25th May
I miss the desert. The PCH is beautiful, but it’s crowded (comparatively) and expensive (like most of California). I ride down the coast for a while, ending up in the eucalyptus groves at Morro Bay State Park…
I meet up with Bob, a retired supermarket manager who, at 73, spends a few months of his retirement each year acting as a Camp Ground volunteer – a sort of general helper and liaison between the public and the Park Rangers.
He’s taking a break with his dog Max, who was originally trained to be a guide dog for the blind, but had to have his tail docked (because it was malformed & he kept crapping on it). The Guide Dogs Association apparently decided that too many people would make a fuss of him, asking his owner what happened to the tail, and so he got expelled…
After a last look at the Pacific…
I head inland towards Mojave. I’m in arid countryside almost immediately – California is really a desert state with a lush arable coastal strip…
…I stop for lunch at Tina’s Diner in the oil town of Maricopa. Tina’s from the Philippines and makes a pretty fair chilli-burger and salad.
I head back on the Mojave road, where there is a stark difference between land that is being irrigated…
…and that which isn’t…
I join I58 for a while and suddenly come across a long tail back. It’s legal to filter (lane-split) in California, a fact that I take advantage of, weaving my way through several miles of stationary traffic, before stopping about a quarter of a mile from the source of the hold up, an overturned RV. I stop alongside a couple on a R1150R – it turns out they (I have, of course, forgotten their names
) are ADVRiders and are on their honeymoon! I open a bottle of Sierra Mist (lemonade) by way of celebration and manage to soak everyone within 10 metres - (note to self – 130 miles of vibration & a 2000ft increase in altitude will probably do this every time). Predictably, as soon as we start chatting & drinking, the CHP get the road clear and we set off. They peel off at the first junction to re-fuel – hopefully I’ll hear from them again, as I gave them one of my cards…
I’m soon off the Interstate and on the back roads leading through a forest of wind turbines towards Mojave…
It’s a strange and almost spooky landscape – there are literally thousands of windmills – you can imagine more appearing overnight, like Starbucks…
Apparently this wind farm produces more power than all the other wind farms in the USA combined…
I ride down into Mojave. The Airport here is home to dozens of ‘mothballed’ airliners…
The airport is home to Burt Rutan, an aviation designer and entrepreneur. He financed the start of his company by renting parking spaces for airliners – the climate is perfect for this. Rutan designs and builds radical aircraft – mostly using modern composite materials and often using canard designs. He’s probably best known for designing & building the Voyager – an aircraft which, in December 1986, flew non-stop & un-refuelled around the world…
I check into a cheap motel for the night and clean lemonade off the mirror, the crashbars, the crankcase, my gloves, my visor…
I miss the desert. The PCH is beautiful, but it’s crowded (comparatively) and expensive (like most of California). I ride down the coast for a while, ending up in the eucalyptus groves at Morro Bay State Park…
I meet up with Bob, a retired supermarket manager who, at 73, spends a few months of his retirement each year acting as a Camp Ground volunteer – a sort of general helper and liaison between the public and the Park Rangers.
He’s taking a break with his dog Max, who was originally trained to be a guide dog for the blind, but had to have his tail docked (because it was malformed & he kept crapping on it). The Guide Dogs Association apparently decided that too many people would make a fuss of him, asking his owner what happened to the tail, and so he got expelled…
After a last look at the Pacific…
I head inland towards Mojave. I’m in arid countryside almost immediately – California is really a desert state with a lush arable coastal strip…
…I stop for lunch at Tina’s Diner in the oil town of Maricopa. Tina’s from the Philippines and makes a pretty fair chilli-burger and salad.
I head back on the Mojave road, where there is a stark difference between land that is being irrigated…
…and that which isn’t…
I join I58 for a while and suddenly come across a long tail back. It’s legal to filter (lane-split) in California, a fact that I take advantage of, weaving my way through several miles of stationary traffic, before stopping about a quarter of a mile from the source of the hold up, an overturned RV. I stop alongside a couple on a R1150R – it turns out they (I have, of course, forgotten their names
) are ADVRiders and are on their honeymoon! I open a bottle of Sierra Mist (lemonade) by way of celebration and manage to soak everyone within 10 metres - (note to self – 130 miles of vibration & a 2000ft increase in altitude will probably do this every time). Predictably, as soon as we start chatting & drinking, the CHP get the road clear and we set off. They peel off at the first junction to re-fuel – hopefully I’ll hear from them again, as I gave them one of my cards…
I’m soon off the Interstate and on the back roads leading through a forest of wind turbines towards Mojave…
It’s a strange and almost spooky landscape – there are literally thousands of windmills – you can imagine more appearing overnight, like Starbucks…
Apparently this wind farm produces more power than all the other wind farms in the USA combined…
I ride down into Mojave. The Airport here is home to dozens of ‘mothballed’ airliners…
The airport is home to Burt Rutan, an aviation designer and entrepreneur. He financed the start of his company by renting parking spaces for airliners – the climate is perfect for this. Rutan designs and builds radical aircraft – mostly using modern composite materials and often using canard designs. He’s probably best known for designing & building the Voyager – an aircraft which, in December 1986, flew non-stop & un-refuelled around the world…
I check into a cheap motel for the night and clean lemonade off the mirror, the crashbars, the crankcase, my gloves, my visor…
