Wednesday 8th May - Have Done it!

As I write this I really am quite excited. I’m sitting in a “coffee Bean” on Santa Monica Boulevard Beverley Hills and have about 5 miles to do to get to the end of Route 66 – yes will have done all of it.  BUT I hear you say “Why not get on and finish it then?”  Well, the traffic won’t let me. It’s now 4.40 pm and it’s at a standstill. |I can filter a bit but the temperature has now gone right up and the bike is so hot it isn’t worth it – so a regular Americano and a Lemon and Poppy Seed Muffin won out.

I didn’t intend to get this far today and the day didn’t start well. I was quite tired last night, did nearly 300 miles and missed calling in at Victorville where the California Route 66 Museum is. So as it was only 7 miles back I decided to drop back and see that. Lovely drive back but the museum was closed – oh hum!

So turn round and go west young man again – to San Bernardino some  35 miles on through the Cajon Pass. I know the Rustyplough list of superlatives is the biggest – another one – but I hadn’t expected that drive through/over the pass – WOW!  Talk about shouting into your crash helmet. It’s a slow pull up but when you crest at the pass at 4000ft the world drops away,  Two majestic sweeps of  tarmac, concrete whatever – the  east and west carriageways take different routes –the San Bernardino and San Gabriel mountains all around and so many  rail lines that it looked like a model railway set. It was cloudy and at that elevation, cold – about 12°C but at last the bike was on roads it was made for and enjoy it I did!  

The road followed the valley side until San Bernardino and although I needed to swing west from there directly to the coast I wanted to call in and see the 1928 California Theatre where a lot of old movie stars started.

 

I had studied the route across LA from San Bernardino to the end of 66 at the coast many times in many different books and it all seemed terrible complicated – one even saying that the ride could take a day so I had resigned myself to staying somewhere on the way.  However once I got onto the Old Route it was really easy with great signs both on the side and on elaborate brick surfaces on the road. Each town, although blurring into one another seemed to want to acknowledge and celebrate its place on the route.

 

 

The wasn't all main road like that though, sometimes it closed in and went past old individual homes...

 

I stopped at some of the sights I had read about but some were a bit difficult to get to or traffic/positioning made it a bit dicey so into the memory bank they went.

My first main stop was at the Wigwam Motel where I spent a good 20 minutes talking to the part owner.

 

I was tempted to stay there the night and finish in the morning but he was good enough to suggest it was a hit far out and that I should get much nearer before calling it a day.  So on I went and right along Foothills Boulevard towards Santa Monica.

The ride was magical and as the clouds cleared and the sun shone through I kinda got the urge to see the sunset on the Pacific and metaphorically therefore on my 66 Odyssey.

When I wasn’t rolling or filtering there was always someone willing to chat through their window. Talked to a young couple in a 1969 Beetle that hadn’t so much been restored as lovingly maintained and then by contrast the driver of this transporter which I managed to snap from the bike

 

                                        yes, it’s a Lamborghini – what else would it be -  it was Beverley Hills.

As I drove along the Hollywood sign came into view on the hills to my right

 

 

            and then I was in Beverly Hills proper.  A bit of a place of contrasts at that moment. As I stopped to take a photo of the sign

 

 

 

this guy was on the grass where I parked. 

 

 I don’t know if he was content or not, he certainly did not want any money but I can bet he didn’t have much.

Contrast that with this piece of “art” near him , which you were asked not to limb on!

 

 

 How much had the good burgers of Beverley Hills paid for that?  Who was it said the definition of Art is what you can get away with! (No it wasn’t Andy Warhol – he pinched it!)

Parked in Beverley Hills - just because I could ...

Anyway, as the miles clicked away to Santa Monica Beach and Route 66’s end the traffic got heavier and heavier and the temperature climbed so, here I am.  One coffee and a muffin later I’m thinking of going out and finishing.

Got back into the traffic flow and it was moving a little faster, saw why a little later when I stopped by one of the traffic officers controlling a major junction. Amazing how she could manage the chaos, totally ignoring the lights and still find time to chat with me.

Then, I crested a rise and saw the Pacific Ocean! I could have – ok, I did – cried!

