At last some photo's

I finally found a place that allows me to upload some of my pictures.

Obv me to start !


Chicago

My friendly barmaid Nya at Dicks Last Resort

I pick up the bike

My first beer in Springfield

Lincolns New Salem

To Amarillo

Starting mileage 958
Ending mileage 1123

From here on I am expecting the trip to become a lot more interesting. This is the start of the July 4th weekend and I have the Texas Ranch Steak Hotel, Santa Fe with a days rest, Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon, Laughlin the mini Vegas and the beaches of San Diego. All a lot more scenic and less historic.

I filled up before I left Clinton and as I was finishing a squeeky voiced woman across the pumps asked where I was headed. I told her Amarillo and her face lit up as she asked me if I was a Christian. I regretably said no and she seemed dissappointed as the largest cross in the state rested in a town called Groom just outside of my destination. I told her I was a photographer and promised to stop there.

I hit the 1000 mile mark just short of Texas. As soon as I had crossed the state line the scenery took on an instant change. No longer the rolling hills and farmlands I had been used to. I was now riding through sun dried grasslands with nothing on the horizon either way. The drought I had heard of was very evident.

I followed the I40 all the way to Amarillo, 180 miles in just under 3 hours stopping for gas just once. This stop did let me cross paths with a deeply religious man. He pulled up in an old Volvo and stepped out wearing a tshirt that announced Jesus is God across the front and a verse from the bible I guess on the back. After telling me his life story whilst filling up he asked me whether I could donate $5 towards his petrol bill in the name of god. Normally I detest beggars but I guess I was feeling charitable and it makes for a little story.

Religion is so deep set in parts of the US, its such an eye opener. Along with the hundreds of McDonalds dotted along every town and freeway exit there are numurous billboards telling you to come off at the next exit and join in prayers ! I dont have a problem with it but it is rammed down your throat a lot. The hotel tv's are full of evangelist channels and readings. Blergh, just not my scene.

I finally turned off the Interstate and rode into Amarillo. The big Texan Ranch was very easy to find. I had seen billboards with directions before I had even crossed into Texas. Everything is big here, They have a huge cow outside, a huge cowboy boot by the entrance, a lot of huge cars parked up and or course a lot of huge people. The main advertising for this place is the challenge of a 72 oz (2kg) steak. You have an hour to eat it and if you succeed you will have your name forever immortalised in their book and on their website. Oh you will also get your steak for free. I say free but im sure there will be hospital bills and laxative costs. I heard one story of a guy that tried it that couldnt go to the toilet for 8 days !!!!

I settled down at the bar for the evening and ordered a 12oz steak. Ha 12oz looks so small to what everyone else was ordering but I have a figure I need to look after and this was more than enough. With the 2 free sides aswell as a pint of their finest ale I was full in a very short time.

I got speaking to a lot of people that night. One person of note was a guy with the weirdest twitch. He was eating at the bar and his right elbow kept coming up to ear height, like he was doing a chicken wing impression. You can imagine the difficulty he was having as this was his knife arm not his fork arm. He tried to cut his steak and up popped us arm as if it had a mind of its own. I tried my best to contain my laughter and had to keep looking the other way.

I met Mr Grumpy 61 year old truck driver. He swore as he was trying get served a beer. Those f*ckers got served quicker than me grumble grumble. The head barmaid instantly told him off and said any more swearing he was out. I didnt realise swearing was a problem here so I made a concious effort to not relax my tongue to much. He was mr miserable. He came home once a year and spent the rest of the time driving his truck around all the states of the US. His truck had a shower, a bed and everything he needed in his life. I cant imagine how a person can be happy being that solitary, then again look at the end result. I was relieved when some guys I had met earlier cam back and I can turn my back on grumps. I ahd a great night boozing it up with Mark and his wife Jane. I hope you guys read this as I want to say thank you for a very fun night. Buttery nipples are great shots, thankyou.

