Out of Douglas and we head north and quickly get to Tombstone, site of the famous ‘Gunfight at the OK Corral’. Why did they call it the ‘OK Corral’? “Hey, look at my shiny new corral. Do you like it?” “Well…it’s OK” You wouldn’t sink your lifetime savings into the ‘OK Cafe’ or ‘OK Ice Cream emporium” would you? Bonkers! On to the freeway toward Phoenix. After all the poverty and struggling we’ve seen in south and central America just to keep alive and to keep some sort of roof over your head then America just seems vulgar, vacuous and vain. Excess and waste is everywhere you look. Americans indulge themselves with as many toys, tits and tat as their chubby little hearts desire when just next door their neighbours struggle to get any pleasure out of life.

It can’t be right. Talking about vulgar, nothing exudes vulgarity like our destination today, Vegas. We peel off the freeway at Phoenix and head cross country, through vast plains of Joshua trees and up to the Hoover Dam. Across the top we go then descend out the mountains in the dark and into the warren that is Last Vegas then head straight for the strip. It’s always weird to ride your own bike down the strip, or anywhere that is so familiar but so far away. Last time I rode down here I nearly got deleted by a bus. This time is was closer, and much much more scary. We’re at some lights, there are masses of people thronging along the pavements as the stripside shows entertain the masses. The neon frenzy is on full and its a sensory overload. Lights change, I’m in front, I pull away. 1st….2nd… 3rd….. SHIIIIIIIIITTTTTT. Suddenly from one side two men emerge from the crowd on the opposite side running full speed across the road. They’re either drunk or they’ve just robbed someone. One is looking over his shoulder and the other is concentrating on getting away.

I’m on a collision course. I hear the crowd at the side breath a collective ‘AHHHHH’ as they pr-empt the inevitable impact. It’s imminent I’m sure. I’m braking HARD and I’m leaning well forward over the tank to minimise my impact with the screen and instruments. I’m steering for the gap between them but it’s a moving target as they run. Last few yards…ready…here we go.. at the last moment I slip through the gap and just miss the lead runner by inches, my eyes are the size of saucers and my heartbeat is like a road hammer. I’ve no idea how we missed each other, it must have been very very close. To quick to think, wait for the consciousness to catch up again then thank lady luck for her help again, I certainly owe her one (again). We find the hotel easily for a change, biggest Super 8 in the world, classy! Harley Davidson cafe for dinner. Don’t bother – shit food and very expensive. $8.50 for a sprite for Gods sake!

Vegas is like a painted lady. In the dark with all the slap on and the flashing lights blinding you it looks attractive, but next morning, in the cold light of day with no make up on and all the wrinkles laid bare you realise you’ve made a mistake. Its a light that draws a lot of sad and lonely moths that you see staggering about at this time. It’s absolutely gross. Salt Lake City is the destination today. Not too far, maybe about 500 miles or so, we’ve decided to detour into Zion national park and maybe the north rim of the Grand Canyon. I’ve been here a few times and this is the coldest I’ve ever know it, even though it’s in the middle of a desert. Everywhere we go they’re having strange weather.

Maybe it’s the Icelandic volcano causing it, who knows! Up we go and into Zion. Zion is an extremely impressive place don’t get me wrong. The views are absolutely staggering and spectacular, the rock formations are completely MAD. It’s just a little to ‘Disney’ for me. So weird in places that it looks man made. We go north out the park and head across country. The sky in the distance looks pure evil, the dark dense clouds like a gang preparing for a fight and we’re running straight towards them. Prepare as best we can, all dressed up warm, waterproofed to the max, ready to rock. Towards the maelstrom we go. Heading for bad weather on a bike you feel all the tiny nuances as the temperature falls a touch, the wind begins to drop and swirl, pushing and pulling you about.

