This a test to see if I can write to this blog site yet as I would like to send pictures.
Sent from my iPhone .

Sent from my iPhone
Begin forwarded message:
> From: Paul Wrightson > Date: April 24, 2008 6:01:19 AM MDT > To: Blogger > Subject: Back in Portland >
> I have been trying to get to the blog for a while now and it kept > giving me the message ‘changing server’ so sorry for no updates. > > I have been worried for some time that if I lost this blog I would > lose the record of my entire trip, and I might want to read these > ramblings some day. I also was frustrated and unsure if this site > would ever be back up, so I decided to start the blog in another > place. > > I cannot cut and paste with the IPhone so it might be a little while > until both sites are in sync but for now as a test I will be posting > to http://coast-to-coast.typepad.com. Please have a look and > bookmark that page. > > Whilst I was browsing the other day I typed coast to coast on a > Goldwing into Google and found my entire blog had been copied into a > Goldwing owners website, the Virginia chapter of GWRRA. I was amazed > that possibly people who don’t even know me were interested in my > ramblings, it just goes to show, the Internet is indeed a large > community. > > I am back on my IPhone and almost ready to go, read the other blog > for the latest update. > > That’s all for now, its great to be back on the road, I cannot tell > you how much I am looking forward to the journey ahead, new places > and new people are only the twist of a throttle away. > > Bye for now, lots more to come. > > Paul the fat motorcycle gypsey. > > > Sent from my iPhone

Well - long time no hear.

I am now in the city of Montreal Canada in the deep snow, if fact at the rear of the house it is at least 5 feet deep, many roads around here have been cleared, but huge piles of snow are at the edge of the road where the snowploughs have pushed them.

I mentioned I was leaving Portland, well the very generous Micheal Frerichs gave me his address, I rode to his house, parked the bike and then he gave me a lift to the airport.  Because I was trying to keep costs of travelling down I was flying to New York then catching the train to Montreal which is less than 400 miles away, the cheapest plane meant changing at Las Vegas, I know going a few hundred miles south to then travel East seems strange, but that route was only $170, when you realise that it is across the entire US I think that is not a bad price.  According to the schedule I would have only a 45 minute wait in Las Vegas for my connecting flight to New York, arriving at around midnight, then getting to Penn station to catch the 8:15ish train to Montreal.

All started perfectly, took off and landed pretty much on time, the airport lounge at Las Vegas is a large circular place at the end of an arm with the plane stands coming off it like spokes, my connecting flight to New York was no more than 50 yards from the gate I came in to, so I thought it was perfect.  I needed to visit the bathroom (I am getting the local naming conventions down) so I went up the ‘arm’ of the terminal around 30 yards.  When I came out I went to a place selling milkshakes and by the time I got it and had one sip they were starting to call for boarding my flight, perfect.  I needed to check my ticket to see what seat I was on so I could get in line, it was then I noticed that I had lost my ticket and passport.  I went to the most obvious place, the toilet, and looking back in the stall I saw my ticket laying on the floor, it had slid under the bowl, these were the type that just came out from the wall so there is a clear gap underneath.  I went to the desk telling them I had lost my passport, they said they would wait a few minutes while I searched so I went to the desk of the plane from Portland and told them I had dropped my passport and it could be near my seat, as it was only 10 mins since I landed obviously the plane was not even boarding yet, so a guy went to look.  In the meantime I went back to the bathroom to see if anyone had picked it up and stood it up near the sinks or something, no such luck, and when I returned the guy who had checked my previous flight confirmed there was no passport.  I went back to the desk to keep them informed and they told me they could not delay the flight, moved me on to the ‘redeye’ flight at 11:00pm that evening and sent it on its way with my luggage. 

I used the courtesy phone to call lost and found, nothing had been handed it, but they took my number and said they would call me when and if someone handed it in.  So I just had to wait for 6 hours hoping that the person who found the passport handed it in.  I telephoned Ian to tell him that plans had changed because he was going to meet me at the train station in Montreal, sat down and read my book.  I was not worried, I had only been less than 100 yards total inside the terminal and was pretty certain that the finder of the passport had passed it onto a cleaner or someone who had not handed it in straight away but had waited until they could be bothered.  The book by the way is Stephen Kings new one, Durma Key, and I got quite engrossed.

