I left Miami after taking in the delights of this cosmopolitan city, its quite something to be sitting outside a bar at 2 am, watching a drunk rolling around in the gutter, a crack hoe plying her wears on one corner, a group of gang bangers plying theres on the other and a convertible Lamborghini at the lights. It really did feel like a scene from Miami Vice, thankfully no pastel box jackets though!
I spent my birthday, June 3rd, if you need to put that in your diary for next year, with the US side of the family, in Boynton Beach. I haven’t caught up with this branch of the family tree for nearly 18 years, so it was good to see the clan again and acquaint myself with the growing brewed. I now have 12 second cousins, as my cousins pop out new sprogs at a right old rate. 
From here I set out cross country towards Arkansas, which only claim to fame is that ex-president Clinton used to be its governor (better that Schwarzenegger I suppose), to catch up with some friends and take a break from the drudgery of riding on the US interstate systems. Its great for eating up the miles, but the landscape on the east is, lets say rather flat and there only so many Denny’s, International House of Pancakes and Waffle Houses you want to eat in. I managed the trip in two days, however I totally under estimated the distance and on day two, spent 17 hours in the saddle and covered 850 miles. I assure you that I will never do that again. And I suppose that you will ask why I did? I really cant give a valid reason, I could have just pulled in to any one of a thousand bland motels, I didn’t have to be anywhere at a certain time, so I think the best explanation is that I’m a stupid wanker!
After recuperating from said ride and getting some work done on the bike, I set off cross country again, for a place that I have always wanted to see and somehow, even after travelling in the states several time, managed to miss – Monument Valley. On route I crossed through Oklahoma and New Mexico, this is an extract from my personnel journal – “I enter the BigDs diner and every head turns to see what has walked in through the door. The place is in Nowheresville Oklahoma, on the great plains, it stinks of fried food and stale air, the clientele are straight out of the stereo type text book; dudes in Stetsons, boots and big belt buckle or tie die shirts, filthy baseball cap and discount store Timberland rip offs. There is only one window and no ventilation, although the weather outside is a beautiful sunny day. A sign on the wall reads, “I don’t skinny dip, I chunky dunk!”, which is entirely appropriate, as everyone, with no exception, is at least 50lb overweight, including the waitress. The coffee is weak, the air is stinging my eyes and the food is greasy. But this place is so irresistibly mid America, it personifies everything that is wrong and
From here I set out cross country towards Arkansas, which only claim to fame is that ex-president Clinton used to be its governor (better that Schwarzenegger I suppose), to catch up with some friends and take a break from the drudgery of riding on the US interstate systems. Its great for eating up the miles, but the landscape on the east is, lets say rather flat and there only so many Denny’s, International House of Pancakes and Waffle Houses you want to eat in. I managed the trip in two days, however I totally under estimated the distance and on day two, spent 17 hours in the saddle and covered 850 miles. I assure you that I will never do that again. And I suppose that you will ask why I did? I really cant give a valid reason, I could have just pulled in to any one of a thousand bland motels, I didn’t have to be anywhere at a certain time, so I think the best explanation is that I’m a stupid wanker!
After recuperating from said ride and getting some work done on the bike, I set off cross country again, for a place that I have always wanted to see and somehow, even after travelling in the states several time, managed to miss – Monument Valley. On route I crossed through Oklahoma and New Mexico, this is an extract from my personnel journal – “I enter the BigDs diner and every head turns to see what has walked in through the door. The place is in Nowheresville Oklahoma, on the great plains, it stinks of fried food and stale air, the clientele are straight out of the stereo type text book; dudes in Stetsons, boots and big belt buckle or tie die shirts, filthy baseball cap and discount store Timberland rip offs. There is only one window and no ventilation, although the weather outside is a beautiful sunny day. A sign on the wall reads, “I don’t skinny dip, I chunky dunk!”, which is entirely appropriate, as everyone, with no exception, is at least 50lb overweight, including the waitress. The coffee is weak, the air is stinging my eyes and the food is greasy. But this place is so irresistibly mid America, it personifies everything that is wrong and
everything that is right about America”. 
It took me two long days from Arkansas to get to the Utah border and on this night I camped by a river just 40 miles from Monument Valley. I rose early the next day extremely excited about eventually getting to see these rocks that I had 
seen so many time is western movies as a child, with John Wayne riding around on his horse, chasing Indians telling people to get off there horse and drink there milk and proving how the west was won, or stolen depending on how you look at it. By 7.30 am I was riding through the “Land of the Gods” and marvelling at the giant sand stone bluffs that tower above you, that have been carved out by a million years worth of sand storms and water erosion. My next thrill was riding down the road that featured on the album cover of the Eagles, Hotel California and is a piece of music and travel legend. Not only is this a great place to cruise through, it is a fantastic place to photograph, so I spend quite a few hours sitting around waiting for the light to be perfect, but your could be here for weeks, even months and come up with so many different shades of light, that none would seem perfect, but I was happy with what I could achieve given the limited time scale.
seen so many time is western movies as a child, with John Wayne riding around on his horse, chasing Indians telling people to get off there horse and drink there milk and proving how the west was won, or stolen depending on how you look at it. By 7.30 am I was riding through the “Land of the Gods” and marvelling at the giant sand stone bluffs that tower above you, that have been carved out by a million years worth of sand storms and water erosion. My next thrill was riding down the road that featured on the album cover of the Eagles, Hotel California and is a piece of music and travel legend. Not only is this a great place to cruise through, it is a fantastic place to photograph, so I spend quite a few hours sitting around waiting for the light to be perfect, but your could be here for weeks, even months and come up with so many different shades of light, that none would seem perfect, but I was happy with what I could achieve given the limited time scale.
