March 19
Having realised my error in navigation, we turned left and right a bit and eventually, I managed to get us out of town. The first part of the ride was an initiation into riding in the US for H. In the same way that some American's are still absolutely convinced we have fog on a daily basis in London, most Europeans believe that US drivers crawl around at 55 mph. The average speed on an Interstate in the USA is 70 and that's just the godzillion hp trucks. American truck drivers would hoot with laughter if you told them that European lorries don't exceed 60. These rigs are big, long and fast. If you go under one of them then it's all over. In fact, if you fall off, by the time drivers have stopped reading, shaving, eating or looking at the television, it's all too late. The little bump you make as they mow you down would register naught. Fast lane switching is (just about) legal as is overtaking on both sides. Mirror dicipline and head swivels are pretty much vital for a bike rider.
After twenty minutes or so of this roller-coaster ride, we managed to break off towards the west and in a few minutes, we picked up an altogether nicer road, State Route 1, otherwise known as the Pacific Coast Highway. Now, I was able to slow the bike down to a happy 55 mph and listen to the soulfull "blatter-blatter" from the exhaust. The sun was warm on my face and a breeze washed across from the ocean on my right where, across the horizon more than 2500 miles away lay the Hawaiian Islands. After that, it's another 5000 miles before the Northern tip of Australia hoves into view. No doubt about it, that's a big ocean!
Our first stop to gather our thoughts and have a bit of lunch was Dana Point. We rode the bikes into the harbour lot and as they grumbled up to the parking bay, people, as usual, stopped what they were doing and looked. When they realised that the bikes were delivering nothing more than a couple of middle-aged Wild Hog's wannabees, they quickly lost interest. H and I stopped the motors, swung off the bikes, pulled of our helmets and looked at each other as if we'd crossed the desert - rather than just ridden 30 miles. Putting away our silly grins and slipping on the shades we walked into The Harbor Grill where we could guard our steeds with loving glances from the table.
The restaurant specialises in Fish dishes (Dana itself is a fish-crazy town)and their unique selling point is they have a well stocked herb garden attached. I started with some Scallops in a Lime sauce whereas H cracked on with a plate of Oysters. For the Entree course, I had a plain grilled Salmon and H had the seabass. We washed it all down with..well, a bottle of water. The meal came to $80 which while not cheap for the States is still pretty good value for fresh fish. The service and atmosphere was just right.
The weather had really warmed up by now and I was looking forward to the final ride down to San Diego. In the UK, I tend to ride with a full face helmet and I was disappointed by the buffeting this caused on my Road King. However, the half-face made a big difference. Minimal vibration, much more vision and an open-air feel that brought back memories of riding my first bike (a Jawa 90) some 38 years ago. The open helmet however, was going to come back and bite me later on the trip.
Soon we passed through San Clemente and then came to a long, clear strech of road bordered on the left by Camp Pendleton, home of the US Marines. They must have been somewhere else as all appeared very quiet. Heading south still at a steady 55, the next town was Oceanside which once again, welcomed us with a large marina full of leisure and fishing boats. Passing thru, we soon came to Carlsbad. This is a beautiful, upmarket town and to my mind, epitomises the successful American Dream. Money is in evidence everywhere. Not just because of the obvious wealth of homeowners and Rolls Royce drivers but the infrastructure is also good. I'm guessing that taxes are pretty steep but the result is scenic beauty and good roads. Certainly, a place to stop next time but for now, San Diego is in striking distance and the Corona's are calling. Thirty minutes later, we ride into West Ash Street, San Diego and in front of us is the entrance to the covered car park of the Best Western. As this is our first night, paranoia steps in and we lash the bikes together with the various cables and padlocks provided by Eaglerider. I then turned my attention to the RiggPak and begin what will turn out to be the regular show for H's amusement where I struggle with the Velcro "snakes" while removing the luggage. Eventually, we arrive at check-in and I'm given a more than adequate room on the third floor. Despite only having done 120 miles (or 109 depending on whose GPS is to be believed) I feel pleasantly tired. A quick shower and change and we're ready for the first Corona's and a trip out to town.