After a couple of hours I tried to telephone the lost and found office from the courtesy phone (I cannot think of that or write it without Airplane jumping into my head and making me smile) but no answer, so I decided to have a walk to the lost and found office just for the exercise.  After about a 20 mins walk I found the office and there it was, he had had it for an hour or so but thought I had taken my connection to New York so no panic to call me.  Anyway walked back and read my book until time to board at 11:45pm, waiting in the terminal for over 6 hours, ah well.  Just a quick note, this was Las Vegas, so of course there was a large number of slot machines in the centre of the terminal just in case you had some money left, and of course there was someone playing them nearly all the time I waited, I have no idea how much she lost.

The flight was uneventful, we landed I think around 8:30am, I caught a bus from JFK to the Port Authority building, Ian had done some checking and there was not another train that day but there were buses, found the ticket office, bought a ticket, asked how long it was until the next bus and was told 10 mins, so a brisk walk to the bus and boarded.  Pleasant surprise, not too full, comfortable reclining seats, leg room, not bad at all.

The journey is only 383 miles from  New York to Montreal, but takes over 8 hours on the bus, not including the passport control which we were warned could take a couple of hours alone.  Anyway anyone who knows me knows that even though I had slept almost the entire journey from Las Vegas to New York (around 5 hours) I napped on and off for most of this one, breaking occasionally when we stopped for more passengers and reading more Stephen King. 

After 3 hours or so we stopped for a 40 min break to change drivers, we were dumped into a dingy horrible bus terminal, the cafe was easily the most miserable I had seen, the choice of 5 or 6 cooked food items were unappealing even to someone who had survived on a milkshake for now nearly 24 hours, I had a grey cup of watery liquid and a dry muffin, I think it was blueberry and sawdust, and I am not sure about the blueberry.

When I was conscious the journey was quite pleasant, nice scenery but it was obvious that it was getting much colder as we headed north, snow was starting to show at the base of trees and in shaded areas.  After a few hours there was snow which had obviously been there for quite some time, and not long after that it was piled up all over the place.  By the time we got to the boarder it was five feet deep at the side of the roads.

Passport control was pretty quick, I would guess about 20 mins from getting off the bus, collecting our bags, walking through passport control and boarding again, I telephoned Ian to tell him I was now in Canada and about an hour away, he said he would meet me at the bus station. After a slight mix up where we were going to meet we caught the subway from the bus station to near his house, arriving around 9:30pm just a quick 34 hours or so since I arrived at Portland airport.  I really got into Staphen King’s Durma Key, its a good read.

Now I am at Ian’s I will be able to add pictures from my ‘proper’ camera.  More later.