The next stop was Moab, the stop off town for Arches NP and some of the most spectacular rock scenery there is in the world. The first night I was there, i camped on the banks of the Colorado river and tried to get some photos of some of the arches , but missed the good light, so returned to my camp in the wilds, where I attempted a camp meal in the absolute pitch black of a moonless night and having only my head tourch for company. Unfortunately all this did was attract a hoard of flys, that either landed in my food or my mouth; now that's fresh protein for you.I had better luck with the photos the next day, catching a storm coming in behind the arches, unfortunately I got caught in the storm on the walk back to the car park and got totally drenched, but I was happy with the night efforts. I had moved my tent to an RV park, so at least I had something a little more luxurious to return to - no fly soup tonight.
I rode out of the desserts of Utah on an extremely chilly morning, stopping at one of Americas great institutions, the diner! American cuisine leave quite a lot to be desired at times, but there do know how to do breakfast ( apart from coffee, its shockingly bad, there should be a law against what surely is mud mixed with hot water), I rode in to the Rockies and to the ski town of Teluride, surrounded by towering granite, this small town is the epitome of old time America , in the new modern age, with charming old houses lining its streets and crystal clear streams running through the place.
All day long I was straining my neck looking up and around at the magnificent countryside of what could be Americas most beautiful state. Forests of pine and aspen cover the mountains and streams and rivers tumble down them, I was truly enchanted. I stopped for the night at Ouray, which is clustered in a giant amphitheater, not only is it a beautiful to camp, it has the added bonus of have a natural thermal spring to help soak away the aches of the long days ride.
The following day I took to some of the jeep trails of the area, which I had been informed where of relative ease. Well maybe in a 4x4 jeep, yes, but on 500lbs of BMW, I assure you that is not the case. These roads indeed tested my resolve of both rider and bike and I would put some of this section as the toughest roads I have been along , anywhere, I really was on the limit of the mine and the bikes capabilities. In fact it got to the point where it went over the limits and I ended up with the bike on its side in 2 foot of muddy water and some very moist feet. Unfortunately, I had inadvertently taken a wrong turn, hence I was in to tough territory and with no one in sight, having to pick the heifer up on my own. After that I was in to mood for finding my way out and some lunch. The trail took me to the quaint old mining town of Silverton, which sits amongst the mountains like a forgotten relic of a bygone age, with old western style shop fronts, saloons with swing doors and even a small gauge steam train service.
I tied up my bike at the front of an eating establishment and consumed some Mexican food, whilst my socks and boots sat drying in the sun. I rode back to my camp with a school boy grip of misadventure on my face, happily covered in mud and sweat and enjoyed a cold beer with the camp host, from the fridge of his massive RV ( recreation vehicle) the sort if thing that we only see in the UK at a Formula 1 meeting, but in America are everywhere. Recession, what recession?
I left my beautiful camp ground and headed over Red Mountain Pass ( there is a red mountain there!) where first it started to rain and then it snowed. Excuse my profanity, but I was fucking frozen, there is only so much my heated grips can do, and I couldn't even feel them. I rode, shivering down in to the town of Durango, where I stuffed my face at an all you can eat Chinese buffet, were I certainly got my monies worth, as I started to warm up at the lower altitude and the glimpse of sun that shone through the window. I camped that night at a camp called Big Bend Camp, fun enough it was on a big bend in the river, so descriptive these Americans. Now do any of you remember the film National Lampoons Vacation, staring Chevy Chase and with a glimpse of Christy Brinkley? Well it was filmed at this very camp. Unfortunately Christy was not around, so I had to make do with the gentle sounds of the river to lull me to sleep.
I rode on through the Rockies and the great log cabins that people dwell in in this part of the world, stopping off at the cute little town of Lakecity, which is rather an exaggeration for a town with a population of around 500, clearly the founder had big expectations. The main pass time hear in trout fishing in the clear waters of the river the runs through town. I didn't have the time to stop and fish, but I have picked up myself a rod and have high hopes of hooking out a couple of specimens to roast over the camp fire later in my travels. Im now staying with friends near Breckenridge, where in years gone by I have enjoyed the skiing. Now I am relaxing in the mountain air and getting ready to enjoy the celebration of 4th July, when I understand, they celebrate removal of them selves from the commonwealth, what a bizarre thing to celebrate. I will of course be sporting my Union Jack shorts and waving the flag of the Empire.
I would like to share some words of wisdom that have been passed on to me while in this ex-colony -
"God , Guns and Guts, that what made America great" Alabama
"You cant ride to Alaska, Alaska is an Island!" Colorado.
Fantastic! Ciao x