This trip is not all about the places I see but moreso about the people I meet. Genuinely nice people are making my trip a lot of fun. Texas is the 'friendly state' and my night at the Texas Ranch proved this so.

To Clinton

I awoke with a horrible whiskey fueled hangover and gradually made my way out of bed. It was just under 200 miles to Clinton. No-one I had spoken to the night before had heard of Clinton. I had asked if anyone had a better suggestion of a place between here and Amarillo but I got a repeated answer that after Oklahoma city there is nothing of interest until Texas. There was a suggestion to go to Dallas but looking at the map would have taken me to off route.

I set off accepting that tonight would be my pit stop night ahead of the July 4th weekend. I almost never arrived at Clinton.

For all of the adrenalin activities I have done and of all the stupid situations I have put myself in none have affected me more than being almost hit on a freeway in Oklahoma.

Now the bike is loud, I have to wear ear plugs otherwise I become partially deaf in the evening due also to the wind. With these in and the rumble of the engine and the beating of the wind I still easily heard the terrifying screech of tyres behind me. I say behind, it sounded almost on top of me. I instantly looked in the mirror and it was full of a red 4x4.

I can only say that at that close in the mirror I don't understand how he had not made contact. Accidents happen, near misses happen but this was me, on a motorbike a long way from home, with just a t-shirt and jeans and with other traffic around me that would not have had room to avoid me if I had fallen.

All I could do is shake my head. The driver if the 4x4 had slowed down so much he or she just faded into the distance.

I wasnt angry. I was just thankful to be alive. My whole life was in the reactions of his or her foot connecting with the brake pedal.

Shaken, I continued on my way to Clinton. The heat of this journey was becoming intense. It was over 100 degrees again today and every time I swept around a bend in the road I felt like a rotisery chicken.

I finally rode into Clinton and found a mid range motel. There was an outdoor pool which brought me down to a reasonable temperature. A quiet night in with some food from a local deli.

The weather channel showed storms behind me in Chicago and record heat in Oklahoma and Texas. I wonder how long my luck will last.

To Tulsa

Starting mileage 430
Finishing mileage 760.

After a restless sleep I started my journey to Tulsa, Oklahoma. This would be a 330 mile trip stopping at Joplin along the way. Leaving early also helps with the sun. It has started turning real hot and with the sun behind me in the morning it is less harsh.

I hopped on and off I44 passing through desolate towns that were once bustling tourist attractions. Since the introduction of the interstate freeways the towns have lost a lot of passing commerce. After around 4 hours riding i found the Joplin turnoff.

Joplin is a small iconic route 66 town that was hit by the deadliest twister in over 50 years only a few months back. I had seen pictures on the web but nothing prepared me for the devastation I saw. A lady at a local diner pointed me to the main area that was hit. As I rode down the main street my jaw literally dropped. There were entire streets flattened. Down to just their bases. Nothing more than a foot high wall was all that was left of most houses. Debris lined the sides of the road, collected into piles to help the clear up process. I started taking pictures from a distance. These plots of destroyed land were still owned by people so I stayed on the road. The only people I saw were builders and guys removing rubble. Some houses further in still had a few walls standing. You could still see clothes in ripped open cupboards, exposed to any passer by. This must have been terrifying for residents. I heard a hospital also got hit but I didn't get to see it.

Back on I44 to Tulsa. It took me a total of 6 hours riding to get to Tulsa from Cuba. The heat was unbearable with my leather jacket so I managed to squeeze it in the luggage bags attached to the bike. Jeans and t-shirt were now the look.

I also managed to get the 'passing a Harley' wave perfected. Whereas day one I would give a wave I now know you have to point your first 2 fingers out and to the left at an angle to the floor. Very smooth.... I'm one of the gang..

I rode into downtown Tulsa and checked into a Holiday Inn. Hardly iconic 66 but i really wanted a good bed as the ride had exhausted me.

I was in two minds about heading out for the evening or staying in with MTV and CNN. Then I remembered it was the last Thursday of the week and worth trying to celebrate.