It is so far out of the way up here that there is no telephone signal and of course for me no telephone means no Internet so no blog for me.
I awoke to bright sunshine, it was cool but gave the promise of at least good riding conditions. I set off and was still heading north on the coast road. After a few miles I noticed a nice looking diner and surprise surprise, a black Goldwing 1800 parked outside. I pulled over and went inside where I met athe owners, of the bike, a retired Las Angeles motorcycle cop and his wife. We chatted as usual and of course others joined in, when they left another guy started a conversation with me, and another surprise, a Lancastrian called something Carter, to my great shame I have forgotten his first name, but what a wonderful guy, we chatted about rugby league and loads of northern related subjects, it was great for both of us to get back to our roots. He married an American woman he met in New Orleans and now worked as an inn keeper and bar tender. We chatted for a while over good coffee and even better apple pie and of course we got onto the subject of my travels. When I mentioned I needed a city with a large airport, and I didn’t want to head south again to San Francisco he suggested going north on CA1 then taking 101 up to Portland Oregon, this would also give me the chance to see Giant redwoods, something I really wanted to see on this trip. It was around 250 miles away so I left and carried on.
If bikers had a chance to design a road especialy for themselves I doubt anyone could have designed a better one than the one I was now on. Breathtaking ocean views, deep forests, roads with banked curves and I mean really banked, long drops with views hidden by trees, then suddenly gorgeous rivers, then climbs and ocean views again. In the sunshine it was reasonable, in the shade of the forest it was quite cold. Anyway I eventually took the turning for The Avenue of the Giants, a 31 mile roadway of old 101 taking us through and past giant redwoods. The pictures you see of the Sequoya do not do them justice, they are mind blowing, with bases as large as a house they reach skywards, the tallest being 370ft, there is the 2nd, 4th and 6th tallest trees in the world here and are stunning. Because of the canopy of these incredible living creatures the iPhone camera could not register a picture in the twilight but of course I have pictures with the real camera which I will make available when I am able. Of course the solace and silence is wonderful and at this time of year I was alone most of the time. The new highway 101 is called the redwood highway and is a superb ride with picture postcard views continually revealing jaw dropping scenes of incredible beauty. I passed loverly little towns, valleys with houses nestled in the folds, shafts of smoke rising from chimneys, just great and very Waltons.
For no reason than it was on my now working iPhone map, I headed for Grants Pass on the 199, where I hoped I could find a place to stay and far enough to make the assault on Portland achieveable.
I had no idea Grants Pass is quite a big place, I found a cheap motel to stay and settled to watch Lost on TV.
In the morning after I checked the weather I started off, first finding that the cover on my bike was stiff with hard frost, and yes it was really cold. I again headed north but this time on I5 which is an interstate, so a freeway but not like one I have seen before. First of all the views, normally one thinks of motorways as boring places just simply quick routes, not this one. It drops into deep valleys, climbs into forests, follows rivers and has BENDS. One of the things I should have mentioned when I have talked about bends before is that motorists are warned of the severity of a bend with a sign, unlike British ones that give an idea of the bend with clues, here they give a speed that they think is achieveable, some I had done went down to as little as 15 mph on the coast road and forests which meant you were coming back on yourself. This is a motorway, so big rigs, multiple trailers etc and there are bends with posted 45 mph signs, which meant I was actually leaning right over which is kind of strange on this type of road. Anyway the temperture didn’t seem to rise much and after 100 miles or so I was really cold and I needed petrol anyway so I pulled into services. First surprise Oregon is one of only 2 states, the other being New Jersey where you cannot pump you own gas, it has to be done by an attendant but in a bizarre twist attendants don’t like doing bikes for fear of damaging paintwork on tanks, so they remove the nozzle and hand it to you, you fill up and hand the nozzle back which they then replace in the holster and of course you are stood next to each other whilst this is happening, but its a state law so who am I to ask, I couldn’t help grinning as this took place, I think the attendants thought I was a bit mental.
Anyway the sun did come out and it warmed a little but was still bitter cold. I needed a headlight bulb so I looked for a dealer and found Wingman was not far away, I had seen adverts in the past and knew it was a place to buy stuff for Goldwings so I headed for them.
The guys are really friendly, chatted about my trip, chatted about Egypt and travels generally, met a guy who was flying his bike to Europe, something he does quite often I think but I will check his website to confirm this and I will post his website address here for others to follow his progress.
As I mentioned I intend to break the journey here, go visit Ian in Montreal and then come back and continue up when the weather is more temperate so I need to store the bike somewhere safe and I may have met the gentleman who will do that for me. I will tell you about him in the next thrilling instalment.
Sent from my iPhone .

