Day 20-23 La Paz --> Ferry to Mazatlan
La Paz Condensed
La Paz has been a great stop, both super productive and increadibly fun. Day one we all got a decently early start and took off to collect parts and services. We all had a list of stuff we either wanted to take care of or pick up, and for the most part I think think it was a big success. Frenchie and I went looking for a leather shop to get me riding pants repaired -- If you'll recall I slid no less then a hundred feet on me arse resulting in a shreddered seat on my pants. Ran to a few places each suggesting another, but no luck, so we switched gears and headed over to a local moto shop where I found slime for my tubes, a new tube and a used front tire that had nearly 80% of its tread left for only 200 pesos or roughly 17 dollars, good effing deal. Also, we aranged to have them straighten out and de-twat my rim from when I hit the rock. Oh and get this, there was an expat working in the shop who recognized Frenchie's accent and started speaking french to him. As it goes, he was on a bike (no motor) tour from Mexico to Canada and liked La Paz so much that when he completed his trip, returned and never left.
After the bike shop we set out looking for a welder so I could get my cracked pannier frame repaired. After some searching we found a mechanic shop that said it would be no problem. Within 5 min of pulling in there were three mechanics working on my frame, and no less than 10 min after that I had a newly welded sold rack. While I was there I decided I would attend to a few other things as they offered me all the space and tools I needed. Ended up moving my horns, requiring creating new brackets, drilling a few new holes and gathering the necessary hardware (which they had all in shop). I also wanted to add spaces to two attatchment points on the rack to straighten the camber of my boxes out a bit (recall, I've now fallen on both sides having bent both in and causing my boxes to tilt). I asked if they had anything that would work, and they said they did, so I thought the just had some on hand. One of them ran to the back where I imagined that all the nuts and bolts were; really it was where the metal lathe was and they actually spun a custom spacer to the dimensions I needed.... increadible. They also had on hand several bolts I needed to replace that had rattled loose somewhere along the road. All in all I probably spent about two hours their, and the whole time three mechanics were buzzing around my bike helping me. It felt like I had a mechanic support team, HA! After sorting everything out I nervously asked the shop owner what the damage was, to which he replied, get this, "nothing". For the welding, and handfull of miscellaneous nuts and bolts, custom spacers and three mechanics time he didn't want a peso. All he asked was that I leave a tip for the mechanics, which I gladly did. Felt really great, awesome people. The shop owner also pointed us in the direction of a little custom shoe and leather shop in a house down the street... went there and it was exactly what we needed. My pants and jacket (had a hole in it as well) would be ready tomorrow.
That evening we cruised down to the waterfront for a bit, then Steve and I found a Hookah bar in La Paz Mexico, owned by an Italian guy from Naples. Afterwards, thought we were heading home but ran in too a couple from Belingham (the guy was actually from Russia, but married a B-Ham girl) traveling around in their van. Super fun people, had a beer and ended up going dancing for a bit. Fun night
The Next morning was filled with internet, wrenching, and early beers. I ran into a friend Esteban and I had met while in Santa Rosalia, who was couch surfing around mex and central am. She was with two others who were doing esentially the same tour as us though on bicycles. We all grabbed lunch and went back to the courtyard of the hotel and had a few beers. I napped, ralleyed and then we all went out for Halloween in La Paz. Beers, Dancing, Hilarity. Lots of fun, didn't get in till 5 in the morning.
Slightly HOed (Hangover = HO), but not terrible, grabbed breakfast, and a ferry ticket, which took forever (mucho paper work). Our ferry was to depart at 5. I then ran back to the hotel, gathered all my stuff and packed my bike up.
A note about the hotel: Really cool place, lots of travelers from all over, let us park our bikes in the courtyard and wrench like made. As for the room, wow, we destroyed that place, so sorry for whomever had to clean it. Perhaps it would be better just to quarntine off that room and burn it to the ground... 5 stinky dirty, greasy, overlanders all in varying stages of gastro-intestinal distress. Honestly it was disgusting, but hilllllllarious if you like poo humor. Colin actually got another room to himself on the second night as it was to much for him to handle. Even better was the auditory effect of a window that wouldn't close that opened to the courtyard. Sitting in the courtyard, you may as well have sat next to whomever was ashemedly destroying the toilet at that moment.
Anyways, after getting packed up I took off to meet the boys that were already at the ferry (about 20 miles away). As I was leaving town I had my first encounter with the local policia, and it played out exactly like every story I had heard about how crooked the cops down here are. First thing out his mouth was license, which being late for the ferry and flustered, I hand over without protest (first mistake). He proceeded to tell me that I was speeding and swerving (I was actually testing my tires, nothing exceptional), and that he would have to write me a ticket for both and they were "expensive tickets". Well, they didn't have a radar and I was actually being passed by the rest of traffic. I apologized effusively and told him I was late for my boat (mistake number two), now he had my license and knew I was in a hurry. It was at this point he told me we could settle it right here and save me the trouble.........for $1500 pesos.... WTF!!!!!!!! That's like 120ish dollars. No effing way. I argued with him for about ten minutes, and he kept dropping his price, all but still around 600 pesos, lots of $$ to me. It was at this time that a gringo on a turqouise KLR came riding up. Apparently he saw me get pulled over from his multi-million dollar home up on the hill from where I was stopped, jumped on his bike and zoomed down. He addressed me first, "How you doing, are the giving you a hard time?" To which I responded "Yea, sorta getting worked by these two and I'm late for my boat." I'll save you all the details, but basically after about 5 more min of him talking to them and making a few phone calls, I had my license back, was on the way to the ferry, and didn't have to open my wallet. I didn't even get the guys name, but THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.
I got to the ferry terminal, just as they were loading up the motorcycles, perfect. Quite a relief to get on the boat and relax. Calling the our vessel a ferry is a grevious misnomer. In actuality it was a small cruise ship with room for cars. It had a pool, a bar, a videogame room, a cafeteria, a nice resturant, shops, etc. In-effing-credible sunset, watched a bunch of Trailer Park Boys (if you've never seen it, do yourself a favor and go to Veoh right now and watch it) on Spence's laptop, got some food and slept out on the deck of the ferry, while the others slept inside.
Day 24 Mazatlan --> San Blas
Woke up round 7 on the deck, just as we were just approaching Mazatlan. After unloading we grabbed a bite and got out of the big, dirty city as quick as we could. Put down about 200 some odd miles before we arrived in San Blas.
What an beautiful little city. First time we got some dinner at a little resturant that I would end up eating at no less then 5 times before I left two days later. Great food, the best camarones I have ever had hands down. Then walked around the square for a bit, which was decorated for Dia de los Muertos (day of the dead), really cool. I strolled into a rad little bar, "San Blas Social Club), which would become my living room for the next couple of days. It is without hesitation one of the coolest little bars I've been to anywhere in the world. It was full of local ex-pats, who gave me some Beta about where to camp, and what to see. There I also met the owner of the bar Augustine, a gentleman from New York who splits his time between the city and San Blas, and Pernaldo, his bartender and bar manager. I can't say enough about these two, genuinely good and cool people. If your ever anywhere near San Blas, go, and take a seat at the S.B. Social Club.
Day 25 San Blas (Gonna fill this in more when I have a moment)
Day 26
Last night was a bit rough, hot humid, and swarms of insufferable wee mosquitos and no-see-ums. Felt more like diner (me being the main course) than rest. Apparently I had been sharing my tent with a few mosquitos last night, as I woke up with no less than 40-50 new welts and at least 4 blood gorged, too fat to fly much less move out of the way when I swated them, buggies. Honestly we should do away with mosquitos, what a bunch of a-holes! Yeah yeah, circle of life yea... I'd gladly throw out a few handfuls of bird seed or whatever to make up for their place.
Anywho, David, Marco and I packed up camp and went into town for coffee and breakfast at the social club. On the way in I stopped of and a local banana bread shop, got a loaf con nuts, and a homemade yoguret fruit (jackfruit, mangos, and apple) and granola parfait. The bread was still warm having come out of the oven less than ten minutes before, utterly delicious. Made a few calls, checked emails, and bunches of coffee the social club. After saying our goodbyes to Augustine and Pernaldo (thank you for your gracious hospitality, we'll definatly return) we set out for Tequila in Jalisco, Mexico.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful mile ticking, though all in all a mere 100 or so. We didn't quite make it to Tequila as it was quickly getting dark, instead we poached a spot down an old abondoned road of the highway, setting up camp in an old crumbling little structure (maybe an old house or perhaps resturant?). Though now the area seems to be fenced off for pastre, bunch of cows milling arount who seem more than a little wierded out by the three crazy gringos camping in their grazing area. We cautiously fenced ourselves in with our bikes so as not to get awoke by a curious bovine. Just outside of town we got some realllllly good tostadas de camarones, with a homemade habenero salsa that just about burned my lips off. Can't get enough of the seafood, sooooo goood and sooo cheap (two giant tostadas for 30 pesos (about $2 US).
Buenos Noches, Gelb ---> Out
27 Camped outside Guad Next to pigs (Gonna fill this in more when I have a moment)
28 Met Ian in Guad, David Got a tire, watched that new John Dillinger movie with Johnny Dep (Gonna fill this in more when I have a moment)
29 Ian took me to get another x-ray and a small cast at the Red Cross in Lake Chapala, then a little tour around the city as well as the rad little neighboring town of Aijijic. Got back to the house, decided to stay another night and all three of us did a bunch of maintenance on the Bikes. That night we went back into Aijijc to Tom's Bar, got some drinks and a bunch of interneting in. (Gonna fill this in more when I have a moment)
Woke up to Sunday mass being held in Ian's party hall, kinda funny/odd. We were quite the spectacle for the church goers as we packed up and prepped our bikes. Got a shower in (ahhh! nice) gathered our air dryed laundry, watched some mythbusters, and headed back into Aijijic for breakfast. After breakfast we thanked Ian and said our goodbyes, definatly will stay in touch (Thanks for everything Ian, you were an endlessly gracious host, as well as great company). We actually made some ground for a change, about 155 miles to be exact. Set up camp in a field, cooked diner, looked at some maps and caught up on a bunch of blogging. Buggy as all get out. As I am typing this I can count.... 7 bugs of various species crawling across my screen, thats not counting all the bugs crawling on me. Well, gonna read some and call it a night. We're gonna try and make some serious miles tomorrow and maybe even catch up to the others. Night.