Like everywhere i've been so far outside of Chicago the streets seemed desolate. I asked a policeman if there were any local bars that were worth me going. He said go to Arnie's and he and his colleague escorted me there genuinelly interested in my travel stories.

Arnie's bar was an Irish bar with a lot of characters. I instantly got talking to some people at the bar and settled in. There was a live band playing some great Irish folk songs. Well I say live, the band members looked over 100 years old.

I had a great night in there an it seemed my accent instantly made me friends with anyone there. This was stark contrast to my previous night in Cuba. I had started to question my acceptance as a Brit in the US and I thank the people I met in Tulsa for restoring my faith. Everyone person I met in Tulsa for the whole time I was there were friendly and fun.

Cuba sucks Tulsa rocks.

To Cuba

Starting mileage 220
End mileage 430

Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln... Illinois prize posession. I woke reasonably early to visit New Salem, a place where Lincoln lived and work in his younger years. Im not one for history, i scored 12% in my school exam but the place was fascinating. Suspended in time, the original buildings still stood and were perfectly preserved. There were characters around the town dressed and acting as though they were still there. I had joined up with a group of German media guys and was shown a tour of the town.

It does seem though that every part of Illinois has some sort of link with Lincoln and they try to squeeze as much out of it as possible. This, in turn, explains the formalness you see in the towns through Illinois.

I jumped back on the bike to Springfield to collect my bag from the hotel and made my way to Cozy Dog drive in. A route 66 classic. They supposedly were the first to invent a battered hotdog on a stick. They didnt invent the hot dog or the stick but they invented the combination. Clever. ! ?

I heard my first English accents as an older group from t'up north came in. Very friendly as you would expect and we had a quick chat. Outside I asked a guy with a decent looking camera if he would take a picture of me on my bike with my camera. Not only did he do this but he gave me two books on route 66 Oklohoma and Tulsa things to see. Apparantly quite a popular writer and photographer it seems.

Onto Cuba, slightly behind schedule, i swept passed St Louis on I55. A very impressive city with a 630 foot gateway arch shining silver as you approach.

Nearing Cuba I stopped at a tourist hotspot of Mermac Caverns. Stunning caverns that stretch for 15+ miles. Artificially lit and completely still pools that reflect the cavernous ceilings creating an optical illusion of a deep chasm below. Pretty cool but im sure you have to be there to feel the same excitement :)

Riding into Cuba again i notice how quite everywhere is and no real signs of shops or bars. I find the Wagon Wheel hotel and ask where I can eat or drink tonight. The owner was not sure! She saw the Harley outside and suggested the Loose Ends bar, "a biker bar". I dumped my gear showered and went to take a look. It was 7:30 ish and from the outside it looked closed. Well not just closed it just looked like a small warehouse with a black window next to the door that you couldnt see through and some Harleys parked outside. Deep breath, open door, step in. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness i quickly realised that there were 2 groups of oversized bikers staring at me. Ha just a little uncomfortable i made my way to the bar and ordered a beer. She wouldnt just get me a beer she had to recite a whole god damn beer directory which just highlighted me more as an out of towner. Dust settled i ordered some food and blended into the background. A shaven headed guy walks in and gets the same hostile look. He sits at the bar and within minutes he starts talking to one of the bikers girlfriends. He is clearly also not from missouri and somehow gets away with it. I overhear he is from LA. I ask the barmaid where else is busy and she suggests I try the Rose about a mile away. They have Karaoke! wild! I leave LA to his fate and walk to the other bar. Its about 9:30 and the other bar is even less busy. In fact just 6 people there all seated at one corner of the bar. I get the same hostile look so i sit at the other end of the bar and order a whiskey. I get chatting to the barmaid and let her see im not any trouble. It became clear that everyone was related or in a relationship.

In walks LA. Doesnt acknowledge me from the other bar and sits right next to the locals and starts up a conversation about how good he is at everything. Within 20 mins i look and one of the guys is squaring up to him. The local then grabs a glass ans smashes him over the head. This is 2 seats from me so I step out of the way. After about a minute of punches and kicks the owner Rose comes screaming out of the back. Asks LA to get the hell out and rewards the local with a beer.

