Well, here I am, 9 days into the Great Pan-American Adventure, and I’m stranded in Escondido, CA.
On the way south, the Himi started making a chunking/clunking sound. Discretion being the better part of valor, I elected to hold off crossing into Mexico until after I had it looked at. I thought it was possibly the chain. WRONG! It turns out it was a little thing in the rear tire called the rubber cush drive (rubber cushion drive). It’s something that absorbs the shock from the engine being transmitted into the drive chain and sockets. If it goes bad, bad things happen. It went bad.
And wouldn’t you know it, there was a single rubber cushion ANYWHERE in the US. Not even at the distributors. So, fortunately, Hitchcock Motorcycles in the UK had some in stock, so the parts guy ordered them yesterday. Today it’s at Heathrow Airport, in London, about to board a flight. It should arrive here by Close of Business on Friday. If that’s the case, then the shop can install them Saturday morning and I’ll be in Mexio by late afternoon.
Of course, this has disrupted my schedule a bit. So far the Baja Ferry people have responded, as has the AirBnB host (both want updates, ASAP, as you can imagine), but nothing from the SCUBA people yet.
To update you on the ride, I made it from Enumclaw to Corvallis in one, long day, crossing the Mighty Columbia River at Astoria (you can barely make out the bridge in the photo below).
Then from Corvallis to Eugene for new tires, and then Elk Praire Campground in northern California’s Redwoods National and State Parks.
Day three got me to Lassen Volcanic National Park – truly beautiful, but cold and damp (I had arrived just after a major hail/thunderstorm).
The next day I intended to ride to Yosemite taking California Highway 89. It was going to be a long drive and I was worried about arriving in the dark, so when Google Maps said “I’ve got a faster route for you,” I said “sure.” Big mistake. Huge. GM put me into the Central Valley (not where I wanted to be) running through the towns of Roseburg and Folsom. I think I hit 100 traffic signals, of which 96 were red. I’m not exaggerating. By the time I got through the towns, my front brake was so hot from constantly stopping it felt like it was going to lock up! No bueno. Plus, it was hot. Nothing like riding in 90+ temps in full motorcycle gear (helmet, armored jacket and pants, and boots). Ugh.
Anyhow, pulled into Yosemite at dusk, and found my tent site was one of the furthest from the parking lot. Oh, joy. Lugging 85 pound of gear in two panniers, a duffle bag, two over-pannier bags, a tank bag, sleeping pad, and chair is not fun. Especially when it’s getting dark (and I still had to set up camp).
Finally, I got set up, ate some dehydrated crap that I’ve had lying around for at least 13 years (How do I know? because it was beef stew – I stopped eating red meat in 2013), then discoverd that a can of chicken had exploded in one of my pannier bags when I dropped the bike on a soft shoulder (had pulled over to do something and the Himi decided it was time for a nap). Spent more time cleaning the waterproof pannier bag and everything in it (all of it covered in canned chicken juice – all this while in bear country).
Anyhow, woke up hoping to get some great photos. Was greeted with smoke from forest fires. No great views. As a matter of fact, hardly any views :-(. So, off to do laundry and get a shower, then I spent the rest of the day riding. Made it to Sequoia National Park, hoping to see the General Sherman tree. Unfortunately, it was a half mile from the parking lot to the tree with 700′ of elevation change. Not something I was about to do in my riding togs, all while the bike and everything on it was unattended. Maybe next year.
Spent a night in a hotel in Visalia, instead of in a campground at Lake Isabella as I had intended. More money gone :-(.
The next day I made it to Greg Sorber’s house. Greg is a Science Fiction writer who is also a member of the Pink Flamingo Universe. He writes mechtech (think transformers in space – his website is www.gregerationx.com, so check it out.
I met his wife, we chatted, had some wine, then went out for Indian food. After dinner we drank more wine and chatted more, and I got to meet their youngest son. Then I slept the sleep of a zombie.
The next morning I got to meet their eldest son, then got on the road to Portrero, my (supposed) final stop in the US before crossing the border. Alas, the chunking sound kicked up again, so instead of crossing into Mexico the following morning, I made my way to Escondido where Quentin (the service manager) informed me that the problem wasn’t just the chain, but the rubber cushions. Thus began a nationwide hunt for the offending parts. It was only after we had exhuasted every avenue that Myles, the parts guy, ordered the parts from Hitchcock Motorcycles in the UK.
So, that’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.
Meanwhile, here I sit in Escondido, typing on my blog, working on Endure, and trying to learn this new video editing software for my Writer on the Road YouTube Channel.
I also had some good coffee while waiting to hear about the Himi.
Adventure (noun): Somebody in deep shit in a faraway land.