Gelb ---> Out
Day 30 Dew Bomb
Holy eff, woke up to dew covering absolutely everything. Everything was soaked. We even had the foresight to set up a tarp between our bikes, covering our sleeping area, which helped a bit but the volume of dew was so great that it would drip from the tarp on to us in the middle of the night. Well, despite everything being wet we packed up, cooked a bit of oatmeal and set off. Ahead of us we had laid a fairly ambitious day. We were going to try to make it to the other boys about 300 miles down the coast.
By noon we had already made about 150 miles, but the last half of the day would be a bit different. We stopped just outside of Manzanillo for some tacos, really really good bbq pork tacos, that was around 1. We had been informed that the road got a bunch more twisty from there on out, but we had no idea. Twisty doesn't even come close to descibing this road, it was more like a curly-cue vomitoriam. I reckon I spent more time on the side of my tires then the center. Must have been perpendicular to the road less than 10 percent of the time. Some turns I thought we were going to turn back on ourselves, it felt as though we were going in circles. While it is more fun to be in the twisties on a motorbike, after about two hours of constant hairpins it begins to loose its luster, and gradually slides from thrilling to exhausting. Though, let me say this, the sceanery was unimaginably gorgeous. Mammoth, sheer cliffs covered in dense jungle plunging into crashing oceans, quite something. Its been striking how fast the flora and fauna has changed so dramatically as well as rapidly as we head south. From stark desert in the North of Mexico, to the dense jungle cliffs of Manzanillo. OHhh! And I saw my first roadkill lizard along the way today, must've been at least a foot and a half long and about 5 pounds. Also, a dead horse, two dead skunks, a dead cow and a bifurcated snake. Solid day as far as roadkill is concerned.
Funny sidenote: We stopped for a break from the twist and turns at unbelivable vista. While we we're there a truck full of mid-twenty year olds pulled up to talk to us and offer us a beer. We chatted for awhile and they ended up inviting us down to the beach for a party, but we had to decline as we had a bunch more miles to go today. But the funniest/oddest part was that one of them had a Seattle shirt on.... Ha! I got a picture with him, you can see it on the Picasa site.
Around 5, exhausted from the road behind, we pulled over for a rest, which just happend to be at an empty "eco resort" if you can call it that. Not quite a resort but on gorgeous none-the-less. I bargained the owner down from 150 pesos to 100 pesos for three campers, as there wasn't a single other person staying there. She said we could stay in any of the three little covered areas along the beach, each with their own hammocks. I was really excited to sleep in a hammock for the night... I wouldn't have to pull out all my stuff, and I love sleeping in them. There were two hammocks there, but when I asked for a third, she informed me that the hammock would be another 50 pesos per person!!!! So less than 35 per person to stay in the little pagoda, but if you wanted to use the hammocks that were already there it was going to be another 50?? Whatever... It was clear that she had just made that up to try and get a few more pesos out of us. Though we did have a great dinner: carne de mexicana, con papas fritas y frijoles, and a grande sized cerveza. Good night, and lucky finding such a rad spot just as we were ready to stop. Oh, and, so clearly we didn't make it all the way South to the boys, but we did crush 235 miles despite going no more than 35 for the last half of the day. Buenos tardes....
Gelb ----> Out!
Day 31
Not much happend today save for a morning full of more bananas-crazy-curves and a bunch more miles, 130 miles, not exceptional, butr decent. Oh, which reminds me, most of those miles were put down in the morning on our way to Lazaro Cardenas where we were to meet Steve and Spence, but neither of us recieved any email from them so we were unable to find them. So, we got all our stuff together for a solid afternoon of miles, but just as we were leaving the net-cafe, I noticed a broken link on my chain. At just over 10,000 miles on the stock chain, after a bit of discussion I decided it best to replace my chain, and thus my sprokets as well. I had hoped that the stock chain would've made it a bit further, maybe Central America or even the first bit of S. America, but with a broken link it would be foolish to push on risking possible crankcase damage, or worse rear wheel lock up.
In order to do the swap we had to find a way of breaking my stock chain. We tried a few shops, looking, albeit unsuccessfully, for a proper grinder to grind the pins off before a gentleman offered to take us to a shop where they had one................ FUCKING OWWW!!!
Allow me to digress, as I was writing this, as on many other nights of blogging while rough camping there are crap-loads of bugs everywhere, all of which are attracted to our screens and headlamps. Haven't really though much of it, until just now... I set my hand down for just a second and something has bitten or maybe stung me on my finger. I feel that I have a fairly high tolerance for pain, but that effing HURT! Felt like I got poked with a red hot needle.... and its still burning. Didn't see what it was, hopefully I don't swell up like the state puff marshmellow man. I'll keep you posted. Which come to think of it reminds me of something else that happened this morning as we were riding. Stuff is always hitting us in the face, neck, hands, ankles, whatever as we're riding, most of it dust off of overloaded trucks or small bits of road debris. But this morning as we were going about 65 down a straight flat road, something hit me square in the neck and then started hurting like crazy. Apparently I had hit a bee, which was just as surprised as I, and it started stinging me in the neck... three times! Good thing I'm not alergic to this kind of thing.
Anyways back to my story. We found a shop with a grinder, though at first the brought out a chisel and a block of wood; needless to say this didn't work so I asked again for a grinder from a next door mechanic. Thankfully he had one and the chain and sprockets, with David and Marco's help, were sorted shortly afterwards, though it had taken about and hour and a half.
With not much time left to ride we got back on the road and headed South. When we stopped for water two other overlanders spotted us and pulled over. They were both originally from Urugauy but living in Virgina. When work went South the decided to hope on their bikes and do the same. Though they were on a tighter budget and shorter time frame...considerably. They had made it from Virgina to the where I was, which has taken thirty some odd days, in just 8! Well we exchanged stories for a bit and decided to all find camping together. About 45 min more driving we found an incredible little beach called La Saladita. Had a few beers and tons of good conversation, slept, or tried to sleep in hammocks, but they were the cheap variety, and in the middle of the night, one by one, each of us ended up getting our sleeping bags out and sleeping on the ground. I bid you a good evening sir!
Day 32
Wow what a day... I'll fill this in a couple day, lots of writting to do. I'll have to devote some serious time to this entry, stay tuned.
Day 33 -- Feliz Cuplianos a Mi!
Between the Benedryl and that exhastion from last night I slept super hard, though David said he kept thinking about snakes and was a bit restless. I still had all the syptoms from the bite, though lesser severity. Still had tingling all over and my finger was burning like crazy. Well, we packed up and headed to the net cafe to check our emails once more for word from the boys. Spence was all sorted and heading as far South as he could that day. Being only 60 or so miles behind us in Lazaro Cardenas, and it already being 10 in the morning, he had surely already passed us.
Got on the road around 10:30, rode. Stopped, ate, road, stopped, gas, road and rode. Made it to Acopulco, tried our best to B-line through it but its a dense city, lots of traffic and terrrrrible drivers, especially the Taxi's (more and more I am finding this to be an international standard). By the time we got through I was at my wits end. Headed out of town Marco spotted another overlander heading in the opposite direction waving at as. Pulled over, and sure enough Spencer came round the corner. Spence was supposed to meet Steve in Acopulco, where he had been waiting for his Title, but despite showing up at all 4 Starbucks, was unable to locate him, kinda weird. Exchanged a few exciting roadside stories before heading out to look for camping.
We thought we would find camping in San Marcos, but when we got there it was a fair sized city, no camping, so we got a cheap hotel room. Hungry we headed out for tacos, but first I made a stop by the mini-super and got a bottle of decent Tequila for my birthday. Tacos, beers, tequila and me mates, en mexico, couldn't ask for a better birthday. Only thing better would've been to see all my people and family at home, but this was pretty rad. Thank you for all the warm birthday wishes, miss you all!
Day 34 Effing Topes!
Staying up late, tequila, beers, and mucho tacos made for a late start. Had a nice slow morning, 2 showers (sooooo hot and sweaty), and we we're on the road by noon. Today was fullllll of Topes (speed bumps), very effective at slowing progress. Despite being the main southern highway, every time the road passes through a town there are a series of monster speed bumps/humps/lumps/giant mounds. All day I don't think we were going 60+ mph for more than 10-15 minutes at a time before we went through another city and we're slowed down to a crawl. All told we made about 180 miles today, not bad. Still no word from Steve, we'll check our emails again manana. Found yet another sweet spot on the beach, pretty tired. We'll talk tomorrow!
Gelb ---> Outro
16 November 2009
11 November 2009
NEEED WIFI!!!
Ive got a bunch of blogging stuck on my computer, but I cant load it at most of these net spots. I will post soon as I can. Lots of funny stories. Adios.
30 October 2009
Push it Along...
Day 14 -- eeeeffFFFF!
Awoke to a gorgeous purple and orange sunrise, packed up and were on the road as planned by 8a, however that road only lasted the 1/4 mile to the small grocery where we returned our beer bottles, bought bunches of water for the long, hot day ahead, and found Colin's rear flat, Efff!. All in all it took around 2ish hours for a proper repair, and by that time everybody was pretty antsy to get some miles behind us, however 5 min after taking off I dropped my glove, stopped for about 5 sec to grab it, and in that time the guys turned, i missed it and drove 25 miles in the wrong directions! Double eff. Turned around found the guys, now we were all together heading in the right direction everything sorted out.