March 19
Grabbing our bags, helmets and GPS, we followed our agents out into the lot and the warm Californian sunshine. Two bikes had already been moved into the loading area. A red Electra Glide and a jet black (is there really any other colour for a Harley?) Heritage Softail Classic. We were given a quick walkround to look at dents or scratches and (there were a few but not serious)after signing yet another form, that was it, we were at last on our own with the bikes. The bike was lower and more compact than my Road King Classic. Just swinging my leg over quickly, I was pleased to feel the balance low down and the 26 inch seat meant that my 30 inch inside legs were actually bent at the knees. This is a great bike for smaller riders. Hopping off, I now turned my attention to luggage. Because the Road King had been in for a service, I hadn't been able to check the fitting so this was going to be a learning experience.
The RiggPak is very well designed. For it to work, you must have a sissy-bar but you don't need a rack..unless you are two-up when you will have to have one.
Single rider, you can rest the pack on the passenger seat. However, I had a rack so decided to use that method. On the back of the pack, there is a zipped cover which when undone, reveals five velcro straps, one above the other, running the width of the pack. The trick is to undo each of these and slide them over the sissy-bar. When tight, they firmly lash the main pack to the sissy-bar. Finally, the cover is zipped up and the whole package looks quite neat. The roll bag is then attached by four snap-loks to the main bag and that's it. I'll show a photo of the installed system in a later posting.
For now, after all the planning, travelling and general faffing about, we were actually able to start riding. We loaded our individual Tom-Tom's with the first journey sector. We were heading to the Bayside Best Western in San Diego and my GPS told me it was 125 miles. H's showed 109. This was to prove a fascination to us throughout our tour. Same GPS's, set up with the same preferences, yet mine determined to route us through Nicaragua at every possible opportunity...
I flicked almost identical switches to my Road King and the Heritage burst into life with that trademark initial thump. Checking over my shoulder that H was ready, I slipped the clutch, eased us out onto the road and started our tour...in completely the wrong direction.

March 19
An excellent breakfast of..well, everything available actually, was settling nicely so we checked out of the hotel and waited by the door for our pick-up to Eaglerider. The sun was warm and we were in T-shirts and shorts. Very different clothes from the airline crew and business people waiting for their shuttles to the airport. This felt good, for the first time in a long while I was staying in a business hotel with not a thought of work in my immediate future! My happiness was increased as through the traffic came a crew cab pick-up truck in those famous orange/black colours of the MoCo. The door opened and out jumped a guy straight from central casting for Harley Davidson riders..well, the one's the public expect to see anyway. Carl was er..large, with a shaved head and goatee. A selection of tatoos around his neck poked through his polo shirt and his arms..well, there wasn't any spare flesh. I noticed that the throng around us had become quiet as this sunglassed behemoth arrived. Spotting us, he thrust his hand out and spoke in a strange American/Scandinavian accent. "Velcome zu LA dudes, I'm your ride to ze World Headqvaters." With that voice, I guess if he lost ninety pounds or so he might give Arnie a run for his money. The audience now flicked their gazes to us. I shook his hand as firmly as I dared and muttered something like "Great job, man" but the spell was broken when H, smiled politely and said "Oh, jolly good, thanks very much."
Obviously, thought the crowd, we were a couple of Harley frauds so they lost interest and returned to their business conversations and in-flight stories.
Carl proved to be quite chatty and a nice guy. We didn't have too much time to talk as within five minutes, we had arrived. My heartbeat quickened as I saw twenty or thirty Harleys of different flavours lined up in the parking lot. However, we were steered firmly into the showroom/office where we were each assigned a representative.
Being America, now started a process whereby we paradoxically had to sign numerous insurance forms for the bikes, ourselves, the public at large and every possible calamity that could befall us. We then were required to sign forms which told us that we were engaging in a highly dangerous activity that would, in all likelyhood, kill us or leave us horribly injured. Finally, we signed umpteen papers saying that if the former occurred, the owners, employees, their friends, families, distant relatives twice removed could not be held in any way responsible. I just signed the bloody things. "Right" says I, "now take me to my bike!" "Soon." said the nice check-in agent. Another ream of paper was required before the Tom-Tom GPS could be released to me together with a natty little binder which contained our route and other travel information. At last, it was done and I noticed H had taken a similarly pragmatic view. The "inclusive" rental helmets looked exactly as I thought they would (manky WWII SS Stormtrooper look alikes) so we carried out our plan to buy a couple of open face lids. Good quality and only about $120. So yet another helmet added to the collection..
Now, we were ready to go out to the lot and get on the bikes.

March 18
Coming off the ten hour flight, we were pretty pleased that, having grabbed our bags, the hotel shuttle bus was waiting just outside the exit door. We were the last on, so we had a non-stop five minute journey to the Hilton LAX. I first stayed here in the mid-eighties but like a number of ageing Californians, the hotel had a few facelifts since then. As with Virgin, Hilton has been my hotel of choice for many years so as well as getting a couple of rooms on points for the night, Hilton kindly upgraded us to a suite each. However, the bar and restaurant were calling so after a quick shower I met up with H in the bar and we downed a couple of Corona's with a slice in short order. The restaurant was French themed but bless their cotton socks..., as with all American restaurants, it's really just good plain food that they ruin by coating it in something vaguely ethnic. I had a thick, juicy "Fillet Mignon a Parisienne" which, when I pushed the sauce to the side, was as good as any regular Texas Angus beef steak. H went for a catch-of-the-day Swordfish so we split a bottle of Rose between us and after a medicinal brandy to help us sleep, I crashed out, ready to start the real business of the week tomorrow.

