Tribute to Mom, six days of desert riding; Day two Death Valley, ok or not

One thing I learned about riding the Valley of Fire is my ass was sore, very sore and to make this trip possible I needed something more.
I also found out that my boot of choice for this trip was wrong. I had chosen to wear my Track boots which would offer maximum protection similar to a ski boot but more flexible.
However I found that riding with my feet on my highway pegs (the pegs forward of normal riding pegs) would allow air to channel thru the various screws in the boot, not good. This was interesting as I had ridden often in 20 degree temps on a sportbike and had no problem oh well, nothing some plastic bags over my feet could not solve.

I would spend the evening after Valley Of Fire looking for a seat pad to put on my bike. I was hoping to find something such as those pressure point style made specifically for ATVs, but to no avail.

I would end up buying just a padded seat cover for a car. I cut the back off and it would fit perfectly over my bike seat with the elastic stretching nicely. In the morning I would venture out and see if my aching butt would find relief.

I am a morning person at all, and I got off to a late start after cramming to make some phone calls and do some other important stuff before I left, I would head out late morning by 10:30 AM.

The way out of Vegas was easy and my mind churned with the excitement of what Death Valley would offer, what awaited me?

The Excitement would quickly be tamed to dull boredom as the desert of nothing opened up before me, about my only reprive on this leg of the journey would be a sign to Mercury, which apparently is some sort of Military Instillation.


I would fill up at a junction which apparently is not worthy of a name, at least on the map I have. The Irony of this stop would be the sign before entering the town, a big red one which said "BROTHEL" my thought was merely "God bless Nevada!"

I headed south down to Ambrosa where I would stop at the Casino/hotel and talk to some fellow riders who assured me said hotel always had openings. Some passer bys stopped and mentioned the hotel was full, I would go in to verify and find that yes, it was booked up NOOO!

Its ok, I could ride through the park, I had time, I dont care if it was 2 pm now. I was slowly starting to realize that the park was far more vast than I had previously Imagined, and the last person who told me "going to see the sliding rocks alone is an all day affair" did not bode well with me.

I continued on to the park entrance to a line of people a mile long, oh no, would I even be able to find a camping space? IT was not looking good.


I wanted to spend an entire day in the park exploring, so I opted to turn around, find cell coverage and see if I could find a room open somewhere near the park.

I would pull off at a point I knew was not the best with only a few feet of shoulder that looked soft. Soon as I put my foot down the bank would give way and the bike would fall. Picking it up proved nearly impossible as the bank continued giving way under my feet. It seemed like twenty cars would drive by as I struggled, I could not believe they could be so apathetic, it had to look like a wreck yet nobody seemed to care. In desperation and one last lift I would get the bike back on two wheels, carefully balancing I would manuver the bike to place on the kickstand. Now the KLR is a wonderful bike, but the kickstand is way to long whne it is empty, when its full the bike squates and you have to find a lower point for the kickstand. I did not find one, my foot would slip and I would fall over again, more cars would drive by and after only two attempts I would have it righted again. Seconds later four other adventure motorbikes would come by, gesturing to make sure I was ok DAMN!


I moved up the road and began calling, I found a hotel in the town of Beaty, about an hour and a half away I would arrive in the dark. The town was eerie, something from a horror movie, with boarded up buildings seemingly everywhere I looked.
I found my Hotel, it looked nice on the outside and my non smoking room was suspect as I walked thru the smoke choked hallway to my room. The room was indeed smoke free until I turned on the fan, at which point it blew in the cigarette smoke scented air from the outside, I left it off and opted for comfy room temperatures.



Tomorrow, actually entering the park

Tribute to Mom, six days of desert riding, day one, valley of fire

I have had my heart set on riding down into Mexico and maybe beyond for quit a while now. Do to a few circumstances beyond my control I chose a smaller ride, and maybe to find if I could find out moms love for the desert.

I am not much for planning any trip, I pretty much just find a couple things I want to see and the rest is completely ad lib.

The Adventure would start from Montana where I would leave a bitter cold with dreams of warmth in my head.



I would use Vegas as my launching point being a good central location it seemed the obvious place to take off from.

Unfortunately like any adventure there has to be challenges merely getting ready. Just unloading my truck would prove a challenge, the plastic bed liner made for a non grip surface for rubber, as I began to walk the bike down I lost control as the front tire slid, rather than risk the bike falling on my trying to save it, I let it go.



Picking it up really was not as bad as I thought, we got it up in short order and the only damage would be slightly bent handlebars.