The road South of El Puertocito turns to dirt about 7 miles down and is supposed to be absolutely breathtaking. The 7 miles before the dirt are brand new buttery smooth asphault overlooking the Sea of Cortez, we effortless cruised at 60-65ish. The views were truly enthralling, which is probably why I failed to notice the grapefruit sized rock that had fallen into the middle of the otherwise featureless, glassy tarmac. Well, I hit that rock. Efffffff x3! I bobbled a little but quickly straightened out. I was in control just long enough to consider that the impact seemed hard enough that it may have blown my front tire, at which time my front tire blew. For those of you reading this that don't have experience riding a motorcycle, when you lose your front you pretty much lose control (and for those of you with moto-sperience, if any of you have any advice I'd love to hear it). Anyways, I ended up falling and subsequently skidding for 150ft or so, my aluminum panniers leaving a quite legible/measureable skidmark. After coming to a stop a quick apraisal of myself showed all ten fingers and toes and everything in the right place facing the right direction, after which I jumped up, ran over to my bike and stood it up. As for my bike, I had a pretty bent up pannier sub-frame, one broken weld, a scratched/ground down box, lost my hood ornament, gound down my left handgaurd, and some wonky handlebars. Once we got my bike to the side of the road I sat down caught my breath. My left hand had some pretty good road rash, and now I noticed that my right wrist was getting sore. Frenchie irrigated and cleaned my left and wrapped both, while Colin made me a nice shady spot to re-coop while the other boys fixed my tire for me. Seriously good guys.
Mounted back up, limped to the closest food spot where the only thing on the menu was hot dogs... never tasted so good. New plan: Frenchie, Spence, and Colin would rally and go on ahead with the dirt road, while Steve volunteered (awesome friend) to return north to San Felipe to accompany me and get some X-rays, or en espanol Rayos-X.
Back in San Felipe found the local "motocross orthopeadist" (read:highly specialized, or so I thought). Anyways took dos rayos-x o's and according to him, there was no break just a sprain, so take it easy for a couple weeks and I should be fine. Trouble is, I was looking at the same X-ray and (caveat emptor: with certainty, I'm no docotor....BUT) I saw a fracture, not a small unnoticeable fracture, a legit in your face fracture. Having broken my scaphoid in my left wrist and looked at a shit ton of X-rays during my treatment, it seemed plain as day to me. Of course my first instinct was "well shit, he says I'm fine so lets go!". However, stupid rationality told me to get a second opinion. Fortunately my dear Uncle Rob (Dobber) whom we stayed with on the way down is an orthopedic hand surgeon in San Diego, so I took a picture with my camera of my x-ray while holding it up to the sun (see photos), emailed it to him and despite the several analog and digital recreations and transmissions, he wrote me back within 20 minutes informing me that I haid a waist scaphoid fracture. Sorta changes everything..... I'll save you the thought process, but after MUCHO MUCHO consideration and phone calls and consultation I've decided to get a spica splint, calcium supplements and Arnica rub, take it easy, give my wrist the best possible chance at healing while on the road, and push ahead... this trip means AALLLOOOOOTTT to me, experience, perspective shifting, GROWTH. A month or two down the road I'll get another rayos-x, and make my decision at that point. If my wrist shows signs of healing, I'm going all the way, if not (suck) I'll have to call it come home and get fixed. In the meantime, like I said, give my wrist the best possible chance of healing and enjoy the shit out of this incredible journey.
That night, we found camping on the beach just North of town, again, gorgeous. Ate diner at the bar in camp, met Diane, Sam (retired, living in San Felipe, from Seattle), their two daughters, and friends. They insisted we join them, bought us a couple beers, and ended up inviting us to their early Thanksgiving diner manana. How could we refuse, its not like we would get Thanksgiving otherwise. Great people.
Day 15 -- Faith in the human race restored
Woke up to yet another incredible sunrise, grabbed breakfast, went into town to use the net. While using the net, my front went flat again, and while repairing said flat on the main strip of San Felipe, yet another incredible offer. Mac starting asking us about our journey and our plans, ended up offering us his SPARE beach front condo to stay in for the night, fully laid with wall sized plasma, tons of DVDs, shower, beds, and all tequila (nice tequila, way nicer than our budgets at home much less on the road could afford). Anyways, soooOOoOoo glad we stayed another night. We made it over to Sam and Diane's for Thanksgiving not knowing what to expect. Unreal.... Bunch of their rad ex-pat friends, many of them having been traveling for most of their lives, as well as playing guitar and song.... dylan, morrison, eagles, wow. Then diner.... legit Thanksgiving -- turkey, stuffing, homemade gravey, candied sweet potatoes. After saying our goodbyes, promising to return, we headed for a luxurious night at Sams ridiculous Condo. Had a bit o' fancy tequila, stella o tois, and massive plama Monty Python. Sleeeeep.
Day 16-19 -- Playing catch-up again
Given the condition of my wrist the dirt road to the south was out, so me and Steve were to head all the way back North to Ensenada, catch 1, and tear south after the boys, hoping to meet up in Bahia de Los Angeles. Nothing much happened the next few days save for lots of miles, a recurring and increadibly frustrating as well as nerve-wracking for both Steve and I front flat. Well actually, also some amaaaazing coastal views, and crazy Dr. Seussian landscape/flora/fauna. Missed the boys in Bahia De Los Angles, pushed hard the last day, got another flat, and ended up doing a night time burn into La Paz where we finaly caught up to the boys.... BIIIIIG relief to get to La Paz. Few days off our bikes, get some repairs done, relax and a ferry boat! That was waaay abbreviated, if I think of any good stories I'll be sure to add them in, oh and more pictures soon, probably tomorrow, though its been a little more difficult to take as many pictures given my injuries and the playing catch up, still rad though. Love LoveLove, miss you all... Gelb ---> Out
Awoke to a gorgeous purple and orange sunrise, packed up and were on the road as planned by 8a, however that road only lasted the 1/4 mile to the small grocery where we returned our beer bottles, bought bunches of water for the long, hot day ahead, and found Colin's rear flat, Efff!. All in all it took around 2ish hours for a proper repair, and by that time everybody was pretty antsy to get some miles behind us, however 5 min after taking off I dropped my glove, stopped for about 5 sec to grab it, and in that time the guys turned, i missed it and drove 25 miles in the wrong directions! Double eff. Turned around found the guys, now we were all together heading in the right direction everything sorted out.
The road South of El Puertocito turns to dirt about 7 miles down and is supposed to be absolutely breathtaking. The 7 miles before the dirt are brand new buttery smooth asphault overlooking the Sea of Cortez, we effortless cruised at 60-65ish. The views were truly enthralling, which is probably why I failed to notice the grapefruit sized rock that had fallen into the middle of the otherwise featureless, glassy tarmac. Well, I hit that rock. Efffffff x3! I bobbled a little but quickly straightened out. I was in control just long enough to consider that the impact seemed hard enough that it may have blown my front tire, at which time my front tire blew. For those of you reading this that don't have experience riding a motorcycle, when you lose your front you pretty much lose control (and for those of you with moto-sperience, if any of you have any advice I'd love to hear it). Anyways, I ended up falling and subsequently skidding for 150ft or so, my aluminum panniers leaving a quite legible/measureable skidmark. After coming to a stop a quick apraisal of myself showed all ten fingers and toes and everything in the right place facing the right direction, after which I jumped up, ran over to my bike and stood it up. As for my bike, I had a pretty bent up pannier sub-frame, one broken weld, a scratched/ground down box, lost my hood ornament, gound down my left handgaurd, and some wonky handlebars. Once we got my bike to the side of the road I sat down caught my breath. My left hand had some pretty good road rash, and now I noticed that my right wrist was getting sore. Frenchie irrigated and cleaned my left and wrapped both, while Colin made me a nice shady spot to re-coop while the other boys fixed my tire for me. Seriously good guys.
Mounted back up, limped to the closest food spot where the only thing on the menu was hot dogs... never tasted so good. New plan: Frenchie, Spence, and Colin would rally and go on ahead with the dirt road, while Steve volunteered (awesome friend) to return north to San Felipe to accompany me and get some X-rays, or en espanol Rayos-X.
Back in San Felipe found the local "motocross orthopeadist" (read:highly specialized, or so I thought). Anyways took dos rayos-x o's and according to him, there was no break just a sprain, so take it easy for a couple weeks and I should be fine. Trouble is, I was looking at the same X-ray and (caveat emptor: with certainty, I'm no docotor....BUT) I saw a fracture, not a small unnoticeable fracture, a legit in your face fracture. Having broken my scaphoid in my left wrist and looked at a shit ton of X-rays during my treatment, it seemed plain as day to me. Of course my first instinct was "well shit, he says I'm fine so lets go!". However, stupid rationality told me to get a second opinion. Fortunately my dear Uncle Rob (Dobber) whom we stayed with on the way down is an orthopedic hand surgeon in San Diego, so I took a picture with my camera of my x-ray while holding it up to the sun (see photos), emailed it to him and despite the several analog and digital recreations and transmissions, he wrote me back within 20 minutes informing me that I haid a waist scaphoid fracture. Sorta changes everything..... I'll save you the thought process, but after MUCHO MUCHO consideration and phone calls and consultation I've decided to get a spica splint, calcium supplements and Arnica rub, take it easy, give my wrist the best possible chance at healing while on the road, and push ahead... this trip means AALLLOOOOOTTT to me, experience, perspective shifting, GROWTH. A month or two down the road I'll get another rayos-x, and make my decision at that point. If my wrist shows signs of healing, I'm going all the way, if not (suck) I'll have to call it come home and get fixed. In the meantime, like I said, give my wrist the best possible chance of healing and enjoy the shit out of this incredible journey.
That night, we found camping on the beach just North of town, again, gorgeous. Ate diner at the bar in camp, met Diane, Sam (retired, living in San Felipe, from Seattle), their two daughters, and friends. They insisted we join them, bought us a couple beers, and ended up inviting us to their early Thanksgiving diner manana. How could we refuse, its not like we would get Thanksgiving otherwise. Great people.
