The world renowned Key West?

Key Largo is 95 miles from Key West which is the southern most tip of continental USA. A bit like Lands End in Cornwall. Which means I'll have to do the old John O' Groats to Land's End thing when I do Full Circle UK/Ireland. There is just one road in and out. US Highway 1. I crossed a seven mile bridge. I lost count of the bridges. The pelicans are an awkward looking, stumpy, double-chin, ugly bird but they can fly. In the strong winds I watched them hover about a foot above the cars in the north-bound lane. They were playing for sure. The waters are unbelievably turquoise blue. The air stinks beyond belief of rotten-egg farts, as if 1000 school boys let off a million stink-bombs. I nearly vomit in my helmet as mile after mile the wretched stench overwhelms. It ended just before Key West. I am dreading the return run. I instinctively wiggle my way through the streets to that southern tip. A couple offers to take my photo by the bollard. They are from Wakefield in Yorkshire. They have flown from UK and NY to be disappointed with the unkempt, scruffy, down-at-heels Key West. But I found some nice buildings. All a bit San Francisco victoriana meets plantation south but its a pity they don't build this style much anymore. It is picturesque. It was supposed to be a day off. Again. I quit early to update things and manage to dash out of the hotel and snap the setting sun. Only 90 miles to Cuba. eh? So when will that bridge be built?

Tuesday through the swamps.

Tuesday I left St. Petersburg frustrated at the internet. It took over 10 minutes at the hotel to upload any webpage so I was left with hours of work undone. The sunshine soon erased my grumpiness and I took the suggested I275 over a stupendous bridge and then cheated by wacking it down the I75 towards Key Largo to make up for lost time. Pity as I believe the coast road is nice. At Naples I swung off the Interstate and took US 41 through the swamps. I rode steadily at a horrid 45-55mph for the whole way. It takes FOREVER at these ridiculous 1920's speed limits. I kept gloating over the fuel savings as a way to avoid speeding. I stopped at an airboat tour shop for directions. "Chrome road south" she said. "Like the chrome on your bike". Except it was spelled Krome Road. Some local stop had a collection of animals in cages and the friendly chap teased me and let me in for free to take some photos. The Harley blokes outside asked me what my bike was. They had never heard of an R1... get a life guys! The Harley in the photo had a lot of krome. That turkey was the ugliest thing I have ever seen apart from the morning mirror. I liked the yellow snake. I also saw a HUGE soft-shelled turtle at the side of the road. Fortunately he was headed off the road. Birds are common including vultures, pelicans, egrets, cranes and I also saw wild turkey. My camera batteries ran out and THEN I saw the gators in the swamps! Fume!

I finally made Key Largo as dark settled in and chose the tackiest motel I could find. Proof is in the morning photos. What on earth posseses these people to make such horrendous trash? The friendly girl was from New Joisey and did me a good deal. 290 slow miles. Boy did I sleep.

Monday at Sage Florida

Monday I set out from Inglis for St. Petersburg. Nothing worth seeing really. Mental survival on the straightest roads in the world was all that was called for. I was apalled though that for what seemed 50 miles on US19 southwards into St. Petersburg it was just shopping malls. I am talking consumerism on a scale that almost qualifies as immorality! I suppose for shopping fanatics they'd call it immortality.

I managed to memorise the directions to the large Sage offices in a very lovely setting and was warmly greeted by Elizabeth Taylor. It's true! Here's her picture! Valerie came right down and brought Chris Shibel and Mary soon afterwards. Chris took the photo. They were delighted with the concept and the charity and promised to follow the blogs. I received some ABRA (HR software) stickers and Mary promised me some Peachtree stickers too. Everyone in Sage is busy preparing for the HUGE Insights event in DC in 2 weeks. I'll see you there guys!

I was telling the Sage staff about "Wild" Bill and his comment about tyres. I left the building and saw white fabric showing through my tyre! I stopped at a Comfort Inn and the lad let me use the pooter to locate a Yamaha dealer about a mile away on Gandy Blvd. Barney's fixed me up with a new tyre (180/55/ZR17 at my request to compare turning speeds) and a new sprocket and chain. They gave me the best prices (thank goodness!) and excellent advice. I put their stickers on my bike! It was worrying because I had not seen a Yamaha dealer en route for 3000 miles and here when I needed it most they were .8 of a mile away!

They finished after normal 6pm closing so I chose to skip the incoming storm and just stay at that Comfort Inn! Whilst at the dealers I met a father with 3 sons all of whom rode bikes. The little fellows were all eager-eyed and happy. They were learning on dirt which was very wise of their father who seemed very careful with his boys but enthusiastic too. I was so relieved to sort that rear tyre I took a photo of the new aluminium sprocket and rear tyre. Sad I know...Now USA, how do you pronounce titanium and magnesium? Right, so everyone practice now...aluminIUM. Well done! See you can do it!