I would prepare to leave the following morning, everything was loaded, I made sure of that before I left, or so I thought.
I would wake in the morning having dreamed my Riding Pants were hanging in my closet, a quick trip to my truck would confirm this.
After desperately searching the net I concluded I would have to suck up local prices, so began to call close dealerships to see who carried Tourmaster Pants, the answer, nobody.
I would end up finding a pair of Joe Rocket Ballistic 7.0 pants, they fit perfect and the Knee armor unlike my pants at home would actually sit exactly where they were supposed to. A zip out liner would allow me more flexibility in regards to riding comfort in varying temps so the upgrade I have been wanting to do, would prove worth while.

Wanting to do a trial run to find out how everything was situated on my bike and how it handled, I would choose to head into
into the Valley of fire for no particular reason other than it sounded cool.

IT would prove to be a pretty amazing place and the colors absolutely exploded.





A 157 mile loop is what I planned to come out at lake mead, the hoover dam and back to Vegas. After exploring every single road darkness would begin to fall on me. At this point I would also discover that my new Tourmaster Transition jacket was not the warmest jacket on the planet. I would discover the problem, with the longer jacket it simply lacked any way to cinch at the waste, thus allowing air to funnel up to my mid section where the adjuster was. I would fix this problem with my pants belt and a small bungee, but not quit yet.

I would ride into Vegas thinking I was cold as hell, the mental game certainly came into mind and I believed the temp to be in the high 30s. Upon arriving back in Vegas I would learn that it was only in the low fifties, cold in the desert certainly was different than cold in Montana.

Next up, Death Valley!

Good riddance 2013 hello to a new year and beginning

2013 was a year of ups and downs, I guess as nearly all years are like that
Overall it was pretty shitty though. After small changes in my body do to many factors I believe associated to where I work, it certainly took its toll. 

I tried to end it on a high note, Im not one for drugs or false Euphoria so I did my best to make a complete life change, I think I have succeeded. I have undertaken another grand adenture and along with that I got the change I have wanted.

Normally I do not make resolutions but to make this change happen I have to.

1. I am no longer going to change my life to please others.
I have a nasty habit of continuousy putting my own life on hold for everyone else, not happening anymore, this will be a me year.

2. Eat healthy, all the bad things that happened to my body can I believe be aleviated simply by eating right. Normally I am pretty goo about it but I devulged in more comfort food than normal this past year, no more. Food is fuel and I would not put bad fuel into my bike, someting that can be replaced, so why my body?

3. Meditate, with this comes focus and your body is guided, each day at least five minutes off meditation shall be part of my day regardless.. 

4. Shun the western life as much as possible. We have it good, way to good and with that good living comes the longest overall time spent working in the history of man. That is Illogical, so rather than workin five days for two off, I am going too reverse that and make it two days with five off.

5. Replace the Ipad with something that actually works

Whatever happens I am already on my road to change and I am starting it off with all I need to survive strapped to the back of my motorbike, how cool is that.

So lets make this new year one for the records and kick that bad year in the ass

Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago !

Chorus:
For old long ago, my dear
For old long ago,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For old long ago.

We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For old long ago.

We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since old long ago.

And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill draught (of ale)
For old long ago!

And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For old long ago!

The survival arguments, but why?

One thing stands clear within the firearms community, there is no shortage of opinions ranging from gear, weapons and tactics.
For years I engaged in the nonsense of the caliber argument, failing to see the answer straight before my eyes simply as a hunter.
Looking at the most successful hunters I learned that merely using a good bullet which expands within any reasonable caliber and being compitant and accurate with said round, would garner you a full freezer. Fail in any of those accords and you will have an empty freezer.
People who used the largest magnum calibers tended to flinch and to be afraid of their weapon, not something you want as a hunter nor in a shit hits the fan scenario. Their theory being that the increased power would compensate for their poor accuracy, I am here to say that shooting an animal with a ill placed shot will result in you huffing around in the mountains wishing it had been better placed.
A weapon which fits you best and you are comfortable with makes all the difference in the world, while nobody wants to be shot, I would far rather the person shooting at me not be familiar and be as incompetent as possible.
The solution to all the above is practice, practice know your weapon which in  the end brings confidence, knowing you will make the shot and comfort, being relaxed in making that shot, both = success.
Next we move on to the tactical scenario , and there is by no means any  shortage of opinions on what is best, so what is the answer?
Well today I was talking to a friend, someone whom I used to train with, a wonderful man, and one of the best long range shooters I have ever encountered. 
I was talking how I would like to get back into long range game, and he asked "do you really think in a SHTF scenario you would use it?
I dono, what is that scenario? Where will you be? what will you have? The answer is we really do not know so being astute in all skills be it CQB to long range certainly is a must.
What I do know is distance = safety in regards to accuracy, and certainly if one is applying himself in a hide the added benefit of not being seen certainly would help.
The best overall solution? The same I apply to travel in risky areas, do not make yourself a target, learn negotiation, barter and be smart.
The reality is regardless of how well armed and trained you are a mob will run your ass down and take over that house you are securing. You certainly no matter how good you believe you are will have the ability to take on an overwhelming force of trained aggressors, all you can do is possibly take some with you. Screw that, I am playing to win, come on in boys, have some vodka and let me cook you some fish! Oh no sorry to see you choking on that black powder ;)
Maybe IM getting old but the Idea of being Rambo becomes less appealing with each year and with more wisdom gained traveling I also learn that it probably is not so needed anyhow.
At one time I believed guns and ammo were a good thing to keep, and lots of them. If shit hits the fan money becomes usless so food, water, weapons and ammo are good for trade.
Hold on here, lets think about this for a minute, why the hell would I want to trade weapons to someone who may possibly use them against me?
Screw that, I want food, water, booze and titty magazines for trade, maybe a little Mary Jane, an attacker to lazy or stoned out of their mind would be optimal.