Day 15 -- Faith in the human race restored
Woke up to yet another incredible sunrise, grabbed breakfast, went into town to use the net. While using the net, my front went flat again, and while repairing said flat on the main strip of San Felipe, yet another incredible offer. Mac starting asking us about our journey and our plans, ended up offering us his SPARE beach front condo to stay in for the night, fully laid with wall sized plasma, tons of DVDs, shower, beds, and all tequila (nice tequila, way nicer than our budgets at home much less on the road could afford). Anyways, soooOOoOoo glad we stayed another night. We made it over to Sam and Diane's for Thanksgiving not knowing what to expect. Unreal.... Bunch of their rad ex-pat friends, many of them having been traveling for most of their lives, as well as playing guitar and song.... dylan, morrison, eagles, wow. Then diner.... legit Thanksgiving -- turkey, stuffing, homemade gravey, candied sweet potatoes. After saying our goodbyes, promising to return, we headed for a luxurious night at Sams ridiculous Condo. Had a bit o' fancy tequila, stella o tois, and massive plama Monty Python. Sleeeeep.
Day 16-19 -- Playing catch-up again
Given the condition of my wrist the dirt road to the south was out, so me and Steve were to head all the way back North to Ensenada, catch 1, and tear south after the boys, hoping to meet up in Bahia de Los Angeles. Nothing much happened the next few days save for lots of miles, a recurring and increadibly frustrating as well as nerve-wracking for both Steve and I front flat. Well actually, also some amaaaazing coastal views, and crazy Dr. Seussian landscape/flora/fauna. Missed the boys in Bahia De Los Angles, pushed hard the last day, got another flat, and ended up doing a night time burn into La Paz where we finaly caught up to the boys.... BIIIIIG relief to get to La Paz. Few days off our bikes, get some repairs done, relax and a ferry boat! That was waaay abbreviated, if I think of any good stories I'll be sure to add them in, oh and more pictures soon, probably tomorrow, though its been a little more difficult to take as many pictures given my injuries and the playing catch up, still rad though. Love LoveLove, miss you all... Gelb ---> Out
25 October 2009
So … big blog dump… heres what I’ve got so far. More to come… Also, I’m finding out that uploading pictures to blogger is more difficult than I thought, but much easier on Picasa, so I’ve set up a separate page there that I will upload my photos. They should correspond to the blog fairly closely. Talk to you all soon!
Day 1 – Sunday, October 11, 2009
Finally left… two days behind at 8pm. Can’t believe I am actually doing this. Drove 5 min down the road to gas up and pick up a couple of things at Bartells, went inside for 5 min, came out and someone had dumped a diet coke on my brand new sheepskin seat cover. WTF!
Left Seattle, overwhelmed with excitement, tempered by the fact that I am leaving a lot of people and places I love at home. Immediately discovered I was underdressed. Stopped at rest stop to put on more gear, Freeeezing. Made it just South of Portland before I stopped to grab a late night greasy meal (jack in the box). Called Gianna for a place to stay in Bend, got in touch with Christen, but didn’t think I’d make it there. Still some 3 hours out. Got back on the road and… rode. And rode, and rode. Ended up going over Santiam Pass at about 2 AM, and around 14 degrees F. I quickly learned that all the heated grips, down jackets and thick riding socks in the world can’t keep you warm going 70 in 14 degree weather.
Made it just outside of Bend before deciding to poach a spot and call it a night. First spot I found ended up being a hunting cleaning area, and by cleaning I mean guts, bones, furs, EVERYWHERE. Drove on till I found a nice forested area, parked behind some trees out of view of the rode and set up camp. FREEEEZING. Still cold in the manana, but beautiful night.
Day 2 – Monday, October 12, 2009
Slept alright, heard some horses pretty close to the tent last night, weird. Ready to hit the road and make up some time. Then sputtering and gas issues. Try fixing a few times, even wheeled it up to mechanic. Called Spence, and he said sounded like I was out of gas. But I have a translucent gas tank and can clearly see that I have gas left. Decided to roll my bike to the gas station just down the street and fill up to see what happens, and sure enough started right up. Apparently because the bend in my fuel line arches just above the bottom of the tank there isn’t enough pressure to get to the last bit of gas. Though for what it’s worth, I made it from Seattle to Bend, OR on one tank.
All sorted out, I grab cup of coffee and make a few calls before jumping back on the road. Made it maybe 3 blocks and BANG, engines revving but I’m not going anywhere. Looking down I see metal shavings falling out of my counter-sprocket cover. I was expecting the worst, but after knocking on several doors and finding somebody with a proper socket set (I don’t have a full set since me and Steve have the same bike and are going to be sharing tools, but of course I am not yet caught up with him), I removed cover to find that my upper chain roller hand fallen out and got sucked into the cover, knocking off the chain and scratching up the retainer plate a bit (the metal shavings I saw), not too big of a deal, save for the fact that I didn’t have the necessary deep 8mm socket to get my counter-sprocket cover off. Ended up knocking on 5 doors before I found Greg, who had said socket. Thanks Greg!
Repaired, and then burned to Burns where I met Dirk. Awesome dude, let me use maps, wants to live on a boat and sail to the Bahamas. Pumped tires up and hit road, despite warnings of Deer, lots of deer. Scared I took it no more than 35 for a long time. Still no deer, no reflecting eyes no nothing. In fact, I didn’t see one the entire ride. Lots of field mice and jack rabbits though.
Finally made it to fields, but can’t find lake bed. By now it’s 1030ish and no one’s answering phones, and with the anemic directions Spence provided I’m clearly not going to find them tonight. Ended up camping on side of the road, only to wake up and now that it was light out I could clearly see the lake bed off in the distance. As I would learn tomorrow at breakfast, while I was freezing my tired road-weary ass off driving through the night to catch up, the boys were sitting in the Alvord hot springs drinking tall boys. Jerks.
Day 3 – Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Woke up around 7 this morning, poked my head out of the tent and now that it was light out I could clearly see the lake bed. Oh well. Packed up camp and headed to the only café/gas in town where I was going to finally meet up with the boys at 8am. Though it was nice to start out on my own and get my head around the trip as well as into it, it was great see the guys and get back as a group. After Steve, Spence and Frenchie pulled in around 8:30 we grabbed breakfast (decent greasy spoon diner fare) and sorted out our plans for the day. Apparently the forecast was not in our favor, calling for high winds and rain. Things were already getting pretty windy and since I hadn’t yet set the preload on my rear shock, causing my bike to sit low barely leaning on my side stand, while we were eating a gust of wind actually blew my bike over into Frenchie’s knocking it over as well. After gassing up and putting on all our cold weather gear we set out as four quickly closing in on the Arizona border.
After a bit of highway driving we got to the dirt road we were going to run that day. It was to be around 100 miles which we figured we would travel in about 3-4 hours. Wrong. So very wrong. Unbeknownst to us we were at the precipice of what would turn out to be quiet an epic (climbing speak for shit hitting the fan).
The first mistake was none but my own, as I had only one day of dirt riding experience, and none fully loaded with all my gear. The second was deciding to travel on dirt fully aware that there was a storm headed in. And third, was taking it a bit too fast along with a cheeky over confidence. Anyways, everyone was doing fairly well; the road was a bit loose and squirrely, a bit technical with plenty of twists and turns, but nothing to crazy. Then about 45 min in I came into a right hand corner a bit too fast, my back end got loose, sliding out then grabbing tossing the bike and I back the other way and from there I lost control crashing onto my right-side. It was without a doubt my hardest/fastest crash to date. Having separated from my bike I quickly jumped up ran over and killed the engine and stood it back up. I faired quite well considering my speed and all the rocks; the only injury to speak of was spraining my thumb. My bike on the other hand took a stout beating (or as David, our friend and fellow adventure rider from Liverpool would say, “I twatted me bike a good one”).
Damage Report: I tore off my heated grips switch with my thumb (how I sprained it), leaving an open hole in my control cluster; banged up one of my horns; thought I bent the shit out of my bars, but upon closer inspection it turned out it was my risers that shifted; tore off one of the straps holding my saddlebags on; and worst, I completely tore off one of my aluminum panniers and bent the rack up a bit. After regrouping for a minute I had to do some trailside fixing, beating my box kind of back into shape in order to get it to re-mount onto the rack, I tied off the torn saddlebag to my tank bag strap, as for the bars, I was just going to have to ride them until we got somewhere where I could sort them out. I was a bit bummed about banging up my bike and my confidence took a (well needed) thumping, but thankfully Spencer knew exactly how to cheer me and everyone up, producing from his jacket pocket 4 or 5 strips of bacon he had saved from breakfast. MMMMmmm Bacon. Somewhat put back together with the taste of bacon still in my mouth we pressed on.
Now the rain was picking up a bit and the soft dusty, sand was turning into the slipperiest silty slop-goop slowing us all way down and causing us all to almost loose it several times, but we needed to keep moving to make time and distance. With the road conditions deteriorating as fast as our pace, it became clear that we weren’t going to make it back to pavement before dark. Around dusk we all took a short break before tackling the last 40 or so miles. After riding for a bit, Spencer in front then me, we realized the other two weren’t behind us, which usually means somebody ditched or something broke. Hoping nobody was hurt we turned around and headed back. It wasn’t very long before Frenchie coming from the other direction pulled up beside me and pointed at the pannier he now had strapped to his rear rack. The first thought I had was “crap, Steve must have crashed too and tore his box off”. But Frenchie quickly corrected me, it was MY box! It had popped off because of the bent mounts, right in front of Steve who the hit it and luckily was able to ride it out.
One box less, cold and wet we steadily made tracks for another hour so, while it continued to rain, further turning the road into a slippery mess until just after dark Spencer got into a super soft muddy section lost control and crashed hard. Like my eelier crash, he was unhurt, but his bike… well, not so much. He thoroughly “twatted” his headlight housing and cage, bent his crash bars pretty well, and get this: sheered his ignition clean off. Long story short, we ended up having to do some roadside wiring in the pitch dark, while it was raining. After effectively hot wiring his bike, we took off again, though much slower. Thankfully we made it the last 15 miles or so without incident, though it took near an hour at between 10-15 mph.