March 18
As previously mentioned, I've been lucky enough to fly with Virgin Atlantic for a while so although we aren't getting up to the front of the plane, I still have access to the Virgin Lounge. The first lounge at Heathrow was nice and intimate but then, as happens, it started to get crowded so the new one was opened a few years back. When on business, there never seems to be enough time to relax and enjoy the place but H, who I've just met up with and I have just turned into kids in a sweet shop. What to do first - drink, eat, hair, massage, play with Nintendo's...?
In the end we have a really good breakfast and I sit back to watch the news with a mucho-loto-caffe-choco-latte thing and H is taken away by a very attractive girl to have his hair blow dried.
My TV watching is briefly disturbed as I become aware of a level of noise and I look up to see Gwyneth Paltrow, her husband, kids and the rest of Coldplay arrive. They are very friendly and Gwyneth is happy to chat to other parents with children and have photo's taken. After that they settle down to their own breakfasts.
Ninety minutes later, the boarding call comes out for us and we make our way to the gate. Although we are travelling Economy, VS have been kind and given us two seats by the door and crew seating. I was really surprised at the good quality of the food and drink and to be honest, it was served quicker and with less fuss than in Upper Class. Fed and watered, we watched a few films and slept. Ten hours later, the massive metropolis that is Los Angeles appeared out of the desert.

March 18
After some final shoving of clothes into the RiggPak, it's 5:30am and I'm ready for the off. The main pack has turned out to be quite light and the top roll bag is just right for passport, hotel docs and etickets. The doorbell rings and and a nice warm taxi awaits. I have a 90 mile journey to Heathrow so with the rain drumming down on the car roof, I'm back to sleep in short order.

A Decision Taken..

Earlier this year, with a friend, H, I decided to do a five-day triangle'ish tour of California from Los Angeles down to San Diego, across to Palm Springs through Joshua Tree, back to Oxnard and finally along Malibu Beach to return to LA. That route also took in a good chunk of the Mojave. H is also a new Harley owner. H was rather upset that having just bought his Fatbob he had to leave it behind. Not upset enough however, to pay £5000 and wait six weeks for it to sail/ship to the west coast of America...

February 12 2010
It's cold, raining and miserable in Suffolk. I know, let's go touring on a Harley!
For years I've wanted to do Route 66, or what's left of it but the time has never been there. Just browsing through the Harley UK forum, I noticed someone writing about shorter tours in California. I think I'll check it out.
February 13
Well, spent a considerable time googling last night and I think an organisation called Eaglerider may be able to assist. I've emailed them asking for their ideas on a 5 day self tour starting from Los Angeles on March 18.
February 15
Eaglerider have come back with a 5-day option which, including the bike, hotels and all insurances comes to $1700. I've chosen a Heritage Softail Classic and H has decided to go for the Full Monty, an Electra Glide. Both are quite different from our own bikes but should be an interesting change.
February 18
The route is more or less finalised. Fly into LAX arriving late afternoon. Pick-up from the hotel and then Los Angeles, San Diego, Palm Springs, Barstow (via Joshua Tree Park) Oxnard and then return to Los Angeles along Malibu Beach.
Now just have to decide what to wear, how to travel with it and what to pack it all in.
February 26
Flights arranged with Virgin - happily, I have a few Miles following extended business flying for the last few years so we're going out Economy but coming back Premium. This will be a bit of a shock to my system as Upper Class has been my cabin of choice since 2004 but "what the...", we're on holiday!
March 3
Having looked at all the available luggage for a Harley, I've chosen the CBT-900 from Nelson Rigg. It comes in two parts, a massive main bag with more pockets than any reasonable person could expect and a top pack which looks as though it will be both useful as cabin baggage and providing quick access to documentation and other bits and pieces. However, the main reason I've chosen it is that it is designed to fit the Heritage and the Road King.
March 16
With a temperature range of 16-28c expected and a chance of rain, the packing has been a little fraught. However, in the end, the list is:
Underwear/socks 6
T-Shirts 3
Polo Shirt 3
Draggin's 1
Chino's 1
HD Rainwear 1
Armoured Jacket 1
Shorts 2
Fleece 1
Boots 1
Deck Shoes 1
Wash Gear 1

As neither of us have an open-face helmet in the UK, we'll buy them in the States and bring them back.
Well, that's it, early start tomorrow.