I get talking to Rose and she tells me its normally the Loose End bar that gets rowdy! She gives me a Rose bar tshirt (i think she didnt want bad word to travel) and i left.

Walkimg the half mile home i felt very unsafe. Not many streetlights and the few cars that went past slowed as the went by. One even beeped and a guy laughed out the window as he went by. I was very glad to get back to my room. I felt very alone and very exposed.

Chicago to Springfield

I arrived at the Harley Davidson dealership, bag in hand and feeling a little nervous. The guys there were what you would imagine a HD person to look like. Big dudes covered in tattoos, mean looking mo fo's hands covered in all sort of rings that looked like knuckle dusters. This image changed instantly he opened his mouth as a high pitched squeakiness said "Hello Sir, how may we help" I kept the chuckle inside.

After the paperwork was finished and I bought myself some cool shades and grabbed one of their hire helmets. I was taken to the bike and shown around the working of checking oil etc and the security features, disc brakes etc. All finished the guy left me in the parking lot with just my steed.

I think this will be the biggest pause of this trip. This is where it started. This is where I will be out of my comfort zone from here on. I couldn't go.. I just sat on the bike waiting for my hands to start the engine. I don't get nervous, I usually love these challenges but I stayed there frozen for a good 5 minutes. Then i got off to go get a drink.

After a talking to myself I got back on, fired it up and headed straight to the exit where dual lanes flowed the wrong way. In the deep end we go, wrist twist and I was on the road.

Heading out of Chicago was relatively easy but I was very aware that one wrong junction or exit would put me in completely the wrong direction. Left up to I55 junction then right towards St Louis. I55 South I was looking for. This was very simple and once out of the city it became a doddle.

After 30 miles or so i saw signs for old route 66. I followed this onto I53. This took me 60-70 miles through great little towns named Joliet, Pontiac and Bloomington. I didn't stop at these places as there didn't seem much to do and i was also conscious I was running behind schedule after starting late that morning. I noticed all other Harley riders were wearing no helmet so I pulled over and put mine in the side panniers. As soon as I had pulled over a Harley rider appeared and asked if I needed any help. I thanked him and said I was ok. This would become a theme along today for every other HD rider I would see would raise a hand to me, handle bar height, no matter how far away they were. On the other side of freeways, in gas stations as I rode past. I was now a member of the HD gang for sure.

I53 was mainly dual carriageway with huge fields and farmlands dotted either side. The few 'housing estates' I saw were perfect grids with big houses, perfect straight roads and incredibly clean. I can only describe these places as looking so false and as if they were built as nuclear testing towns that I have seen in films.

I also started to see religion creeping in on signs, buildings and bumper stickers. I noticed one Catholic driver showing a large sticker that only half the people that enter abortion clinics come out alive.. I didn't expect to see too much of this stuff until further into my trip but I guess its a huge part of American culture wherever you go and more so in these noweheresville towns.

I pressed on to get to Springfield as I had no accommodation booked. With my helmet off and riding the freeway I have never had such a feeling of freedom. Even the buzzing of the Blackberry was not felt over the rumble of the engine.

It was clear blue sky all the way and the sun was now overhead chasing me and I could see my reflection on the chrome handlebars. I had my forehead in the sun but the wind was keeping me cool <<< Spot the English mistake here.

I stopped at Dixie66 in Mclean, a famous Route 66 trucker stop for some lunch around 2:30. A big chicken sandwich, chips and almost a litre of coke. I thought places like this would be full of bikers but I was the only one on two wheels there. I was 45 miles from Springfield and making good progress.

Back on the bike I pulled out past a McDonalds. It then struck me that I had seen a McDonalds in every town, every exit, everywhere there was a mention of food. Mcdonalds is a beast of a company and they are everywhere, sometimes just a block apart.