Sooooo relieved when we finally got back to pavement around 10pm (we left the diner at around 11:30-noon) I jumped off my bike, got down, and kissed the sweet asphalt. Headed south, we limped the last 40 or so miles into Girlock (Sp?), AZ.
Now freezing, sopping wet, tired, battered and STARVING, we pulled into the first restaurant we found, but they were closed. EFF! So we walked into the attached bar to ask where to get some food. Perhaps it was because of how miserable we all looked, Bruno, who we later learned was the owner not only of the bar, but pretty much the whole town, told us to come in and he’d make us all soup and sandwiches. We talked with Bruno for awhile, he was quite a character. Now eighty something he had moved from Sienna Italy to Girlock when he was 23 and got a job at the big gypsum plant in town. He’s lived in Girlock ever since, quickly becoming the biggest game in town, starting his restaurant and bar, buying up something like 75,000 acres, and building a hotel, which after eating and warming up, we all decided would be a good idea to stay in. Needless to say, we all slept HARD that night.
It was quite a day, but despite all of the freezing cold, pouring rain, crashes, starvation, etc, I was still I good spirits. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t suck a little, but it was exciting to catch up with the group, the scenery was amazing, and for the first time yet on the trip I really got a sense of the adventure to come, and this was just the beginning. So all told, after balancing the experience books, I think we actually came out a bit ahead.
Day 4 – Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Got an earlyish start this morning, grabbed breakfast at Bruno’s and headed for Reno, where we would catch up with Colin, the last member of our group, pick up some parts for the bikes and then onto Truckee, CA, just outside of Lake Tahoe, to visit Steve’s sister and put our bikes back together. We got into town around 5, grabbed a burger and a beer in downtown Truckee, which turned out to be a really cool little town; wish we had a little more time to kick around and explore, but we had to head to Steve’s sisters house as I had quite a bit of putting back together to do.
We pulled in and were greeted by the cacophonous howling of Steve’s sister’s two wolves. They we definitely unsettled by three (Colin and Frenchie were staying in Reno for the night) helmeted guys pulling into their driveway on motorcycles. At the house we hung out for a bit before I got to work beating my boxes back into shape, straightening my bars, adjusting my spring and removing one of my horns, as the mounting bracket it was on was actually gouging my fuel tank, which really is not a good thing. Finished up and passed out.
Day 5 – Thursday, October 15, 2009
Today we just needed to make some serious miles. After grabbing some food at the Safeway we headed of town taking this gorgeous rode along the banks of Lake Tahoe. Incredible scenery on a crazy fun swooping windy, nicely paved road. Tahoe looked cool, didn’t stop, but would defiantly like to come back. Burned fast for a few hours, before stopping in a tiny town for a stretch and pee break, where we met Fred. Super cool and funny, told us about a few cool roads and the brief period of time he had a bike before he thrashed it.
Another couple hours of riding into another bigger small town gassed up got a drink, came out, and found Spencer’s tire flat. First one of the trip, a pain, but kind of fun at the same time. I think it only took us about 30-40 minutes for Spence to patch his tube and remount his tire, and it only took about another hour for it to go flat again as we were going around Lake Weber.
We pulled into the nearest turn out which turned out to be A “Special Ops Range Facility”, where Spence re-patched his tube, apparently the last cheap one failed. This time we had a little tire repair party, complete with snacks, whiskey, and beer. After getting everything sorted and Spence’s tire solidly holding air, we rode another 100 or so miles before pulling off on a dirt road and setting up camp.
Day 6 – Friday, October 16, 2009
Woke up, broke down camp, and cruised into Tonopah 70 miles down the road to meet up with Frenchie and Colin who were staying in the super rad Clown Motel. Grabbed another greasy breakfast and headed out of town. The next hour or so of riding was gorgeous, heading right through the Sierras. We briefly stopped and took off some of our warmer gear (for the first time at least for me) as we were actually getting hot. Then we headed into Death Valley.
A little ways down the road, before actually getting to the park we found sweet dry lake bed where we all tore around a bit, super fun. Death Valley is a lot like you would imagine it, a big deserty Valley that’s hot as shit.
It was cool to check it out, but truly not my favorite part of the trip, it was like riding through an oven. Soooo hot, Sweating our faces off we stopped at the town a little over halfway through the park] to grab a Gatorades at the general store. Right as I’m getting off my bike I recognize Mikey from that Orange County Choppers show riding a bicycle in the parking lot. As it turns out the town was swarming with bicyclists for a big 100+ mile ride through n the Valley, and Mikey is participating. Anyways, we got back on our bikes and tear out of Death Valley before being cooked. Next stop: Vegas. And we’ve been fasting all day so that we can eat our faces of at the Buffet.
After a quick shower (thanks Moe!) and change we caught a cab to the old Vegas strip, appetites in hand. We decided upon the Golden Nugget buffet where it was seafood night. The next hour or so was a grotesque gastronomic train wreck, the particulars of which I am unsure. I do know that there was a large amount of bad sea food that tasted more like the inside of a stale freezer than any sort sea life; piles of dry gamey meat, baked goods the Pillsbury Dough Boy would be ashamed of, as well as a cornucopia of other mediocre fare. After the feeding frenzy concluded we were all in bad shape, but we pulled ourselves together, several pounds heavier and head out to the strip, where we got football shaped beers, watched a dreadfully hilarious “death defying” act complete with backstreet boys-esque dance moves and big cardboard auger impaling devices. The rest of the night was spent wandering from bar to bar, as well as a bit of requisite drunken buildering.
We caught a cab back to the house, but got terribly lost. Despite having the address, our cabbie had no idea how to get us back, and as we found out no qualms about charging us while he was asking gas station after gas station how to get to the house. Finally made it back around 3 after an $80 cab ride!
Day 7 – Saturday, October 17, 2009
Ouch…. We are all hurting this morning. Save for Frenchie who was up at 7 running errands, we weren’t up and moving in earnest until noonish. Grabbed a late lunch and hit the road….. At 4:30p. Colin actually stayed in Vegas another night as he was fin too bad a shape too Ride, and Steve is headed for Yuma, AZ to visit his grandparents, leaving Frenchie, Spencer and I heading out to the Mojave Desert.
Starting the day out my hopes we realistically low (kinda hungover, and starting at 4:30p), but things quickly changed as soon as we hit the Mojave, turning in to probably one of the best days and nights of riding I have ever done. The landscape was absolutely incredible, and as the sunset only got better. Just after dark we pulled off heading up a dirt road, found a saaaweeet camp spot in a nook between the mountains, crazy good view. Gorgeous night, billions of stars, rad fire and perfect temperature, for the first night I was able to sleep without long-underwear, think we finally made it ahead of the cold… chasing summer.
Day 8 – Sunday, October 18, 2009
Left the boys at camp to come grab a drink and blog a bit. Sitting at open mic night at the Joshua Tree Saloon… Super chill, Neil Young covers, guitar, harmonica, djembe (?); besides me, only three others, and a cold Sierra Nevada.
Woke up ‘round 7 this morning, just in time to watch an unreal sunrise over the mountains. Saddled up and finished up the last stretch of the Mojave Highway… still beautiful. Spence got his third flat, this time his tube was shot. Roadside change, Met up with Route 66, then on into Joshua Tree, soooo stoaked. Once in town we grabbed a quick bite, I grabbed a chalk ball, then we headed into the park, setting up camp in Hidden Valley. While Spence and Frenchie wrenched, I quickly changed and got to the nearest boulder. I’ve heard a lot about J-Tree and I was still blown away by the radness. Super grippy, Spiderman granite. Since I only had my shoes and chalk ball I ended up soloing some mellow/rad routes. Crazy fun. As dusk fell, I walked around and took some killer shots; super clear, starry, color soaked night. This place is amazing. Got back to camp just after eight, had a smoked salmon, crackers, and some cheese I bought from the local Subway…. Muy delicious.
While I am having an amazing trip so far, I am missing everybody quite a bit. Love you all, see you soon! More on this later. Gonna sign off, make a few calls and head back up to camp. Tomorrow we’re headed for SD to stay with Uncle Rob, fix up bikes, final prep and supplies before the border, and see a few friends.
Gelb ----> Out
Day 9 thrugh 11
Slept great last night, likely due to the delicious cold sierra and muy rad Niel Young covers (lullabies). Set my alarm for 6:30, was out of my tent and on the rocks by 7a. I was looking for a mellow early morning sesh before getting on the road, but the Sirens of J-tree were singing my song. I started up a perfect hand-crack, and topped out just as the sun was just starting to rise over the mountains… sat for a minute taking in the glorious Hidden Valley. Looked around a bit and found a gorgeous lie-back, climbed to another crack, and another, and before too long topped out on the whole system. Stupid crazy views. Hung out for a bit before starting to down climb, made it cake-like all the way untill the last 15 feet where I could not figure my way down for the life of me. Those last few feet ended up taking me as long if not longer to get down from as it took me to get all the way up and down the whole rock; all the while Frenchie, with no climbing experience whatsoever telling me “look its easy, just do this and this and this, and such” Ha! Finaly made it down, pack up and rode out of J-Tree… definatly coming back on the way up and spending some time as I didn’t even scratch the granite surface.
After leaving the national park things we found a beautiful rocky valley with more twistys than you could shake an enourmous stick at (Frenchie got so great video) ending in Mecca, California, but don’t let the name fool you, the place was a boring dump. From there things rapidly became increasingly beige and stuccoed. Subway for lunch, where we met back up with Colin. We decided to take small roads into San Diego which was amazing. I don’t think any of us were expecting the ridiculously gorgeous ride ahead of us: 2 hours or so of curvy smooth as butter tarmac through shady oak tree tunnels opening onto rolling golden fields (see pictures). Got to the I-5 (suck) and B-lined North to My Uncle Robs where we would be spending the next few days gathering parts and doing last minute tweaks/fixes before crossing the border.
