We had breakfast in Dennys, one of us healthy, the other not. I can still feel the butter from the grits!
We decided that we would try to hit Bruce's, in Vegas by tonight, unless circumstances or whim dictated otherwise. We picked a route which, unfortunately, included a fair chunk of I 40, to start with, . but there was no apparent way of avoiding it. The rain virtually stopped, and the skies brightened a bit, so we loaded the bikes and headed west. Kev wasn't even bothered about seeing the Wig Wam Motel, which I think was a shame for him but there you go.
Having decided to give The Grand Canyon a miss, as we'd both seen it before and it would have added a lot of miles to our journey, we were going to do the very hackneyed "Standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona," as the Eagles sang. Optimistically, we hit the road - without waterproofs, but wearing jackets. You know what happened, of course - it rained harder and harder, as we headed towards Flagstaff.
It soon became apparent that we were heading into the weather, but within 5 miles we were starting to get soaked. As I was leading on the road, there was no way I wanted to stand, cold and soaking, on a corner in Winslow, Arizona so I rode straight past it. I didn't want to stop before we re-fuelled, in Flagstaff. Arriving there, we got gas, had a coffee and put our waterproofs on.
I phoned Bruce, in Vegas, to say that we'd be there tonight - subject to unforeseen events - and Bill, in California, to check it was OK to have parts delivered to him, for fitting to the bikes or bringing home in luggage. The sky was getting darker and darker, with thunder and lightning all around
Almost as soon as we left the filling station it began to rain, absolutely torrential, stinging, sheets of water. Within seconds the road was a couple of inches deep in running water and all you could do was follow the vehicle in front. I may have said we'd ridden thro' heavy rain earlier on this trip, but I lied - this was heavy rain! In minutes the rain had seeped into the crotch of my oversuit and worked its way round to my arse, simultaneously working its way down from my neck Yuk.It didn't last too long, thank goodness, but long enough to make one feel really.uncomfortable.
We pressed on, heading for Peach Springs, on a loop of the historic Route 66. We stopped once for gas, at Ash Fork, and once for coffee, at Hackberry General Stores, a real Route 66 tourist trap,.
We headed on to Kingman, where we filled the bikes again, before hitting US 93 to Las Vegas.
As we rode thro' the Mojave Desert, it was getting hotter and hotter as we were getting nearer to Vegas. We crossed into Nevada at the Hoover Dam, but I'd left the GPS set to avoid highways so it took us ages going through the suburbs of Vegas, rather than on the beltway. By the time we were nearly at Bruce's, in North Las Vegas, the GPS was telling us to turn both left and right simultaneously, the fucker! Kev fired up his Tom Tom, which seemed to be OK, but I phoned Bruce, anyway. He met us, a couple of roads from his house, and within five minutes we were sitting inn the back yard drinking cold beer. Yay!
Today's hot and wet one
I phoned Bruce, in Vegas, to say that we'd be there tonight - subject to unforeseen events - and Bill, in California, to check it was OK to have parts delivered to him, for fitting to the bikes or bringing home in luggage. The sky was getting darker and darker, with thunder and lightning all around
Almost as soon as we left the filling station it began to rain, absolutely torrential, stinging, sheets of water. Within seconds the road was a couple of inches deep in running water and all you could do was follow the vehicle in front. I may have said we'd ridden thro' heavy rain earlier on this trip, but I lied - this was heavy rain! In minutes the rain had seeped into the crotch of my oversuit and worked its way round to my arse, simultaneously working its way down from my neck Yuk.It didn't last too long, thank goodness, but long enough to make one feel really.uncomfortable.
We pressed on, heading for Peach Springs, on a loop of the historic Route 66. We stopped once for gas, at Ash Fork, and once for coffee, at Hackberry General Stores, a real Route 66 tourist trap,.
We headed on to Kingman, where we filled the bikes again, before hitting US 93 to Las Vegas.
As we rode thro' the Mojave Desert, it was getting hotter and hotter as we were getting nearer to Vegas. We crossed into Nevada at the Hoover Dam, but I'd left the GPS set to avoid highways so it took us ages going through the suburbs of Vegas, rather than on the beltway. By the time we were nearly at Bruce's, in North Las Vegas, the GPS was telling us to turn both left and right simultaneously, the fucker! Kev fired up his Tom Tom, which seemed to be OK, but I phoned Bruce, anyway. He met us, a couple of roads from his house, and within five minutes we were sitting inn the back yard drinking cold beer. Yay!
Today's hot and wet one
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