I will with that said continue to practice, mainly within firearms and of course I will always practice some martial arts as well since for me as a traveler that is the most likely weapon I will ever use, the one between my ears and hopefully nothing more ever again.

How those dirty wanderers influenced my life.

I grew up reading novels about hero cowboys, men of adventure who challenged the world and marched to their own drum.
I rode a horse, herded cattle, carried a pistol, sometimes a rifle and loved to camp in the wilderness lands where the spirits of old whisper upon the wind.
I believe in the old adage "ride hard shoot straight and speak the truth, and damn it, I have shoved my fist in more than one nose of those evil villains bringing a scourge upon someone innocent.
I guess I never really realized it but as I write this, I now realize that those readings influenced my desire to travel and my ability to push the fear of the unknown aside.
Maybe it helped me to want to be that new person, to see new things, and to trade with those indigenous people and share their customs.
As I write this I realize the lasting impact upon my life, Craving a strong history I believe that one of my favorite Authors Mr Louis L'Amore  more gave me some of that history by way of fiction.
His writings always brought forth someone willing to venture into the unkown, willing to see all things new. His book on medieval Europe peaked my interest and made me read about all those areas which Mathurin would travel, being a poet, a warrior and a physician what more could we model ourselves after?
For the past month I have been busy readying my steel horse, I have changed the filter, put on the Aluminum Saddlebags known to the motorcycle world as Paniers.
My steeds shoes are rubber and hopefully I will not throw any on the way, if I do, I carry spare in those water proof bags you missed out on.
My gear is not leather, nor wool, but rather textile which is waterproof and abrasian resistant, let us pray I never have to find out how well the later is.
My tent is loaded, my camping equipment washed, matches ready at hand to light that fire that will carry the hot ashes to the heavens.
A campus I will not carry, rather a GPS with all the maps of the US under my fingertips and all my trails shall be plotted, even into the abyss of the unknown.
Soon as with my Idols of my childhood I will sit under the open stars again, my head not resting against a saddle, like so many times of my youth, but rather against a nice modern inflated pillow.
Could be I am cheating a bit, but hell, the western saddle was technology in its time.

Travel music is also something which shall soon be my companion, an Ipod loaded with tunes to make my mind wander with the humming of my tires on the road adding to the strum of the guitar in my ear phones.
I really wanted to learn the Harmonica, but as it turns out I am incapable of learning a blow instrument, my cat had been horrified, now with him leaving this world only his spirit arches its back as I try to play.
I should have learned to play the guitar, I mean after all what could be more romantic than strumming a tune while gazing at those stars, what more could bring those savages to my favor?
The String Bass I played in highschool is to big to pack, and hell to be honest it has been so long my Rockabilly days are probably gone anyhow.

I hope that poor singing and a hearty appetite willing to eat nearly anything, my big smile and resemblence to Shrek will have to suffice & will win over their hearts, so please put down those torches and pitchforks!

So thank you Mr L'Amore, I loved your stories and have many of them, though they are all the same in some regards, they have molded me into the adventurous person I am today.

Celebrating a Terrorist, what gives?

People have asked me several times over the past few days what was so bad about Mandela? I guess they missed my link on him so here goes

We all know he went to prison, but most do not know why.
It seems in their mind he was a freedom fighter and went against the big bad regime. That would be true, but he sure had a roundabout way of getting there.
First off he orchestrated the Church Street Bombing, an event where he wanted to maximize civilian casualties, 19 Civilians would die.

He would become a leader in the African National Congress, A heroric patriotic group you hear. I guess if you think operating death camps in Angola is a good thing. Thats right, they terrorized villages, tortured and murdered people to "make them" go along with them. They along with Mandelas wife also had another way of coercing people, it was called necklacing, where they would put a tire around someones neck, fill it with gasoline and light it on fire.
Those people were anyone who were even suspected of talking to the government. Desmond TuTU would become famous for selflessly tossing himself on a victim and stopping the lynch mob.