Rob and Norma went way to far out of their way treating us to comforts we won’t know for some time to come. Thank you both for everything (so MUCH), it was great seeing you and spending time with you. Monday night we had Chinese and showers… slept hard. Tuesday: breakfast at Swami’s (go there if you have the chance, get the Acai bowl, then running running running around gathering supplies and parts, then oil changes all around, and a center-stand for me (perhaps my best purchase for the trip), then Uncle Dobber and Rob cooked turkey burgers and homemade fries… so good. Wednesday, Steve and I ran to parts unlimited, REI (twice), auto zone, Marine west, and a few grocery stores for the big diner we were cooking for everyone tonight. Cooked like crazy: massive bowl of guacamole, mango salsa, tamatillo/avacado salsa, quiche (Frenchie, go figure), steak and chicken tacos, cupcakes, brownies and La Fin Du Monde (probly our last until we get back), muy delicioso. Uncle Steve, Leah, and Aunt Margaret came over along with a few of Normas friends, it was a wonderful night.
Day 12 – Internationally Imminent
We are now on final approach to Mexico. After everyone met at Colin and Jessica’s hotel we headed for the border… finaly! Rode for maybe 45 min before getting to Tecate where we changed money, puchased liability insurance (necessary to cross into mexico with a motorcycle), made few last phone calls, gassed up drove the final 100 yards or so to the crossing where we would spend the next few hours sorting all the paperwork and legalities out. Not wanting to leave the bikes unattended we went in two shifts, each taking about and hour or so. Had to go into the immigracion office, do a bit of paper work, then walk 4 blocks to the bank where we would stand in line for 45 min to pay our tourist visa fee, walk back and get our stamps. All in all it was a fairly painless experience save the long waits. Sorted and saddled, we pounded pavement to Encenada, on the Pacific side of Baja where we had our first Mexican meal at a local taco shop, and though I expected it, it was still a few of the best tacos (al pastor) that I’ve ever had.
We finished up around five o’ clock and decided we would head to the hot springs, about 30 minutes away, to camp. However, we forgot to calculate in mexican minutes, add that we had no idea of our way around, and multiply by six lost gringos on motorcycles in a heavily congested, stop-light/sign laden city with no idea of how to get to the highway. Long story short, we made it to the hot springs just after dark. Before embarking on the trip we all made an agreement not to ride at night, as its dangerous and makes setting up camp at a least slightly more arduous task… and its stressful. Well, needless to say we broke that rule our first night in Mexico. But here’s the best part. The Hot Springs that was going to make all the night riding, crazy city traffic and navation errors all worthwhile, was “closed for remodel”. Eff! We quickly made the decision to ride ahead to Ojos Negros about 35 klicks further where there was supposed to be camping. There was no camping. But after a bit of asking around we found a nice little hotel in Ojos Negros where we got two rooms. Once we had our place to stay sorted I think we were all relieved and it turned out to be a pretty rad night. We all got grande cervezas, drank and BS’ed in the courtyard before all passing out. Vive Mexico!
Oh and the photos I have uploaded so far can be viewed HERE ( http://picasaweb.google.com/elijahgelb). I've got a bunch more to upload in just a bit, so stay tuned!
Day 1 – Sunday, October 11, 2009
Finally left… two days behind at 8pm. Can’t believe I am actually doing this. Drove 5 min down the road to gas up and pick up a couple of things at Bartells, went inside for 5 min, came out and someone had dumped a diet coke on my brand new sheepskin seat cover. WTF!
Left Seattle, overwhelmed with excitement, tempered by the fact that I am leaving a lot of people and places I love at home. Immediately discovered I was underdressed. Stopped at rest stop to put on more gear, Freeeezing. Made it just South of Portland before I stopped to grab a late night greasy meal (jack in the box). Called Gianna for a place to stay in Bend, got in touch with Christen, but didn’t think I’d make it there. Still some 3 hours out. Got back on the road and… rode. And rode, and rode. Ended up going over Santiam Pass at about 2 AM, and around 14 degrees F. I quickly learned that all the heated grips, down jackets and thick riding socks in the world can’t keep you warm going 70 in 14 degree weather.
Made it just outside of Bend before deciding to poach a spot and call it a night. First spot I found ended up being a hunting cleaning area, and by cleaning I mean guts, bones, furs, EVERYWHERE. Drove on till I found a nice forested area, parked behind some trees out of view of the rode and set up camp. FREEEEZING. Still cold in the manana, but beautiful night.
Day 2 – Monday, October 12, 2009
Slept alright, heard some horses pretty close to the tent last night, weird. Ready to hit the road and make up some time. Then sputtering and gas issues. Try fixing a few times, even wheeled it up to mechanic. Called Spence, and he said sounded like I was out of gas. But I have a translucent gas tank and can clearly see that I have gas left. Decided to roll my bike to the gas station just down the street and fill up to see what happens, and sure enough started right up. Apparently because the bend in my fuel line arches just above the bottom of the tank there isn’t enough pressure to get to the last bit of gas. Though for what it’s worth, I made it from Seattle to Bend, OR on one tank.
All sorted out, I grab cup of coffee and make a few calls before jumping back on the road. Made it maybe 3 blocks and BANG, engines revving but I’m not going anywhere. Looking down I see metal shavings falling out of my counter-sprocket cover. I was expecting the worst, but after knocking on several doors and finding somebody with a proper socket set (I don’t have a full set since me and Steve have the same bike and are going to be sharing tools, but of course I am not yet caught up with him), I removed cover to find that my upper chain roller hand fallen out and got sucked into the cover, knocking off the chain and scratching up the retainer plate a bit (the metal shavings I saw), not too big of a deal, save for the fact that I didn’t have the necessary deep 8mm socket to get my counter-sprocket cover off. Ended up knocking on 5 doors before I found Greg, who had said socket. Thanks Greg!
Repaired, and then burned to Burns where I met Dirk. Awesome dude, let me use maps, wants to live on a boat and sail to the Bahamas. Pumped tires up and hit road, despite warnings of Deer, lots of deer. Scared I took it no more than 35 for a long time. Still no deer, no reflecting eyes no nothing. In fact, I didn’t see one the entire ride. Lots of field mice and jack rabbits though.
Finally made it to fields, but can’t find lake bed. By now it’s 1030ish and no one’s answering phones, and with the anemic directions Spence provided I’m clearly not going to find them tonight. Ended up camping on side of the road, only to wake up and now that it was light out I could clearly see the lake bed off in the distance. As I would learn tomorrow at breakfast, while I was freezing my tired road-weary ass off driving through the night to catch up, the boys were sitting in the Alvord hot springs drinking tall boys. Jerks.
Day 3 – Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Woke up around 7 this morning, poked my head out of the tent and now that it was light out I could clearly see the lake bed. Oh well. Packed up camp and headed to the only café/gas in town where I was going to finally meet up with the boys at 8am. Though it was nice to start out on my own and get my head around the trip as well as into it, it was great see the guys and get back as a group. After Steve, Spence and Frenchie pulled in around 8:30 we grabbed breakfast (decent greasy spoon diner fare) and sorted out our plans for the day. Apparently the forecast was not in our favor, calling for high winds and rain. Things were already getting pretty windy and since I hadn’t yet set the preload on my rear shock, causing my bike to sit low barely leaning on my side stand, while we were eating a gust of wind actually blew my bike over into Frenchie’s knocking it over as well. After gassing up and putting on all our cold weather gear we set out as four quickly closing in on the Arizona border.
After a bit of highway driving we got to the dirt road we were going to run that day. It was to be around 100 miles which we figured we would travel in about 3-4 hours. Wrong. So very wrong. Unbeknownst to us we were at the precipice of what would turn out to be quiet an epic (climbing speak for shit hitting the fan).
The first mistake was none but my own, as I had only one day of dirt riding experience, and none fully loaded with all my gear. The second was deciding to travel on dirt fully aware that there was a storm headed in. And third, was taking it a bit too fast along with a cheeky over confidence. Anyways, everyone was doing fairly well; the road was a bit loose and squirrely, a bit technical with plenty of twists and turns, but nothing to crazy. Then about 45 min in I came into a right hand corner a bit too fast, my back end got loose, sliding out then grabbing tossing the bike and I back the other way and from there I lost control crashing onto my right-side. It was without a doubt my hardest/fastest crash to date. Having separated from my bike I quickly jumped up ran over and killed the engine and stood it back up. I faired quite well considering my speed and all the rocks; the only injury to speak of was spraining my thumb. My bike on the other hand took a stout beating (or as David, our friend and fellow adventure rider from Liverpool would say, “I twatted me bike a good one”).
Damage Report: I tore off my heated grips switch with my thumb (how I sprained it), leaving an open hole in my control cluster; banged up one of my horns; thought I bent the shit out of my bars, but upon closer inspection it turned out it was my risers that shifted; tore off one of the straps holding my saddlebags on; and worst, I completely tore off one of my aluminum panniers and bent the rack up a bit. After regrouping for a minute I had to do some trailside fixing, beating my box kind of back into shape in order to get it to re-mount onto the rack, I tied off the torn saddlebag to my tank bag strap, as for the bars, I was just going to have to ride them until we got somewhere where I could sort them out. I was a bit bummed about banging up my bike and my confidence took a (well needed) thumping, but thankfully Spencer knew exactly how to cheer me and everyone up, producing from his jacket pocket 4 or 5 strips of bacon he had saved from breakfast. MMMMmmm Bacon. Somewhat put back together with the taste of bacon still in my mouth we pressed on.