I think San Fran is my favourate city on this trip, well it ties with Las Vegas, but that’s unfair because Vegas is unlike anywhere.
I stayed at a motel 11 miles outside of town near the airport, the prices were cheaper and the drive in takes only about 15mins. The city is large but I found it pretty easy to find my way around the downtown area, which is where most of the major attractions are. It is just as you see it on TV and the movies, steep hills, trams and a really eclectic mixture of buildings, from old single storey to sky scrapers. Of course a lot of buildings are new due to the earthquakes which have in part helped fashion the city. The city has several areas dominated by a particular culture, a Chinese area, Hispanic etc and this gives the city a flavour which adds to its character.
As I said I started with a long bus tour, then headed to the waterfront areas where the old docks and piers have been transformed into restaurants, shops and entertainment centres, a bit commercial but very pedestrian friendly and a place where you can just wander. After booking in at the hotel and getting changed etc it was here I came to on the first night. I parked in one of the car parks which are free if you have your ticket validated by one of the participating restaurants, it then was a bit of a struggle for me to find somewhere to eat as nearly all of the restaurants were seafood, of course I was on a pier, by the ocean, where fishermen landed thier catch, so I should have known, but for some reason all this did not enter my head when I chose to park, I guess because I don’t consider any of that food in any way it did not strike me that anyone could possibly eat that stuff. I ended up having a rather sad burger while all around me people were eating crabs and lobster and clam chouder and other slimy creepy crawlies, there was even a couple opposite eating oysters which was the first time I had ever seen anyone eat them in person, I had seen it on TV etc, it put me off my burger and I left most of it. Of course there were tanks full of live crabs and lobsters, and the place stank of seafood, for someone who detests the very idea of seafood not the place to be. Anyway I survived the restaurant as wandered the shops, selling the usual crappy T shirts and gifts that only look good where you buy them, as soon as you bring them home or give them to someone you realise how tacky they are, but really interesting and good fun.
The second day I parked up and walked for miles, visiting the civic areas and walking the streets just enjoying the city, I also took a trolley bus and a tram, went to dock area again and took a ferry boat out into the bay, under the Golden Gate and round Alcatraz, a really pleasant trip, I was surprised at how small the main prison on Alcatraz was, I don’t know why but I kind of expected a huge complex like the ones you see now, with thousands of inmates, this is kind of small, at least compared to its fame. I ate at the Hard Rock cafe, got into conversation with a couple then a couple of ladies, usual stuff, the journey etc, spent a couple of very pleasnt hours and a couple of beers.
I won’t bore you with all the stuff I did, just to say San Fracisco is a nice city with plenty to do and see. I left the city an rode to Sauceslito (not sure of the spelling) which is just the other side of the bay and over the Golden Gate bridge, which I love riding because it gives such a wonderful view of the bay one side and the ocean the other, the rode on to Sant Rosa which is in wine country and I rode past miles of fields of vines, at this time of year just bare stumps in long rows. Sausalito and Santa Rosa are loverly little towns and have a small friendly, little village kind of feel. I was unsure of where to go next so I decided to default to my old favorite CA1, the coast road which had given me such spectacular and fun rides in the past.
I hit the road at a place called Bodega Bay and turned north. I told you before of the spectacular road and Big Sur, well as far as I am concerned the road gets more fantastic and the views more exhilarating from Bodega Bay northwards. Again I won’t bore you with trying to describe the incredible climbs and descents, the twists which sometimes sharp bends which you imagine you can almost see you own exhaust pipes they are so sharp and always the beautiful ocean shining on your left, towering forests to your right, then farmland, bridges crossing wide creeks and the view changes every couple of yards, fantastic. I carried on for hours, but eventually the sky was getting darker and I started looking for a place to stop. I stopped at a loverly motel in Gualala called the Surf motel, as you can guess it is on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The owner Eric was interested in my journey and I bored him with my tales for a while then went to the supermarket next carpark, bought some stuff to make sandwiches and ate at a picnic bench watching the sunset, not a bad way to spend some time.
The weather is still a concern, even the southern states I have visited are mentioned on the weather reports, some having snowfalls for the first time in years, others having warnings of tornadoes. I am way north and heading to cooler areas at this time of year, I have to think about breaking the journey soon.
Sent from my iPhone .

This is possibly the most famous street in San Francisco, which of course I had to ride down, silly but fun.