Mandela would go on to Burn Farmers fields, encourage African Youth to Burn Farmers fields before he went off to the clink.

He wrote a book, where he showed no remorse for his past actions. He also never would separate himself from the African Congress which continued their terrorist ways while he was in prison and afterwards.

His refusal to distance himself from Militants has led to the slaughter of some 60k whites in south Africa, many of whom were farmers who have their throats slit.
Did he change after prison? Nah, a changed person is at least apologetic, he never was anything but arrogant, and i find it sad that the Western Media put a Terrorist on a Pedalstool.

We have a war on terrorism, I see the ra ra bullshit posts on here every day from the left, and the right.
I find it repugnant then that you would send your Brothers, Sons, fathers off to fight terrorists, who really are only people being victim to living in a certain land, and then put a single one on a pedalstool.

No freedom fighter bombs innocent people intentionally, that is what terrorists do, strike terror in the hearts of civilization.

You might not have wanted to hear this, but it needed to be said.

Why I choose an Adventure over a Vacation.

People often ask me why I travel as I do, why do I spend my time in a country traveling from area to area and needing a vacation when I come home, and the answer is very simple.
When you plan a vacation, you know what you will see before hand and everything else is planned out, when you plan an adventure, you are going into the unknown with no real time frame, only the beginning, and an end.
I grew up as a traveler, my father during my childhood was an over the road bus driver so I spent much of my youth riding with him.
I liked it as I am a chatty inquisitive person so I always got to meet someone new and interesting as on the bus there is only time for three things, talk, reading and sleep.
My parents also were into adventure. On my fathers days off we would saddle up the horses, load up the fishing poles and head into the wilderness.
I grew up thinking my head on a saddle was supposed to be a pillow when camping.
I thought a tarp was better than a tent as I had better things to do than sit in camp, there were caves to explore and fish to be caught. I honestly thought that bathing in a cold creek for a few seconds was a true bath in the wild. I drank out of every stream I came across and it was not until high school would giardia find my father and me on a much milder level. Cooking over the open fire and picking ash out of ones food is the best. I loved to forage when I was younger, and often would grab me some elk thistle and a grouse or two that happened in front of me.
Along with our trips came the usual mishaps of riding horses in the wild. They would of course become spooked or simply have a bad irritable day. I remember vividly Satan losing her cookies and being used as a pack mare at that time, tossing everything we had all over the trail.
We would spend the next few hours wandering around in the brush trying to locate our basics, my aunt would complain as we never found her toothbrush.
I liked this, it was fun, and I saw the wilderness in a way most never will, in a way that early explorers and settles often saw it. As such I never really bought into the boogyman nonsense, mind you my mind like everyone elses wanders, but it is much easier for me to control those thoughts.
I know there are dangers, but those are part of life in general, tens of thousands of people die in a car accident every year, yet nobody thinks twice about jumping in a car. There have only been a handful of documented Grizzly Bear attacks resulting in death, yet people panic at the very thought of one.
When a journey becomes an adventure your life is expanded upon, you will probably meet some person whom you never knew existed, a person who is helping you fix that broken strap on your back pack, or pull your motorcycle from a ditch.
When you are in an adventure you find things and places you never would see as a tourist, but unfortunately you miss a few things that other tourists may see, that is ok to me, as I believe I get a far better understanding of what a culture truly is about, and that rarely is what a tourist sees in a tourist area.
I often recount this, as it has had a major impact on my life, and that is when in 2007 I was backpacking about the Philippines province of Luzon and would stay in a small town where I was the first white person since WW2. I wrote a story about it which you can find among my blog, but the most amazing aspect of that story is the beginning of it all. When I would arrive at the house to which I would stay at 4:30 AM and breakfast would be waiting for me. After a morning of hiking I would return for lunch and there would be no food as they had cooked the last of it just for our breakfast.
I ask you, where can you find such genuine generosity when staying at a Sands?
Since my last trip to the Philippines much has changed, some of the things that I saw were destroyed in the earthquake and now the typhoon. How fortunate was I do have seen those things while they still stood.
I guess I will continue to travel on in my own way, I do not mind flying somewhere, but when I do, My feet will hit the ground running.
My next adventure is by Motorcycle and shall take me over some 4000 miles in three weeks, I am beyond excited. My ignorance of the area shall be lifted and hopefully I will meet more wonderful people to share stories with, and whos life I will change, and who will again change mine.
One thing more I shall gain, is more knowledge, and ultimately, more fulfillment as a person.
I leave you with one of the most Amazing quotes ever written.

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”