodles and the Gang. Yeah
you.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
I had almost made it out. The spiritual forces swirling their
way through the heavenly vortexes that I accidently stepped into.
I was on my way the spiritual world. But my Icebreaker socks wouldn't
let me go. As you can see my feet are still firmly planted on
the ground, whilst my body was flirting with the horizon.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
It was getting late so I broke my way back from the spirit world.
In this shot I had almost returned back to reality, securing my
silver lining to continue on and up the the South Rim.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
I made it out, recharged and ready to take on the world. Three
Natural World Wonders under my belt. Next one will be in Alaska,
under the Northern Lights in the Artic Circle. I started fist
pumping Rocky style. I even had a squash ball that I was pelting
at the ground and clenching in my vice like fists. Until I lost
it over the edge of a Canyon due to the inconsistent surface of
the ancient bedrock. I just didn't feel as tough without the squash
ball. I meandered my way up the final ascent, beaten by a squash
ball.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
To keep my mind off the rain and thunder shattering the skyline
over head I took time lapsed photos of my $3.99 torch. I think
I was trying to make an S for Stupid. But instead came up with
a glow in the dark Yellow Ribbon. Except its orange.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
My second evening wasn't exactly the most comfortable. Almost
froze my nipples right off. I lay my thermarest on a park bench,
dressed head to toe in some woolly Icebreaker's and wrapped myself
up in my tent cover. I was told by many people, "It never
rains this time of year. And even if it does, only for an hour."
It rained all night. All night. Thunder, lightning and hailstones.
Thankfully some big ones knocked me out about 2am otherwise I
don't think I would have got any sleep. Monsoon coming early.
"Well how about that hey? Weathers a bit funny I guess!"
says the ranger with a laugh and a smile. Damn monsoon. Always
on my arse.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
The Hobbit family and I posing for the camera. I tried to get
them to pull a "hey I'm a Rimrunner" toughguy pose.
But being Hobbits, it just ain't their thing. I know what you
are thinking, aren't they meant to be really short? Well, trick
photography assisted this shot. I was actually standing ten metres
further back in this photo.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
My lovely toes got mule crap wedged in the little overwhelmed
pores control in/outtake on my feet. After rubbing them up and
down the cement a few metres I wore them back to their standard
manky condition.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
I woke up at sunrise out the back of a Amerindian Navajo community
who kindly let me camp there overnight. Four utes surrounded my
tent. Navajo farmers filling up from the local water spring for
the day. Their silence was astounding. They just sat and watched
on as I rode from the dead. I don't think they expected me to
be there. They were very nice reserved people. Off for the Grand
Canyon.
Grand Canyon, June 2005
A special area of the US famous for dust blowing competitions.
Said to be the home of some of the best dust blowers in the world.
This fine piece was blow by Dusty "Master Blaster" Dreschnickel.
Hoover Dam, June 2005
By the time I arrived here I was so so so tired. In the last four
days I had had about 12 hours of sleep. This day I woke at 1am,
walked for six hours out of the canyon, packed my bike, jumped
on and rode for Las Vegas normally a five hour ride away.My clutch
plates were slipping, and my accelerator cable had just snapped,
now relying only on the pull cable. I was maxing at 70kms an hour.
Took me eight hours. Hoover Damn. Snapped a photo, quizzed some
Hells Angels on Harley's where the nearest petrol station was,
"Hey buddy, where you from?" with my sapped energy I
squeezed out "Australia, see ya" and kept on cruising
hitting speed of up to 40kms an hour up the hills. Mind numbing
speeds. NOTE: I don't have a map, I just pick a road and start
riding. But riding into Las Vegas when you don't have a map looking
for a place called SIN CITY HOSTEL. That was all the info I had,
and thanks to my last few years of being lost in random cities
I found it within 20minutes, right on South Las Vegas B'lvd, number
1208. I then managed get coaxed into a night on the town. Sleep
weak. I managed a solid night out, returning home and finally
falling asleep at 9:30am the next day. In 120 hours I totalled
12 hours sleep. Almost a record.
Return
to top...
Colorado
Mesa Verde, June 2005
From around 800DC the Amerindians built their homes in the shelter
of caves with the Grand Canyon. Farming crops such as corn and
squash (part of their staple diet) on the Mesas above. Often travelling
hours for water, necessary for survival. A thirty year drought
pushed them from their homes a few hundred years later when the
Hopi's moved further south into New Mexico and Arizona.
Mesa Verde, June 2005
The interior of one their houses. All wood used in the building
of their Adobe houses is original. There was virtually no humidity.
Many tools and pottery were left behind. I had been obsessed with
these cliff dwellings since seeing them in a National Geopgraphic
magazine years back.
Mesa Verde, June 2005
The Quebec Posse down in Mesa Verde for part of their 30 day whirlwind
tour. The fine gent in the picture has visited every single state
in the USA with the exception of two.
Mesa Verde, June 2005
Another Mesa Verde cliff dwelling.