Now the rain was picking up a bit and the soft dusty, sand was turning into the slipperiest silty slop-goop slowing us all way down and causing us all to almost loose it several times, but we needed to keep moving to make time and distance. With the road conditions deteriorating as fast as our pace, it became clear that we weren’t going to make it back to pavement before dark. Around dusk we all took a short break before tackling the last 40 or so miles. After riding for a bit, Spencer in front then me, we realized the other two weren’t behind us, which usually means somebody ditched or something broke. Hoping nobody was hurt we turned around and headed back. It wasn’t very long before Frenchie coming from the other direction pulled up beside me and pointed at the pannier he now had strapped to his rear rack. The first thought I had was “crap, Steve must have crashed too and tore his box off”. But Frenchie quickly corrected me, it was MY box! It had popped off because of the bent mounts, right in front of Steve who the hit it and luckily was able to ride it out.
One box less, cold and wet we steadily made tracks for another hour so, while it continued to rain, further turning the road into a slippery mess until just after dark Spencer got into a super soft muddy section lost control and crashed hard. Like my eelier crash, he was unhurt, but his bike… well, not so much. He thoroughly “twatted” his headlight housing and cage, bent his crash bars pretty well, and get this: sheered his ignition clean off. Long story short, we ended up having to do some roadside wiring in the pitch dark, while it was raining. After effectively hot wiring his bike, we took off again, though much slower. Thankfully we made it the last 15 miles or so without incident, though it took near an hour at between 10-15 mph.
Sooooo relieved when we finally got back to pavement around 10pm (we left the diner at around 11:30-noon) I jumped off my bike, got down, and kissed the sweet asphalt. Headed south, we limped the last 40 or so miles into Girlock (Sp?), AZ.
Now freezing, sopping wet, tired, battered and STARVING, we pulled into the first restaurant we found, but they were closed. EFF! So we walked into the attached bar to ask where to get some food. Perhaps it was because of how miserable we all looked, Bruno, who we later learned was the owner not only of the bar, but pretty much the whole town, told us to come in and he’d make us all soup and sandwiches. We talked with Bruno for awhile, he was quite a character. Now eighty something he had moved from Sienna Italy to Girlock when he was 23 and got a job at the big gypsum plant in town. He’s lived in Girlock ever since, quickly becoming the biggest game in town, starting his restaurant and bar, buying up something like 75,000 acres, and building a hotel, which after eating and warming up, we all decided would be a good idea to stay in. Needless to say, we all slept HARD that night.
It was quite a day, but despite all of the freezing cold, pouring rain, crashes, starvation, etc, I was still I good spirits. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t suck a little, but it was exciting to catch up with the group, the scenery was amazing, and for the first time yet on the trip I really got a sense of the adventure to come, and this was just the beginning. So all told, after balancing the experience books, I think we actually came out a bit ahead.
Day 4 – Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Got an earlyish start this morning, grabbed breakfast at Bruno’s and headed for Reno, where we would catch up with Colin, the last member of our group, pick up some parts for the bikes and then onto Truckee, CA, just outside of Lake Tahoe, to visit Steve’s sister and put our bikes back together. We got into town around 5, grabbed a burger and a beer in downtown Truckee, which turned out to be a really cool little town; wish we had a little more time to kick around and explore, but we had to head to Steve’s sisters house as I had quite a bit of putting back together to do.
We pulled in and were greeted by the cacophonous howling of Steve’s sister’s two wolves. They we definitely unsettled by three (Colin and Frenchie were staying in Reno for the night) helmeted guys pulling into their driveway on motorcycles. At the house we hung out for a bit before I got to work beating my boxes back into shape, straightening my bars, adjusting my spring and removing one of my horns, as the mounting bracket it was on was actually gouging my fuel tank, which really is not a good thing. Finished up and passed out.
Day 5 – Thursday, October 15, 2009
Today we just needed to make some serious miles. After grabbing some food at the Safeway we headed of town taking this gorgeous rode along the banks of Lake Tahoe. Incredible scenery on a crazy fun swooping windy, nicely paved road. Tahoe looked cool, didn’t stop, but would defiantly like to come back. Burned fast for a few hours, before stopping in a tiny town for a stretch and pee break, where we met Fred. Super cool and funny, told us about a few cool roads and the brief period of time he had a bike before he thrashed it.
Another couple hours of riding into another bigger small town gassed up got a drink, came out, and found Spencer’s tire flat. First one of the trip, a pain, but kind of fun at the same time. I think it only took us about 30-40 minutes for Spence to patch his tube and remount his tire, and it only took about another hour for it to go flat again as we were going around Lake Weber.
We pulled into the nearest turn out which turned out to be A “Special Ops Range Facility”, where Spence re-patched his tube, apparently the last cheap one failed. This time we had a little tire repair party, complete with snacks, whiskey, and beer. After getting everything sorted and Spence’s tire solidly holding air, we rode another 100 or so miles before pulling off on a dirt road and setting up camp.
Day 6 – Friday, October 16, 2009
Woke up, broke down camp, and cruised into Tonopah 70 miles down the road to meet up with Frenchie and Colin who were staying in the super rad Clown Motel. Grabbed another greasy breakfast and headed out of town. The next hour or so of riding was gorgeous, heading right through the Sierras. We briefly stopped and took off some of our warmer gear (for the first time at least for me) as we were actually getting hot. Then we headed into Death Valley.
A little ways down the road, before actually getting to the park we found sweet dry lake bed where we all tore around a bit, super fun. Death Valley is a lot like you would imagine it, a big deserty Valley that’s hot as shit.
It was cool to check it out, but truly not my favorite part of the trip, it was like riding through an oven. Soooo hot, Sweating our faces off we stopped at the town a little over halfway through the park] to grab a Gatorades at the general store. Right as I’m getting off my bike I recognize Mikey from that Orange County Choppers show riding a bicycle in the parking lot. As it turns out the town was swarming with bicyclists for a big 100+ mile ride through n the Valley, and Mikey is participating. Anyways, we got back on our bikes and tear out of Death Valley before being cooked. Next stop: Vegas. And we’ve been fasting all day so that we can eat our faces of at the Buffet.
After a quick shower (thanks Moe!) and change we caught a cab to the old Vegas strip, appetites in hand. We decided upon the Golden Nugget buffet where it was seafood night. The next hour or so was a grotesque gastronomic train wreck, the particulars of which I am unsure. I do know that there was a large amount of bad sea food that tasted more like the inside of a stale freezer than any sort sea life; piles of dry gamey meat, baked goods the Pillsbury Dough Boy would be ashamed of, as well as a cornucopia of other mediocre fare. After the feeding frenzy concluded we were all in bad shape, but we pulled ourselves together, several pounds heavier and head out to the strip, where we got football shaped beers, watched a dreadfully hilarious “death defying” act complete with backstreet boys-esque dance moves and big cardboard auger impaling devices. The rest of the night was spent wandering from bar to bar, as well as a bit of requisite drunken buildering.
We caught a cab back to the house, but got terribly lost. Despite having the address, our cabbie had no idea how to get us back, and as we found out no qualms about charging us while he was asking gas station after gas station how to get to the house. Finally made it back around 3 after an $80 cab ride!
Day 7 – Saturday, October 17, 2009
Ouch…. We are all hurting this morning. Save for Frenchie who was up at 7 running errands, we weren’t up and moving in earnest until noonish. Grabbed a late lunch and hit the road….. At 4:30p. Colin actually stayed in Vegas another night as he was fin too bad a shape too Ride, and Steve is headed for Yuma, AZ to visit his grandparents, leaving Frenchie, Spencer and I heading out to the Mojave Desert.
Starting the day out my hopes we realistically low (kinda hungover, and starting at 4:30p), but things quickly changed as soon as we hit the Mojave, turning in to probably one of the best days and nights of riding I have ever done. The landscape was absolutely incredible, and as the sunset only got better. Just after dark we pulled off heading up a dirt road, found a saaaweeet camp spot in a nook between the mountains, crazy good view. Gorgeous night, billions of stars, rad fire and perfect temperature, for the first night I was able to sleep without long-underwear, think we finally made it ahead of the cold… chasing summer.
Day 8 – Sunday, October 18, 2009
Left the boys at camp to come grab a drink and blog a bit. Sitting at open mic night at the Joshua Tree Saloon… Super chill, Neil Young covers, guitar, harmonica, djembe (?); besides me, only three others, and a cold Sierra Nevada.
Woke up ‘round 7 this morning, just in time to watch an unreal sunrise over the mountains. Saddled up and finished up the last stretch of the Mojave Highway… still beautiful. Spence got his third flat, this time his tube was shot. Roadside change, Met up with Route 66, then on into Joshua Tree, soooo stoaked. Once in town we grabbed a quick bite, I grabbed a chalk ball, then we headed into the park, setting up camp in Hidden Valley. While Spence and Frenchie wrenched, I quickly changed and got to the nearest boulder. I’ve heard a lot about J-Tree and I was still blown away by the radness. Super grippy, Spiderman granite. Since I only had my shoes and chalk ball I ended up soloing some mellow/rad routes. Crazy fun. As dusk fell, I walked around and took some killer shots; super clear, starry, color soaked night. This place is amazing. Got back to camp just after eight, had a smoked salmon, crackers, and some cheese I bought from the local Subway…. Muy delicious.
While I am having an amazing trip so far, I am missing everybody quite a bit. Love you all, see you soon! More on this later. Gonna sign off, make a few calls and head back up to camp. Tomorrow we’re headed for SD to stay with Uncle Rob, fix up bikes, final prep and supplies before the border, and see a few friends.
Gelb ----> Out
Day 9 thrugh 11
Slept great last night, likely due to the delicious cold sierra and muy rad Niel Young covers (lullabies). Set my alarm for 6:30, was out of my tent and on the rocks by 7a. I was looking for a mellow early morning sesh before getting on the road, but the Sirens of J-tree were singing my song. I started up a perfect hand-crack, and topped out just as the sun was just starting to rise over the mountains… sat for a minute taking in the glorious Hidden Valley. Looked around a bit and found a gorgeous lie-back, climbed to another crack, and another, and before too long topped out on the whole system. Stupid crazy views. Hung out for a bit before starting to down climb, made it cake-like all the way untill the last 15 feet where I could not figure my way down for the life of me. Those last few feet ended up taking me as long if not longer to get down from as it took me to get all the way up and down the whole rock; all the while Frenchie, with no climbing experience whatsoever telling me “look its easy, just do this and this and this, and such” Ha! Finaly made it down, pack up and rode out of J-Tree… definatly coming back on the way up and spending some time as I didn’t even scratch the granite surface.