I had done it, ridden my dream! Looking at the clock tower it was almost dead on 6pm.

 

3265 Miles on the Route, nearly 4000 in all.

Parked in the street and went looking for the “End of Route 66” sign which appeared to be missing.  I wandered down on to the pier

 and there it was – so off to pick up the bike for the obligatory photos. Ian, the guy from the kiosk obliged.

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Then left the hurly burly of the pier and went down to the beach for some quiet reflection – soaked it all up for a couple of hours watching the sun go down.  Won’t go on.

Was getting dark and colder by the time I decided I’d better get on the road and find somewhere to sleep. Hit Highway 1 South to San Diego. Pulled off the highway an hour later, didn’t honestly know where I was, found a hotel with a guy that not only had a room but said he had a great place to park my bike. Was too tired to take that in so just put it where he said and went to bed. Wow, what a place I woke up to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday 7th May - Return to The Old Road

Up early wanted to get across some of desert before the temp rose to the 35°C of the previous days. A high point was to be seeing Roy’s Café again, an iconic place at Amboy.

 Had coffee and a cinnabon for breakfast. That probably exceeded my recommended calorie intake threefold but looking for a healthy breakfast in Vegas is like bears eating marmots – they love them but expend more energy catching them than they get from eating them – see what a wildlife expert I’m becoming.

Just to stress a point – see below – I thought I’d better explain what a cinnabon is for those less travelled or more discerning. SO, I googled cinnabon and lo and behold you get “Cinnabon - World Famous Cinnamon Rolls” yeah, right, who’s world!

Collected the bike from the terrific Bike Park the hotel had – apart from a couple of rental scooters the only other guests using it were a couple of bikers from San Diego – again though, they weren’t on Harleys!

 

Getting out of Vegas was easy, but even at that time I wouldn’t have liked to be coming in – already is was nose to tail – can’t believe I’m discussing riding My bike in Vegas!

As I crested the rise at the south of the city I saw the road I wanted, heading to the old road, 100 odd miles south.

The terrain at the side of the road between the hills had a fresh green look which I tried to capture and failed. This was though an illusion as when you got closer you saw that the greenness was created by small shrubs which together, like pixels on a digital photo, created the image but between them the land was rocky and dry.

 

Then I had to stop and put a fleece on – I was cold. The weather is just plain awkward.  It was 18° but in the usual wind it felt chilly.

As you drive the desert your mind wanders – I know mine sometime clears off altogether – and deep philosophical thoughts enter your head. For example I’m driving an “old” road, but in reality it’s not that old compared to the time creatures have roamed the earth… soooo what did they call Road Runners before there were roads?
Left Nevada and into California – felt good.

I love trains, well I would wouldn’t I. I remember a dear uncle telling me when I was knee high to the proverbial that trains had to be “double-headers” to get over Shap Fell and I felt really grown up knowing about “double –headers” Well here I’ve seen quadruple headers and been impressed but today caps it all, this train passed me with 8 engines pulling it - must have been a cinnabon delivery!

Met this chap trying to cross the road and admit it was a bit of a surprise, didn’t realise that there were tortoises in these parts, but yes, the Desert Tortoise (Gopherus agassizii) is native to the Mojave Desert. Anyway, Froggy liked him.

Then came long stretches of road of classic Route 66 ilk – so lots of shots.

A wonderful sight as I drove along these bits were the number of “dust-devils” that I could see in the desert – at one point there were 5 all going at the same time. Of course as soon as I got the camera out they collapsed but it was an amazing sight seeing them dance along as though just for me.

I also so this in the distance – knew it couldn’t be a glacier but boy did it look like it.On getting closer it is obviously some kind of quarying operation but I can’t seem to find out what. Any answers?

This put paid to my lunch plans…..

 

Arrived at Roy’s Café full of expectation. Opened in 1938 as a gas station and Motel Roy’s had gone the way of many of the Route 66 businesses. I had been there several years ago when it was just being renovated but not yet re-opened. The guy doing the renovation had been terrific and I’d warmed to the place. The toilets at that time were a couple of portaloos which harboured the Black Death.  Well, now there are modern toilets but that’s about all that’s changed. The place was a bitter disappointment and the guy that worked there certainly didn’t want to be there.