Sent from my iPhone

I came north up the coast on CA1 and continued north when I saw the signs for the Golden Gate bridge. Just after the bridge there is a large car park which was built to give excellent views of the bridge and the bay. I then picked up a tour bus that took me on a two hour tour of San Francisco. When I returned I saw these two bikes. They had just been picked up (the bikes had 9 miles on them) and were bought by two couples of New Zealanders who are touring here, then flying the bikes to Europe and touring there then shipping them to New Zealand, all on untested, new, and as far as I can see bikes that won’t have the support network available to them.
I wish my best for them and pleasant journeys.

Sent from my iPhone

I had been in LA for long enough, there is still more to see here but if I stayed a month I guess there would still be more, however I felt it was time to move on. Today (Sunday) its the LA marathon and some roads are going to be closed which is not really a big deal for me, the place is so vast it would be easy to find a route past but I wanted to set off so I was away for around 8:15. I needed to hit the coast road, the one I hit briefly when I entered Santa Monica.
The coast road or CA1 as it is designated follows the coast pretty closely all the way to San Francisco, sometimes coming inland a few miles but for most of the time it has wonderful ocean views. One of the most spectacular parts of this coast road is call Big Sur and that is the part I have been advised to ride. Guy told me to do it and even back in Florida it was mentioned along with Big Bend and the Grand Canyon as places that were a ‘must’.
Riding was good, I had filled up the bike, the sun was shining the road was not busy and the ocean with beautiful waves and crashing surf was a few hundred yards to my left. At one point the road climes and turned a corner and in the distance I could see loads of black specs in the ocean bobbing about which I took to be seals or some black sea bird, as I got closer I realised it was surfers, all queueing up to catch the big waves, I pulled over and watched for a few minutes. I did get caught in some roadworks which took about half an hour to clear, but as that was the worst on the entire journey so far I cannot really complain.
The journey was great but the best was yet to come, the Big Sur is fantastic, the views stunning, I again was driven to exclaim out loud uncontrollably at some of the magnificent views. The road climbs several hundred feet, twisting and turning up the cliff face a only to drop you in the same manner all the time the ocean is in front of you, behind you and filling your eyesight all the way to the horizon, the sunlight turning the blue green to gold. Its a single road each way most of the way and because of the time of year I had the road to myself most of the time, whenever I did catch up with a car after a few minutes, when they were able they pulled aside to let me through. I wanted to ride in a manner which would give the most enjoyment but at the same time the views were so incredible, so even though I rode quickly, I was wearing sandals again and I saw in the hotel later they have a whole side scraped off so much so I must throw them away, I kept pulling into vista points to gaze at the views. It struck me that we have a facination with the sea, we love looking at it even when it is stormy, love swimming in it, love sailing on it, why? It is an alien and quite unforgiving place for us, we are not well adapted to it, but it draws us.
Anyway the road also goes through some gorgeous forest, in which is the Big Sur station. I pulled in and found a fantastic hotel come restaurant and information centre. The hotel was far too expensive for me, and it was still a little early so I had a coffee and a Bears Claw, ok but not a fantastic pastry and carried on.
I am not going to go on and on about the road, it was great, you need to experience it to understand just how great. The coast road continued and I pulled into a particularly busy car park to see what the fuss was. It was a load of Elephant seals which come to breed and bring up the pups before heading out to sea. We were fairly high on the cliff so we were not disturbing them, but I got some photos, which may be alright.
It was starting to get cooler, of was after 4:00pm and the next town was Carmel which I had been warned was an expensive place and I should travel through to get to some cheaper places beyond. It was now that the GPS, which had been giving problems intemitantly (check spelling) decided to go haywire and start doing all sorts of things as if someone was continually pressing the touch screen. Anyway I managed to find a motel the old fashioned way looking for roadsigns.
It was after 8:00pm by the time I settled into my room, a long days riding, but a very satisfying one.
Tomorrow carry on CA1 and San Fransico.
Sent from my iPhone .

Sent from my iPhone

A poor picture of an incredible place, report to follow.

Sent from my iPhone