You feel the tiny spots of rain, then in this case, hail as it revs itself up for the main attack. You can see the line approaching, coming over the landscape towards you like a curtain. The sun is shining from behind us and curtain of water is illuminated in sharp contrast to the chaos on the other side of it. Through we go and the effect is immediate. The hail is bouncing off the road and pinging off the bike. It sounds like I’ve good a flock of woodpeckers trying to build a nest in my helmet. On a bike hailstones can sting, a LOT when they’re this big. As we get through the storm and climb we quickly get to see all its hard work in the form of snow and slush. Cold, very cold with snow covered mountainsides and slush on the road. Sit tight, look up,concentrate, no stopping and on to the city. Salt Lake City is a place I’ve not been to before. Surrounded by mountains it has the Temple at the centre and all roads are numbered outwards from it in all directions. Might get to see a bit of that tomorrow.

Service day today. A BMW man comes over in his 4×4 to lead us out of town to the dealers 20 minutes away. Its a biggie, BMW and Triumph. I’m on a tight budget so I ask if I can borrow an oil tray and I’ll do the bike myself using some 2 for 1 bottles of oil from the garage down the road. I ask if I can do the job in the car park but they kindly offer to let me use a lift in the workshop. They seem to have ordered the wrong side stand though which is an arse – to short. Tits, that’s going to make life difficult. I get a tyre and I’m done – $217. Two of the riders I was with today had bills of $1100 and $1200 though. I could live for a year on that! Get the tram into Salt Lake City with a few others.

We head straight for the Moron Temple. Yes, I did check that spelling. There are Morons everywhere. The grounds are full of brainwashed adolescent flies that buzz round you asking questions and just will not leave you alone. They all just seem so empty, just robotic and like the rest of the city, totally lacking any character. You just cannot take two steps without being pestered by these freaks. You just get rid of one then you immediately get another on your case. It drives us all just to leave – I just can’t stand it. As you walk around the city it all seems a bit Dr Who’ish, like everyone is under some sort of mid control. They could all break out into simultaneous worship at any moment. I don’t like this place at all.

We’re fast approaching the end of the trip and I have to make some difficult decisions. I have two options. One way doesn’t achieve the trip’s goal but is safe and easy, the other way leads to motorcycle madness and me really pushing my limits. It’s a difficult decision to make. I have 7 riding days left but others have more as they’re flying back later. There are only a few of us left at this point as others have either given up already or can’t push themselves to complete the last section. I just do not know what to do.

I still don’t know what to do today. I went on google last night and looked at the route. Salt Lake to Hyder to New York. It was a bit scary, 7 riding days is pushing it hard. In fact its just plain fucking ridiculous. Take a look for yourself. I’m avoiding the decision and going to go with the remaining riders, 600 miles north. Still leaning towards Alaska but not committing. Out early and it’s I15 all day long, easy as it gets, a practice day. I’m riding alone to see how I go and see if it helps me make a decision. The scenery is initially flat but get into Idaho and it gets a lot more bumpy. Idaho is the potato state, it even has a potato museum. Yes it does. It really does. I saw it.

Into Montana, I’ve never been here and I’m surprised how beautiful it is. Snow capped mountains line the freeway. It’s deserted. I want to take some pictures on the other carriageway so I ride over the meridian then down the other side the wrong way for a while – there is nobody around, weird! The road descends into densely forested mountains with smooth curved roads laced between them, easy easy riding. I get to the motel first by some way. About 600 miles in about 9 hours – not quick enough really but not too bad and I did stop a couple of time for a drink. The ride I’m planning is going to be a lot harder but as long as the weather holds it should be possible. Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself. It’s looking like there may only be 5 riders making it all the way to Alaska. 5 from 20.

Still dithering, no decision, still thinking, undecided I guess it’ll wait until the absolute last minute. Out we go and north some more, across northern Montana. It’s flat here and very very boring. There are three of us together in the group today, three of 5. It feels strange to have gone from so many to so few. We hit the Canadian border early. “Are you carrying any firearms? Explosives? Commercial goods?” “I’m on a flippin bike love. I’m going to have trouble hiding a pair of silk gloves, let alone a pump action shotgun, 3 tonnes of TNT and 4 washing sample washing machines” It seems she ‘s had a senceofhumourectomy and also had her smile muscles removed. We have to go in and give our life history to the officials inside. I didn’t expect this.