 

 

 

 

There’s a sharp contrast sometimes in the perception of what is and what is not significant. I’ve already mentioned the “world famous” tag that seems to get applied to everything from pie shops to … well cinnamon rolls.   On the other hand, some things of genuine uniqueness miss the mark.

I was standing by my bike outside Roy’s when a “good ol boy” approached me and opened the conversation with “How do you like the desert?” Being a refined Englishman I said “very well thank you” and then followed on in true English tradition by commenting on how cold it had been though.

He didn’t respond to that just said “yup, strange things can happen in the desert in these parts” – honest, this is nearly verbatim – and then went on “This was Charles Manson’s area you know”  Now, when someone with a grin which resembles a vandalised graveyard starts talking about Charles Manson certain parts start twitching. So, trying to head him off I pointed to what I knew to be the Amboy Crater. Is that a volcano I asked, “Don’t know, but she will, she knows everything” Oh lawd there’s another of them! When “she” came out of the ladies  he asked her “Maybelline (ok, I made that bit up, but she ought to have been called that) is that a volcano?” “ Hell no it’s just a pile of dirt they’ve pushed up”  I’m sure the Department of Interior will be really disappointed in her advocacy for the area.

“Hey, didn’t Charles Manson operate around here?” he went on, “He stayed in the motel one night” says “she” “ Oh, he stayed in the motel.” They drove off.

Just a note, looking at the interweb it appears that it is a common misconception that Manson had anything to do with THIS Amboy. He was born in Amboy, New Jersey.

As I left Roy’s the terrain began to be covered in black volcanic rock, well it would be wouldn’t it, it had a big pile of dirt spewing lava all over it til 500 years ago.

Drove along the worst bit of road of the whole trip for some 7 miles – the old concrete slab with the top worn off. Each yard had me convinced the tyres would be ripped to shreds and the bike shaken to bits – got a little down with his as it went on for so long and I had been “dreaming” of getting to the end of the Route. Still it did come to an end and bike still running at the moment!

As with many of the “attractions”, world famous or otherwise they did not always appear as glamorous in the flesh as in the books or on TV. I think this bottle farm appeared on the Billy Connelly program – but actually it was rather naff.

 



And on to Barstow for the night. Tomorrow San Bernardino and LA!

 

Monday 6th May - Las Vegas, Nevada

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!

If I put that you can all think of the "Prince Harry" moments I had, yes! 

Dream on!

Sunday 5th May Via Oatman to Vegas

Off on the final stretch of the old road in Arizona today and on to California

The migrants in the thirties drove along this part of the route thinking they were nearing California but as the progressed west they saw these hills looming and must have wondered how they would cross them, 

 

 But cross they did following a winding, cliff side hugging road, so steep in parts that they had to reverse up. I’ve always thought they did that because reverse gear is lower than first. That is part of it, but I now know from talking to the old guy in Kingman that it was also because most of those early vehicles had gravity fed fuel systems and if they went up too steep a hill the engine starved of fuel. Ok, boring!

However, when they got to the top, instead of seeing a green land of riches they simply saw more of the same desolate landscape.

 

These hills once held gold – perhaps still do if you are patient or lucky enough - but their mines have now been abandoned. When the miners moved out they set loose their burros which they neither needed nor could afford to keep. Descendants of those burros – I don’t know how long a burro generation is - now roam the area wild. These two went along with the “what the …” theme.

Nestled on the west side of the hills is Oatman. Bypassed by the Interstate in 1952 it is a gold mining town  which is trying, and succeeding, just, to survive by being a living museum of its past.

 

Then a long drive down from Oatman to Needles and across the Colorado to California.

At this point I doubled back along the Interstate to Kingman and up the 93 as I wanted to go to Las Vegas and see the Hoover Dam and Boulder City on the way.

The road to the dam was a beautiful sweeping road with views of the Colorado River of he the west and of course the Hoover Dam is on the river.

 

When I was last at the Hoover Dam you could drive across it but they were in the process of building a massive bridge across the gorge above the dam as a by-pass. This time that bridge was finished and in use and in fact all road traffic across the dam has been stopped. You can though still park up and walk across but the day had been too long for that.

 and Vegas called!