After leaving the national park things we found a beautiful rocky valley with more twistys than you could shake an enourmous stick at (Frenchie got so great video) ending in Mecca, California, but don’t let the name fool you, the place was a boring dump. From there things rapidly became increasingly beige and stuccoed. Subway for lunch, where we met back up with Colin. We decided to take small roads into San Diego which was amazing. I don’t think any of us were expecting the ridiculously gorgeous ride ahead of us: 2 hours or so of curvy smooth as butter tarmac through shady oak tree tunnels opening onto rolling golden fields (see pictures). Got to the I-5 (suck) and B-lined North to My Uncle Robs where we would be spending the next few days gathering parts and doing last minute tweaks/fixes before crossing the border.
Rob and Norma went way to far out of their way treating us to comforts we won’t know for some time to come. Thank you both for everything (so MUCH), it was great seeing you and spending time with you. Monday night we had Chinese and showers… slept hard. Tuesday: breakfast at Swami’s (go there if you have the chance, get the Acai bowl, then running running running around gathering supplies and parts, then oil changes all around, and a center-stand for me (perhaps my best purchase for the trip), then Uncle Dobber and Rob cooked turkey burgers and homemade fries… so good. Wednesday, Steve and I ran to parts unlimited, REI (twice), auto zone, Marine west, and a few grocery stores for the big diner we were cooking for everyone tonight. Cooked like crazy: massive bowl of guacamole, mango salsa, tamatillo/avacado salsa, quiche (Frenchie, go figure), steak and chicken tacos, cupcakes, brownies and La Fin Du Monde (probly our last until we get back), muy delicioso. Uncle Steve, Leah, and Aunt Margaret came over along with a few of Normas friends, it was a wonderful night.
Day 12 – Internationally Imminent
We are now on final approach to Mexico. After everyone met at Colin and Jessica’s hotel we headed for the border… finaly! Rode for maybe 45 min before getting to Tecate where we changed money, puchased liability insurance (necessary to cross into mexico with a motorcycle), made few last phone calls, gassed up drove the final 100 yards or so to the crossing where we would spend the next few hours sorting all the paperwork and legalities out. Not wanting to leave the bikes unattended we went in two shifts, each taking about and hour or so. Had to go into the immigracion office, do a bit of paper work, then walk 4 blocks to the bank where we would stand in line for 45 min to pay our tourist visa fee, walk back and get our stamps. All in all it was a fairly painless experience save the long waits. Sorted and saddled, we pounded pavement to Encenada, on the Pacific side of Baja where we had our first Mexican meal at a local taco shop, and though I expected it, it was still a few of the best tacos (al pastor) that I’ve ever had.
We finished up around five o’ clock and decided we would head to the hot springs, about 30 minutes away, to camp. However, we forgot to calculate in mexican minutes, add that we had no idea of our way around, and multiply by six lost gringos on motorcycles in a heavily congested, stop-light/sign laden city with no idea of how to get to the highway. Long story short, we made it to the hot springs just after dark. Before embarking on the trip we all made an agreement not to ride at night, as its dangerous and makes setting up camp at a least slightly more arduous task… and its stressful. Well, needless to say we broke that rule our first night in Mexico. But here’s the best part. The Hot Springs that was going to make all the night riding, crazy city traffic and navation errors all worthwhile, was “closed for remodel”. Eff! We quickly made the decision to ride ahead to Ojos Negros about 35 klicks further where there was supposed to be camping. There was no camping. But after a bit of asking around we found a nice little hotel in Ojos Negros where we got two rooms. Once we had our place to stay sorted I think we were all relieved and it turned out to be a pretty rad night. We all got grande cervezas, drank and BS’ed in the courtyard before all passing out. Vive Mexico!
Oh and the photos I have uploaded so far can be viewed HERE ( http://picasaweb.google.com/elijahgelb). I've got a bunch more to upload in just a bit, so stay tuned!
24 September 2009
Not on el topic de adventure, but thought I'd share... one of the best things I've read in awhile.
“I think Al Pacino has stretched his soul, more so than maybe I have,” Giamatti said. “So his soul would be more elastic. It’s a liquid, an oily liquid th aat gets into cracks and crevices, but also has some body to it, so he can do that ‘Hoo ha!’ thing.” Giamatti’s rendition of “Hoo ha!” was mournful and slightly sneezy.
As he sipped chicken soup, reputed to pep up the soul, he grew less agitated. “I’d like to try Willie Nelson’s soul for a day,” he volunteered. “It would be like an ear of roasted corn. And I go to Dolly Parton, for some reason—her soul would be light and airy, like a hummingbird. Yes, I like the idea of having a country singer’s soul. But not Merle Haggard’s—it’d be an engine block. Powerful, but kind of rusty, with lots of buildup.
“Freud would be interesting,” he continued. “I’m seeing a piece of Babylonian statuary, with the curly beard, the half-a-lion, the wings. Or Donald Trump: a nice set of whitewall tires.” To Giamatti’s surprise, he was also drawn, like many another, to the apparently soulless Jessica Simpson: “I can’t get a read off of her, which is why I’m curious. Her soul might just be a tape measure.” He drew the line at the guitar player Slash, “a blood orange left on a windowsill, all dried out and leathery”; Kim Jong Il, “a crazy box of crabs”; and Henry Kissinger, “a doorknob.”
Giamatti leaned back. “What about the Pope? Presumably, it’s part of the job description to have a lot of soul. This guy is a tough read, though—he’s like Jessica Simpson. I just see a glass of water with this guy.” He shrugged. “But, on the other hand—refreshing the people. Maybe it’s a bottomless glass.”
Continuing around the continent on a kind of astral Eurail pass, he said, “Berlusconi . . . I’m seeing a heavily lacquered coffee table. No good. Tolstoy would be a great one: he could jump right across the way into anybody. And Sarkozy—if I had Sarkozy’s soul, Carla Bruni would fly over, drawn to me like the arrow point of a compass, and get in my bathtub and sing.”
What would Giamatti’s own soul resemble? “If people judged it off the movies, they would see something spiny—a sea urchin,” he said. He observed, however, that that’s not really him. “People would be surprised, but I have a certain low-level machismo,” he said, grinning for the first time. “I remember being up for a scrap in the schoolyard, and I can take a punch.” His shoulders shifted pugnaciously. “I’m always surprised, when I do movies, at how eager I am to throw myself out of a moving car. I don’t look like it, but I’ve got a little ‘Hoo ha!’ in me.”
If his soul isn’t a chickpea or a sea urchin, then what is it? “I’m seeing a hand-painted ceramic toad,” Giamatti said. “A nice one, though. Not a crappy Chia Pet one. Something decorative for the yard. It doesn’t pull the room together or anything, but it’s out there, and occasionally you notice it and you say, ‘Oh, I kind of like that thing, that—what is it?—that toad thing.’ ”
Sea Urchins and an Angry box of crabs… Muy funny.
03 August 2009
... Is this thing on?
*chck scchhhchhhh* .... Check, one, two, one two check. Turn my headphones up a bit, check, check. Alright. Alright.....
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Helloooo world. How ya’ll feelin'?
You're looking beautiful tonight.
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Nice to see you all on such an auspicious occasion, this being my first step (/stumble) out into the blogosphere. I struggled for some time with what would be my first post. I mean it should after all be prolific, epigrammatic, avoid whimsy at all costs (please excuse the above opening), thoughtful, as candid as a drunken Polaroid, rife with profundity and punctuated by keen witticisms... grand in nature, broad in scope, until at last I have created a chimerical blog-0-monster unassailable by even the most adroit of bloggers (shitmydadsays, among others).
I squirmed through corny openings, wrestled single sentences for longer than I care to admit, deleted, re-wrote, and deleted again an entire blog worth of blogs. Perhaps it was the mental fatigue and anguish that lead me to the desperate conclusion that I just need to post something, anything. Then I had the thought that this is not too dissimilar to walking into a room full of people I had never meet (except that I do in fact know most of you) -- I'll introduce myself. You know -- like on your first day of class when your teacher asks you to tell the class your, name, age, where you're from, favorite food, and one interesting thing you wish to share about yourself.
That’s me…
Mom and Dad are very proud.
I'm Elijah, I'm 25, I live in Seattle, currently my favorite food is the Himalayan Curry and Annapurna on Broadway, and I am taking a big trip to South America this fall. That last bit is the real reason why I wanted to start this blog.
In about a month I will be leaving Seattle with two close friends. These are the knowns as of 12:30 this afternoon...
- Riders: Steven (the Mexican) Campbell, Spencer (mucho experience-o) Harris, and Me (...)
- Starting from: Seattle, WA
- Our destination: Terre Del Fuego and back.
- Timeline: open ended, but by most estimates roughly 6-9 months.
- Mode of transportation: Motorized Bike -- Steven: KTM 950 Adventure; Me: Suzuki DR650; Spencer: R80 Frankenstiened into R80GS Paris Dakarishy Radness
- Definitely doing: Tranzamazonia Highway, the Yungas Road outside of La Paz, Semuc Champey, Angels Falls, Salar de Uyuni, lots more, but those are some of the big ones. Any suggestions would be so appreciated, so throw them at us! Please!
My intentions for this blog are manifold. I want it to become an interactive record of our journey, not just posts and pictures, but comments, responses, and reactions from you. Also, I plan to post often enough to keep everyone (well, at least those interested) posted on our progress and experience, as it will be much easier to broadcast via blogger versus sending mucho emails. But above of all I think it will be a great way to interact with my friends and family at home. So please comment, ask, suggest, respond effusively.
Well, enough of all that. I'll be sure to post soon with an update on prep and progress.
Days till departure: 33
Mental Barometer Reading: Ambivalent
Gelb ---> Out.
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