When I went round the world we crossed the Canada/USA border constantly with never so much as a hitch, just like going through a toll booth but now it all seems to have changed. Anyway, I tell the guard of my plans…twice, she didn’t believe me the first time. I still haven’t decided though, probably. Up into Canada we go. Alberta, land of the slow. Speed limits are lower than the US and are a lot more rigidly enforced. Last time I was here I got an official warning and was told to drive straight out the country. There is so much space, so many roads stretching to the horizon but you just can’t chase the tarmac here, it’s just too risky. In we go to Calgary. I can see the decision point arriving. Off in the distance I can see a big question mark hanging in the sky. It’s like a huge icon on The Sims, spinning round and wanting my attention. That will be the junction on the east/west Pan Canadian highway. I still haven’t decided.

As we approach and the shadow of the icon looms my head is spinning, trying to ignore the inevitable. Suddenly here we are, Highway 1, Trans Canadian Highway. Left or right? Fight or flight? I look behind me and see the other 2 with their left winkers on and almost as an involuntary movement my left hand hits the winker button. The fight is on, I guess it was always going to be that way, my soul is making decisions that my body is not sure it can complete. Green light, like a free diver I take a deep deep breath and head to the west. I’ll be back this way in a couple of days but I have a couple of thousand miles to do first.

Out of Calgary and into Banff we go. I’ve been through here a few times but never at this time of the year. The mountains are still waking from their winter hibernation, rubbing the snow from their eyes and pulling back the ice blankets from the lakes. It’s a spectacularly beautiful place. Take a quick look at lake Louise then run through to Jasper. The road to Jasper has to be one of the most scenic you can ride. 150 miles through the park along good fast roads. The Rockies are..well..exactly what they say on the tin. At this time of the year the road goes above the snow line and it’s often down to the sides of the road, very cold but thankfully dry, a fantastic ride in piercing sunshine. You’d never get bored of this ride. Out to Jasper for dinner then dodge the elk and moose to a remote lodge with water that smells of poo. One of the other riders who split up with us earlier is here so it looks like it’ll be 6 at the end. Alaska tomorrow, job done, then the fun begins.

I’m still in two minds this morning. The bike bungee is still pulling me east toward NY and home. What do you do? Flip a coin? Draw straws? Too easy. You need to make difficult decisions sometimes, it’s all good practice. Head west and I get to Alaska and complete the goal but leave myself a mileage mountain to climb. Head east and I could see some sights, cruise for a few days and not really put myself under any pressure at all. I’m not a quitter though, I’ve started so I’ll finish. I’ll never get the chance to ride from the bottom to the top again and I’ll regret it if I capitulate, especially at the last moment like this. OK, decision made. I take one last look at the road east. “Adios, I’ll see you tomorrow” I Turn left towards the 600 or so miles west alone.

Don’t look back at the bike bungee getting ever tighter. Every mile done today has to be wound off tomorrow + a lot more more besides. Oh well, what else would I be doing? The scenery is constantly astounding up here. I love British Columbia, it’s all just sooooo beautiful. I watch some black bears play with their mum at the roadside, watch the melting now bubble and fight over shallow rocky stream beds on its way to the sea, count a billion trees and let the miles roll by. Off Highway 16, two more turns to completion, the last piece of the jigsaw. Up 37 then finally the last left down to Hyder Alaska. The final 40 mile ride to Hyder is just fantastic. There are huge mountains everywhere and negotiating through them is like crossing the floor at a bouncers convention. They all stand shoulder to shoulder and the only road through often pinches wiggles through the dark gaps in between. You can feel their presence, their mass, their coolness as you brush past them on the way to my goal.

Finally, here we are, mission accomplished, ground zero. Hyder Alaska. Not a euphoric moment, I’ve been here before and it’s a one horse town straight out of the 1930s. Much better than corporate America though. I take the bike down to the water and stare out over the sound. Acres of logs are being corralled, bobbing about in the cool clear water. The air is super clean and fresh, straight out of a brand new air dispenser. How do I feel? Satisfied, yes. Happy, yes. Scared, certainly. I’ll wait until I’m back in NY before I have time to relax and reflect. Tomorrow the tarmac treadmill gets turned up to the max.

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