I came off I55 into Springfield and as soon as I slowed down to look for hotels I felt the burning of my forehead. I couldn't find any hotels/b&b's so i pulled into the shade and asked a local. He pointed me to the State House Inn where I got a room for $100 and made my way quickly to get some after sun and suncream.

On way back to the hotel I stopped in a small bar called the Brickhouse and ordered a beer that turned out to be Texan (something Brock). I got talking to a few guys there. One guy was filming at New Salem, just 20 miles out of town. He was a part in the new Spielberg movie about Lincoln. I will be heading there the next day so hopefully see some stuff going on. I also got chatting to a guy from the Army who hated Springfield due to its lack of anything to do in the evening. He educated me that Springfield is the capital of Illinois just because it is Abraham Lincolns town an roots. He was from Chicago and couldn't wait to go back every weekend. He also told me a lot about the current Iraq/Afghanistan wars and what the media didn't report. Interesting and morbid stuff.

Nachos and 6 pints later I went back to the hotel. 110,000 people live in Springfield and you would be surprised there were that many, streets were empty and it was only 9:30. It has a very federal feel all very formal. Courthouses, Bureau's, legal buildings. Great for history but not a good place to party. Bed by 10pm and I woke once to the sound of the train horn rumbling through town.

Tomorrow night I will be in Cuba. I have some things to see along the way and will definitely by wearing my helmet and suncream on route.

(I cant upload any photos yet due to hotel pc restrictions)

Chicago

I landed in Chicago about 10:30am. There is a 6 hour time difference and I had been up since 3:30am UK time. With the token overweight American woman next to me on the plane with arms like kebab shop meat I didnt sleep a wink whilst in the air.
The cabbie to the hotel hardly spoke English so I was pleased to meet a pretty looking receptionist at the hotel who I could have a chat with. She told me my room wouldnt be available until 3pm. I sorta expected this but had planned to use the superpower ability us English have here, a little English charm. She had weak resistance and got me my room straight away. :)

Showered and changed I grabbed a map and headed out to take a look around. Chicago is a very tall city. I could see numurous buildings towering above a low cloud that had seemed to engulf most of the skyline.

I walked for miles, no joke. Navy Pier, Grant Park, Sears tower all good to see but doesnt make for interesting writing. Around 2pm i needed some food so I grabbed a table at Dicks Last Resort, a rock n roll themed bar overlooking the river. Here i met my first character of the trip. Nya.

The waitress swaggers up and says "Here, catch." with that she throws the napkin bundle of knife and fork at me and sits on the table to introduce herself.

"Hi i'm Nya and ill be your waitress if I can be bothered. Have you been to Dick's before? No? Ok. Dicks is a concept bar. We are Dicks and we like to play. If you like to play with Dicks then you should stay. Beer?"

It caught me off guard at first and i was like a deer in headlights with my response. "errr yeah". On her return I started to play along and gave some backchat, we were then friends. A few beers later and my first of many burgers I decided to grab the bill and head back. She was intrigued with my trip and wanted her picture taken for my records. As i was leaving a family came in and she started the same script. This time i heard her address the parents as big momma and big daddy. She asked for ID of the daughter and tossed it back towards her. It caught a breeze and almost flew over the balcony. The daughter called her a bitch and they both laughed. Great place but a little strange in its approach.

I walked through the shopping streets of Chicago. Big trucks, yellow taxis, sirens and smokey manhole covers. Traffic police directing traffic and shouting at drivers, helicopters overhead and a ton of steakhouses on route.

It was around 4pm that i got back to the hotel room and had a lay down with the intention of a few hours kip. I woke up at 4am!!!

Oops. There goes my night out in Chicago. 12 hours sleep! Im sorta glad as i feel fully refreshed for the start of my Harley trip and i could have been easily swayed to find a bar and have a few beers, waking with a fuzzy head.

10am pick up for the bike. I will be heading to Springfield on I53 and I55 which is about 200 miles and I have no accomodation booked. Leaving the protection of a big city is a little daunting. This is jumping in the deep end for sure.