I'm back in the UK and well on the road to recovery. Traich healed, jaw infection gone, peg removed, external fixator will be removed from my hand in 3 weeks, then its only the re-modelling of my mouth to completed. Woo Hoo!
For those who have taken an interest in my travels, thanks. I'd like to extend much greater thanks to all of you who have sent their love and best wishes for a speedy recovery. I'd also like to thank those who have provided hands on support for Denise and I. Mark and Jayne flew out to Wichita and helped in inumerable ways. Whilst Denise and I concentrated on my recovery they ran about negotiating with insurance companies, meeting with the Sherrifs office and the thanking the Emergency Response Team. Without them, we would have drowned in administration. So from both of us we say thanks and send our love and gratitude.
We'd also like to thank Martyn and Heather for their support behind the scenes in the UK and Denise's mum holding the fort in Stourport.
For anyone interested in the extent of my injuries, here is a brief list. Smashed left hand now supported by an external fixator, four breaks to my jaw and the loss of a good number of teeth all wired together till its fixed, two cracked ribs, dislocated toe and various bumps and scrapes.
In the USA there are many states where the wearing of a crash helmet is not compulsory. Ignore this freedom! If I had not been wearing a helmet, an armoured jacket and jeans I would not be alive today. As it was I was on the critical list for three days and intensive care for six days. Wear a helmet and as much armour as you can!
I set out on an expedition to discover the real America and although its impossible to do this even in a couple if months, I did get a larger taste than most visitors have the opportunity to get in a lifetime. I set out with the objective of riding coast to coast and back. The only fixed part was the Route 50 return. I wanted to start the return leg by standing in the Pacific at San Francisco and finish by standing in the Atlantic at Ocean City on the East Coast.
I started the outbound route by following the Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway South as I wanted to avoid the early cold temperatures. Beyond this I had no firm plans except visiting New Orleans. I placed my route in the hands of people I met on my travels. "I'm heading west, what way should I go? What should I see?", I would ask those I met. On their advice I visited some of the most beautiful places on earth. Most I'd not even heard of.
Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway - 400 miles of federal park through the mountains of Virginia and North Carolina.
Great Smokey Mountains and the Dragons Tail - 318 bends through 11 miles of mountain road.
Nashville - for the country music in the honky tonks and the Grand Ole Oprey.
Natchez Trace Parkway - 444 miles of federal park across 4 states.
New Orleans - and the French Quarter.
Gulf Coast road to Galveston - where I saw at close quarters the devastation caused by Hurricane Ike.
Austin Texas and Fredericksburg.
Texas Hill Country.
Big Bend National Park.
New Mexico mountains.
Arizona Mountains and Apache Indian reservation.
Sedona - and its red mountains.
Grand Canyon.
Route 66 - through Oatman.
Mojave desert to Las Vegas.
Death Valley.
Sierra Nevada mountains.
Sequoia National Park.
Highway 1 - coast road to San Francisco Monterey - Cannery Row and Carmel.
San Francisco
I started the return leg and managed about half of route 50 - "The Loneliest Road"
South Lake Tahoe.
Northern Arizona.
Northern Utah.
Monarch, Colarado - 11 thousand foot crossing of the Rocky Mountains and the Continental Divide.
Kansas - the home of grain, cattle and unobservant 16 year old drivers.
So after all of this what have I learnt? What do I think of America? Of Americans?
I love the place, big lumbering thing that it is.
With the exception of two people everyone I met away from the big cities were friendly, open, helpful and genuinly interested in helping this stranger in their country. I think that riding a Harley helped a good deal. Riding a bike is a bit like walking with a dog. Its a great conversation starter. "Where are you going?", "Where have you come from?" "Thats a lovely bike....". Then there is the English accent which is another opener..... All the same, a simple question about directions easily turned into a 30 minute conversation.
Americans in my experience are conservative (with a small c), are very family orientated and word like values, home, respect, patriotism, church, and America are very likly to pop up in any long conversation. Where I travelled, the violent America of the movies and TV was no-where to be seen. I'm sure there are places that genuinly reflect the broadcast image, but nowhere that I went (and 6,400 miles is a long way!).
In San Francisco I picked up a fridge magnet which said....
"life isn't measured by the number of breaths you take, but in the number of times your breath is taken away".
This journey took my breath away so many times. Often several times a day. In one day, I left the Las Vegas playground, visited a brothel for a coffee, rode across Death Valley into a sandstorm and still finished the day with my breath being taken away by the snow capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada.
I still have a yearning to finish the trip and if I still have the bottle perhaps I'll finish the remaining 1200 miles next year. I thought I'd complete the journey for a charitable cause by way of thank you to all of those who contributed to my recovery. In the UK, the Air Ambulance is often, at least partly, supported by public donations. so I did consider this as a possible beneficiary of any small amount I could raise. However, as I have just received a bill for $14,500 for their services it would appear they dont need the cash!
Perhaps there is something I can do something for those bikers less lucky than myself who have ended up in the same hospital as I. A final thankyou that I would like to make is to all the nurses and medical staff who helped me through my last days in Kansas. Without them I would certainly not be here today.
Watch this space.
Love to all.
