After leaving Elsinore I went north through Corona, Chino and Ontario, what they refer to in magazines like Motocross Action etc as "the 909"". 909 being the telephone area code here. It's also where all the motorcycle manufacturers have their head offices and warehouses, in fact Honda's is right next to the freeway. It's friggin' HUGE. You could fit 3 or 4 rugby fields inside it. I wanted to take a photo but traffic in that area is insane and I was more concerned with survival.
Two weeks before, I had stopped at a motocross track called Cahuilla Creek in the mountains outside Palm Springs:
Now I rode right past Glen Helen, and considered pulling in to see what was going on. Probably nothing, at 1130 on a Monday morning, plus I was anxious to get off the freeway so kept going. Right at that point is where the road starts climbing up the Cajon Pass into the high desert. Within 5 k's of the top I was off I-15 and on the old Highway 395 that goes all the way north to Canada somewhere, via Owens valley which is a geological wonderland, Mammoth Mountain ski area, lake Tahoe, Reno and I forget the rest. It's on the map.
I knew this road well too, and was amazed and dismayed to see the amount of urban development along it now. I hadn't been on it in probably 15 years. The typical american suburban sprawl that looks the same everywhere had spread here as well, and some areas that I remember being cris-crossed with dirt bike trails are now generic stucco-housed neighbourhoods. The United States of Generica, I call this place. No matter where you go in the country, it's the same: the same strip malls, the same chain stores - Burger King, McPukes, Best Buy, Home Depot, 7-11, Ace hardware, Starbucks.......
It turns people into programmed drones.
After a while the open desert reappeared, and forty-five minutes later I was in a familiar place:
I continued on to:
The little living ghost town of Randsburg hasn't changed much in a hundred years except for electricity. It's still a harsh environment, typical desert: hot as hell in summer and freezing cold in winter. It must have been a miserable life breaking rocks in the old days. These are small mines, compared to those in SA. Chicken scratches, in fact. But most of the shafts you still see (with fences and warning signs around them now) were dug by hand. It was a fairly rich mining area but again nothing compared to the Reef.
Main street, Randsburg. The real Randburg probably looke like this 110 years ago, I imagine:
You find some strange, heat-affected people in these deserts, and some of them live in strange places:
While having lunch I talked to an oke named Vic who was towing an enclosed bike trailer. He had a KLR 650 and an MX bike in it, and was cruising around camping out and going on day rides. I was envious, thats the best way to do it - you have enough space to carry everything you need and can ride anywhere with minimal 'baggage. I saw many trails and roads I desperatlely wanted to go explore but would have been ugly on a loaded 950.
Vic took the obligatory "Look where I've been , wanker that I am" shot for me. He was doing my intended route in reverse and gave me much valuable information on road conditions and weather ahead.
Another 50 k's north I entered Owens valley, a fascinating place full of natural and human history. It runs north-south at the eastern base of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 states (except Alaska and Hawaii) is halfway up the valley.
The southwestern US consists of what's called "Karst und Graben"geological features. It's a repetitive series of valleys and mountains running north-south, Owens Valley is the westernmost one. Death Valley is two valleys to the east. Owens Lake is an ancient lake that is now silted in but used to be much bigger and wetter. At the north end you can clearly see the ancient shorelines of thousands of years ago.
I helped on an archaeological dig in this area once and it's amazing to find complete stone tools and bowls made by Indians several thousand years ago.
The road went through the buzzing metropolis of Pearsonville:
People do strange things to entertain themselves in places like this :laughing4:
".......that's a HUUUUGE bitch..........."
Did you know that America had concentration camps during WW2? "Land of Freedom" carries about as much credibility as "Arbeit Macht Frei" over the gate of Auschwich concentration camp in Germany.
After Pearl Harbour all people of Japanese descent, most of whom were american citizens, were gathered together and put in a concentration camp in Owens valley called Manzanar. Today, only political correctness keeps them from doing the same to Muslims. So instead the government and all its gun-carrying tools abuse EVERYBODY in the name of "security".
The graveyard at Manzanar:
It's a bleak place.
At the north end of Owens valley is the town of Bishop, a nice little place with all kinds of outdoor entertainment and amenities. I found a campground next to a golf course, killed two tinnies of Fosters and slept well. I was already finding out that a stock KTM 950 seat was not designed for riding but, apparently, for extracting murder confessions or just making a grown man cry like a little bitch.
Close to the campground is this famous street:
atch: Anyho if you do and you need place to crash drop me a pm I am just 40 minutes outside of London (filtering fast through traffic that is) :biggrin:
