On The Road, Pt. V

After a few days of sand, surf and sun, it was time to head back inland.  By this time, I had my morning routine and bike packing down to the point where I could do it in my sleep.  I fueled myself up, then the bike and headed off a bit later than I wanted.  I really wanted sleep in but the road beckoned.

Before I began my day properly, I went down to the beach one last time to take a picture of my bike with the ocean.  It was to be my proof that I actually made it and didn't make the whole thing up.  Picture over with, it was time to go home.  I went to put my ear plugs in only to find one was missing.  Great.  This necessitated a stop at Lowe's and of course, the guy behind the counter asked if I was on a bike.  That's why this genius is working at Lowe's.

This trip's trend of weather variances continued as I was chilly by the ocean and got hotter as I moved farther inland.  Something else weird was that I stopped admiring the scenery and got on with the business of riding.  Maybe it was because I was going the same way and had seen this stuff before but I had my eyes set on Prescott, AZ and not on the ride.

Coming down the Pines to Palms Highway, which is just as brilliant going this way, I again had to put on some extra clothing.  Then I had to take it off again when I got to the desert.  It's just amazing that in two hours, I went from ocean to mountain to desert.  Didn't I say that last time?

Anyway, I blew through Palm Desert and Indio, hopping back on I-10 to begin the drudgery of the slab.  I made my next gas stop at a service station that was also home to the George Patton museum and some other small stores.  It's an odd place to have this since there's nothing around for miles except this.

Gas tank full and bladder empty, it was back on the road for some more slab.  The hot gusts of wind were mercifully absent this time.  The miles clicked off ever so slowly until it was time to pull off in Blythe for gas and lunch.  My choice for lunch was a Subway, which had been the choice for lunch on the road every other day, too.  You're welcome, Jared.

I dismounted my bike and went to put my ear plugs in my right jacket pocket when I noticed something odd.  The pocket was unzipped and there was no camera in it.  Frantic, I searched everywhere for it until the realization set in: it fell out of my pocket.  Some point during the day, I forgot to zip up the pocket and my camera was somewhere along the road in California.  There went all my pics, including the one from the morning in front of the ocean.  Now you know why there aren't any pics in these posts.

Pissed off, I ate quickly, got gas and hit the road.  After hours of straight line drudgery and sweltering heat, I made it to Congress, AZ.  I would be heading up the mountains and beginning the final push to Prescott.  After a long day of sweating, I was looking forward to the cooler temps and more exciting roads.

As I left Congress, an Audi A7 followed and looked like it wanted to play.  I'm fine with that, I thought, and carried on at a swift pace.  The road leading up to Prescott is a joyous collection of tight bends, fast sweepers and short straights.  My Bonneville, even with all that weight on the back and my fists of ham, handled the road brilliantly.  It makes the case for a pure sports bike difficult when such a normal machine can perform so well. 

The Audi became a smaller and smaller speck in my mirrors until I got cold and pulled over to put my flannel back on.  Using my motorcyclist spider sense, I could see the clouds getting darker and more abundant.  Smiling at the thought of more rain (why not?), I put on the wind breaker, too. 

Sure enough, I was greeted with rain in Prescott.  I rode through a slight drizzle but I could hear booms of thunder and see the lightning.  Either I had just missed the storm or was on the front edge of it.  I set my GPS for the hotel and rode through town.  It's a nice place, Prescott, with loads of small town charm.  Also there was the Audi.

I eyed a few restaurants I'd like to try but my route kept taking me further away from town.  The further I got, the less I wanted to ride back and I wasn't walking that far.  Finally, I reached the hotel, quite a distance from Prescott, and got a room.  The manager even let me park my bike under the awning, which was great because it started to rain as soon as I got there.  Pickings were slim for dinner, so I grabbed a few things from a grocery store and ate that.  Whatever; it was dinner and I was hungry.

Aside from the rain in Prescott, the day had been fantastic.  I had clear skies and great weather all day and the bike never missed a beat again.  I was starting to break down, though.  Really, I just wanted to go home to my bed.  Losing my camera was the real black eye on the day.  I'm still pissed about it and I have no one to blame but me.

Stay tuned for Part VI.