The time of rest is over… After
spending few weeks with my family in Montreal, it was time for me to head on
the road again. Winter is approaching
Canada fast and I didn’t want to be caught in the Great lakes region when the
snow starts so, in a sunny day at the end of September I left Montreal heading
South to New York state.
I was apprehensive about crossing
the border into US because I haven’t been to America in few years and now I was
coming on a bike registered in Africa and alone. As I came into the US Immigration booth, the
officer look at my passport and when he found out I was coming from Africa, he
called few of his fellow officers and they all became very curious about my
trip. They gave me no problems
whatsoever, but were inquisitive about my itinerary from Africa and my
adventures. They told me they have never
seen an African bike making it into US before, which made me quite proud of my
Namibian, beautiful bike!
I decided to head straight West
from New York, through Pennsylvania, Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas,
towards the Rockies. The Mid-US states
were kind of flat and uninteresting, but as I approached Denver, the landscape
became increasingly beautiful and exciting.
The Rocky Mountains were looming ahead and I felt like the settlers of
Old going West in search of adventure.
A day before I arrived in Denver
I heard a clanking sound at the rear wheel and I got worried I screwed up
something there. As I stopped for the
night, I noticed that the shield for the shaft was cracked and a piece of metal
was sticking out. I was sure this was
the cause of the sound and I removed the shield. In the morning, however, the sound was still
there. I rode to Denver in slow speed
and I pulled into the Yamaha dealer.
When the mechanic came out he moved the rear wheel and immediately he realized that it was my
wheel bearings and took the bike in for service.
Once fixd, the bike ran smoothly
again and she was purring happy across the Colorado Rockies, not even noticing
the increase in altitude. I camped wild
that night in the mountains, on the shore of a lake and it felt good to be in
the wild again, but it was so cold I hardly slept that night. In the morning the tent and the bike were
covered in ice and the thermometer showed -4 degrees Celsius. I packed my stuff while shaking like a
leaf. I was heading to Moab, Utah to see
the Arches National Park, but before I reached there, I had to cross the
Rockies through the Independence Pass, 4000 m high. It was the coldest day of my entire riding to
date, even colder than Norway and when I arrived in Aspen, Colorado I was stiff
as a board. By contrast, 1 hour later
when I reached Utah, it was 28 degrees outside!
From here on, even though I rode
through beautiful scenery, like Arches, Monuments Valley in Arizona and
eventually Grand Canyon Park, my mental state was not right: I received some
bad news from home and I also felt more alone than ever before. I knew that in an expedition like this you
will have low moments, but mine came all together and from different angles and
caught me unprepared. This made the rest
of the ride to Las Vegas and California seem more like a chore than a pleasure
and serious doubts haunted me for days.
I struggled with the idea of quitting and returning home in Canada and
forget about everything.
I stopped in Malibu, California
in camp by the sea and for three days I debated whether I should go on or
not. There were more cons than
pros… However, somehow I pushed myself to
continue in spite of myself and my insecurities and forced myself to finish
this expedition. I have come now 51.000
km from Africa to this point and I have 25.000 more to go. It seemed that these last ones would be harder
to manage…
I left that Sunday morning to the
South, towards San Diego, stopping first at a major biker hotspot in the
mountains, called the Rock Store. It was
a great start to my journey to the South; hundreds of bikers meet here because
of the beautiful Canyon ride that leads to this Café. When the bikers saw me, they were very
friendly and interested in my journey from Africa and I got to know a few of
them.
I then rode towards San Diego and
then Yuma Arizona from where I decided to enter Mexico.
America was a swift affair, but I
loved riding my bike from the East to the West.
I have been to US many times, I traveled to all states except Alaska,
but now I saw America on my bike and this, for me, is a big milestone.
The leaves in New York State were just beginning their majestic Fall show
Arches National Park, Utah
The spectacular Grand Canyon: 1.6 km deep
