Gremlin's Tall Stories

The tour proper gets underway today, heading north from Los Angeles to a little town called Morro Bay.

The debacle last night didn’t assist in getting an early night’s sleep, getting to bed around midnight, after re-packing things where they were supposed to be. Nevertheless, the alarm rang at 7am, and Murray was already up and showering.

Had a quick breakfast, again of cereal, milk and yoghurt. If anything, their supply had grown since the previous day, so definitely no success there. Packed everything onto the bike and checked out, handing in my card. Most people were by the bikes already. They had filled up the previous day, so didn’t need gas. I was almost empty, so quickly went to fill up… the station right across the road was out of order…

Ken had said they would probably leave before I got back, which was fine, as I knew the way. Up the road to find another station, to have my first crack at filling. Prepay is standard here as well, most annoying. Ken suggests credit card, but I want to fill with cash. As Ken says, there could be a line, and then you have to queue twice. No matter this time, no-one else inside. I ask the guy if I can leave a $100 bill, and fill. No problem he says.

The pumps have a collar that have to be compressed, along with the backfill detector, which is a bit of a pain on motorbike tanks with the fuel cap. I pull it up with my fingers and continue filling, as we did yesterday for the other bikes. Back inside, retrieve the hundred, pay for the gas. Filled with premium, which is the highest of 3, unleaded, plus and premium. Prices seem to vary from station to station, even in the same street, by as much as 20c per gallon. Premium I paid for was $4.09 per gallon, don’t have a converter handy. Made it about $35. There can also be 3 different ways of calculating the octane, either RON (what NZ has), MON or AKI (average of RON and MON).

Confused yet? Hence why I just filled with the highest… it’s just safer, and should be around 98 RON.

Back to the Hotel I was just in time to see everyone leaving, only Dave (who’s been in the USA several times already) remained, waiting for me. I assured him I was fine, just needed to gear up, so he headed off. Jacket and armour on, off on the great American road trip….

Had to pass by LAX again, and since it was a weekday… rush hour. Did 30km in an hour… LA is no different to Auckland. Eventually (began to feel like an eternity in 28 degrees) I got onto the Pacific Coast Highway, and pretty damn gorgeous it was, with the water on the left side, winding your way north. The only problem was that it was a 2-3 lane highway in both directions, and quite busy. Took the edge off the view a bit, not to mention using most of your concentration on the road and traffic.

Once the traffic thinned out I saw the group stopped on the side, almost too late, but hauled the BMW up and parked. Only problem was that I was now mid-pack, with no explanation for the missing bikes (and I hadn’t seen anyone stopped). We waited for a while, and they came in, having taken a few wrong turns. We set out again, as a pack this time.

… It lasted for 20 metres. The second last bike just made it through the lights, and I was the last, so I chose to stop instead of running the red (I loathe red light runners). I knew where the lunch stop was, so it wasn’t a major, and I had all the directions. I was still sure I was going to catch up shortly. I headed into Los Pedros National Park (or something like that), north of Santa Barbara and finally had some single lane tarmac that had a few proper corners.

Interstates have a speed limit of 65mph for normal vehicles (55mph for vehicles with trailers and trucks) and elsewhere in the middle of nowhere it’s 55mph, which is more like 90kph. This is a little frustrating, and I regularly found myself slipping back to 110kph. The temperature was hovering between 28 and 30 degrees.

I pulled into the small town of Solvang, with danish origins, with no group of rowdy kiwis to be seen. Went through the town, still nothing. Turned around, stopped in the middle of town and consulted the book Ken provided to all of us, outlining each day, route, accommodation etc. He mentioned a car park at the entry to town, so I went that way, and believed I had found it, but no bikes. Parked in a visible place, had a toilet break, and was just about to head off to explore a little, when I heard the rumble of 8 Harleys.

How they were behind, none of us have a clue, but we were there for an hour, for lunch and a look around. Solvang was created by the Danish in the early 1900’s, by buying thouands of acres of land and building themselves a village, in the danish architecture. Dropped into the bakery next to the car park… no pies in this country, just pastries (but served by a very cute friendly blonde). I couldn’t help but have an apricot pastry thing and a chocolate brownie. Delicious.

This doesn’t constitute a meal, especially when you’re riding. I continued hunting, having a very quick browse through the Hans Christian Andersen Museum, and heard a bell tolling. Finding the clocktower, I took a nice pic of that (hope it turns out OK). One of the guys was also taking pictures of it, and said he had seen a sandwich shop down the road. Found it, and enjoyed a very nice chicken salad sandwich… took a picture before I devoured it.

An hour was almost up, so I headed back, keeping myself out of a chocolate shop, but consoled myself with a picture instead. Would have been dangerous territory. No-one was at the bikes, so I settled down, leaning back on the bike and closing my eyes a little (not nearly comfortable enough for sleep anyway). Once the guys were back, we headed off, two grabbing gas first (making a hell of a racket… those Harleys sure have some road presence).

I was at the back, but this time we were an actual pack, and we continued north, up a freeway much akin to SH1, 2 lanes each way, aiming for the next stop the Madonna Inn.

Every single room is different, and change from time to time. Describing it is hard, but check out the pics for the colour schemes. Tacky pink or green was common, a lot of pink EVERYWHERE, the carpet had roses and… more pink. I bet it’s popular for weddings however. Most of the guys had a pink lemonade, after the girls had visited the men’s bathroom…. Alright, alright, it was because it also had crazy decorations.

It was a short hop to Morro Bay, by another freeway. I hope the roads get a little better, because currently, it’s just way too wide with not nearly enough corners (and this is the scenic route, there’s still the Interstate to the East). On the way into Morro Bay, the temperature finally started dropping, hitting a low of about 19 degrees.

We arrived at the Inn shortly before 5pm and Ken went to sort the accommodation while we parked the bikes up and unpacked. I retrieved the wireless internet code, and my world was balanced Wine and cheese was served by the Inn, some headed off for a walk, I caught up on KB and answered a few emails. Knight and Day was screening on the TV, so I watched that, the wireless disconnected, my world fell apart, and reception said I was so far away it was best to use an Ethernet cable, so I collected one. Close call that.

It was around 7pm, a sea fog had descended on the town and the temperature had noticeably dropped from the morning. Going for a walk around town, I spotted a small seafood place (called The Whales Tail) and had fish and chips and garlic bread. The chips were cottage? type, cut potato I think. Coleslaw as well. The batter was odd, separating from the fish very easily. The fish was a little bland, but flaked easily. Rounded it out with cheesecake, which was nice, served with a death wish of cream (more than a handful). Is it bad that I finished all the cream?

Back to the Inn, wrote up this blog, and will probably call it a night, as I need sleep, gas tomorrow morning again, and more busy freeways

Full day’s pics: https://photos.app.goo.gl/A3PnCM93i1NFMWA37