Durango, Colorado, June 2005
Some fine super organic hippy farmers from Durango make the best
food in the whole wide world. I am always hunting for good energy
good. Most meals give me substantial energy for 2-3hours. The
food they make at Turtle Lake Refuge is all organic andthe best
energy food I have eaten in years. Before leaving I stuffed all
the space in my panniers with their homegrown goodness. So you
understand the goodness involved, the ingredients of my Homemade
Dried Granola includes: oats, almonds or hazelnuts, figs, buckwheat
groats, sunflower seeds, flax seeds, tahini, honey and cinnamon.
And yeah.. they have a really cool house.
Durango, Colorado, June 2005
A small part of the Turtle Lake Refuge Crew. Their mission: To
celebrate the connection between personal health and wild lands.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
My road trip from Durango took me down the Million Dollar highway,carving
its path through 10,000foot peaks, past such famous places as
Aspen. My guide for the journey Miss Mouse since living here has
rubbed shoulders with many of the rich and famous, like Bill Gates
and his family. Once unknowingly babysitting his little ones.
Vail, Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June
2005The landscape slides from snow capped mountains to
lower foothills covered in green. The blue sky booming its azure
rays over the overwhelming landscape.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
Miss Mouse and I heading for Vail, Colorado. We had just indulged
in a 70's impromptu hippy frisbee session. Hence my stylin blue
Pat Cash style bandana and three dollar sunnies.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
Snowcapped peaks swap you on all sides. Many people die here in
the winter time from, snow storms, avalanches and roads caving
in under the mighty power of the snow and ice that runs this part
of the world.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
For road side energy snacks I eat dried strips of Jack Jink's
Turkey Jerks. One bite of a good Jerk and there is no turning
back. Get it now. Turkey Jerks. Take a Jerk by the hand and lead
it to the promised land.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
The most visually appealing mining silo's I have ever seen
in my life.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
Another view of these visually appealing silo's.
Million Dollar Highway, Colorado, June 2005
I could't stop taking photos. Some type of digitally induced addiction.
So here is my pretty mug reflecting on my experiences of the day.
Return
to top...
Arizoning
Tombstone, Arizona, June 2005
The cemetery was definately the most exciting part of Tombstone.
Lots of cool stories. Shame I can't remember any of them to tell
you. But they were really good stories. Really good. But I don't
remember any. But they were really good.
Tombstone, Arizona, June 2005
Guns ablazin' comedy, original storyline cowboys fightin'
for tha bank rolls. This was one of the shittiest performances
I have ever seen. Almost as bad as the circus I was in years ago.
Four bucks for what? Nuthin; I tell ya. Nuthin'.
Tombstone, Arizona, June 2005
In Tombstone Big Nose Kates Saloon (former girilfriend of Doc
Holiday) still rocks at midday. An impromptu table top guitar
solo rocked the Kasbar. Followed up by a 6 foot 6 cowboy with
his own distinctive style of country/yodel/rockabilly dance techniques.
His 3 foot 3 girlfriend was bewildered by her towering hunk spending
most of her time dodging between his legs.
Tombstone, Arizona, June 2005
Hanging out in Tombstone (made a movie about this town, remember
Doc Holliday?), you come across all walks of life, colour, race
and creed. You also get all sorts of motorbikes.
Tucson, Arizona, June 2005
The boys from Mussellmans Honda in Tuscon Arizona. The welcomed
me into the workshop like one of the gang. They helped work on
my bike, stuff my face will all kinds of goodness and sent me
off with a smile on my face. One of the oldest Honda dealers in
the Americas. One of the oldest in the world!
Tucson, Arizona, June 2005
Scott gave me my first ever ride on a Harley Davidson. And Scott
had his first ride on a totally arsed Honda. My ride was smooth.
I felt sorry for Scott having ride my bike. "Right, Scott,
the handlebars are bent so don't look down, keep the rev's up
at lights because the choke is broken, ignore all of the rattling
noises - just broken body parts and you may have problems finding
neutral because.... but other than that enjoy yourself."
Tucson, Arizona, June 2005
Ric turned Pro at 16. He has lived the high life, low life,
mid-life and mid-wife. Still standing through various enduro racing
injuries here with his pride and joy, a personally autograph Penton
by Penton himself. An awesome mechanic from Mussellmans Honda,
who lives with two extremely crazy dogs and about 15 motorbikes
in his garage, shed and backyard. I am sure he will kick on for
many years more. Instead of riding the highway to work he prefers
to launch himself into the surrounding dry sandy riverbeds and
tear it up on the dirt. Thankyou Ric for all your help and introducing
me to On Any Given Sunday (awesome moto doco) and Jim Beam with
Mountain Dew.
Tuscon, Arizona, June 2005
Scott and Connie. Two awesome kids that I met in Fortuna,Costa
Rica a few months back. "If you come to Tuscon, Arizona,
drop in!" so I did. I ended up staying a week. It was like
having a foster family. Some of the nicest people I have met on
my journey thus far.
To view Alaska photos please click
image. They are located on another page.
Return
to top...