Sunday and amazing new friends

Sunday April 27th. I woke up late. Or so I thought. I jump out of the flippin' bed and gasp. "I gotta flamin' check out!" Except that I was in Florida and RIGHT ON the time zone. Just JK luck. I could have slept an hour longer in the beach house! I ride 2.5 miles, cop car at doughnut shop on left, and realise I still have the key. I ride back...mornin' officer... I thought Sunday would be a disaster.
The scenery is fabulous along 98 from Mexico Beach. I rode into Apalachicola (try saying that 3 times quickly) and stopped to snap some pics of this typical turn-of-the-century town. Two BMW sports bikes round the corner. I rode down the street and saw them parked up at the Gibson Inn, a lovely 1907 Inn with a wrap-around porch and rocking chairs. (http://www.gibsoninn.com/) That's when I decided to stop a while and get to know the locals. There was plenty of banter and teasing. Dave Marley had the blue and white BMW Cup Replica which is very rare here in the USA. "Wild" Bill White rides the R1200S named Spook. Bill is almost 71. He names all his bikes. He rides every day. He told me he's bought 17 rear tyres already. They last a few thousand miles because as he says "These roads is just sandpaper man!" Bill was always happy and chuckling, Dave was dry and full of good tips. On the porch was Darrel Smith. He rides a little Honda with highish bars. He took some teasing he did. Bill and Dave were headed south too and invited me to ride along. We rode along that stunning coast and Dave set the "brisk" pace. I looked behind and "old" Bill was right with us all the way...up to 3 figures no problem. They took me 25 miles south to a small festival where we sat and had chicken wings and listened to a guy playing guitar. The guitar man was little Honda Darrel's brother. I guessed Darrel heard him often enough. We sat and laughed and Bill told story after story. His first bike was a Harley he bought in 1948. A TWO-STROKE that was a war reparation design taken from DKW. The Brits called it the BSA Bantam I believe. Then an Indian he rode in the dark at 2am with no brakes, no lights, and a HAND gear change lever. He just belly-laughed through the whole story. Then on to sad experiences with Ducati. He swopped that Duc (I think he just had a bad one) for BMW and stuck a full race exhaust on it. Gotta go faster once you're over 70, right?

As one ear-splitting Harley after another rode off I asked these men why they didn't ride Harleys. "Bin there, done that" said Bill. "It is such an unnatural riding position". They talked of the unreliability, the ubiquitous, tiresome "useless poser clothing" they all cloned into, and the supposed "bad-boy" image. These two guys got on well with all the Harley riders in town but chose to focus on "real riding machines". I was very surprised and impressed by them and when Dave offered to let me stay at one of his beach-front condos I knew I would come back one day to ride with them again. That's when I spotted Bill's little badge. His message to SUV drivers. 70 years old and still laughing at life. You just have to love American's after meeting these two.

From there to Perry the 98 moves inland and is a long straight road between pine trees. I mean straight. So straight I fell asleep. Yes...asleep. I woke up at the only known bend in America to see a car 6' in front of me. Boy did I swoop right quickly. With eyes the size of dinner-plates and the heart rate of a chipmunk on crack I rode WIDE awake to Perry and eventually Inglis.

Cheap Motel. I took the first one I could see. I asked about food but the place was closing. There's a pub round the corner. I walked into one of the craziest places I have yet been. Velma Williams never stopped chuckling and served the best pizza I've enjoyed in a long time. Kenny Eunice, of Focus Real Estate Group, told me tons of history about the area and even called a DJ mate of his and got me talking about doing an interview on a radio station. Then Manic Mike (not at all manic) joined in. They told me about how Inglis became the laughing stock of America a few years ago when the woman who was the Mayor claimed she had expelled the Devil from Inglis and even had it printed up on Official letterheads. They took my picture with Mike and said they'd spread the word that the Devil was back in Inglis and drinking with Jesus in Our Pub. I guess this would qualify as devilment. Everyone in that place was a character and they wished me all the best with the charity. I haven't stopped laughing since I hit Florida...except when I woke up in that bend...

Sunday was a big day...

Well I managed to survive Sunday. 280 miles seemed like a million at times. Once it starts to get dark and you have no idea where you'll find somewhere to sleep it gets a little "interesting". Of course this is America, the land of ease and convenience, so there is never any real call to worry. I think it's the long straight roads that are so tiring really. That and growing 9 eyes on stalks for Police. High-speed evolution is exhausting.

I met the most incredible characters yesterday and rode past some lovely views but as I have to move on in 5 minutes I'll upload pics and write the adventures tonight.

Beautiful West Florida

I left pensicola at 11:30am on Saturday and headed for Panama City. An easy day. My mate woke me early with a phone call (early by Brit Saturday morning standards...) so I decided to top up the oil and repack the bike in a new way due to the heat down here. I tried the backpack on the passenger seat but it was more irritating than when it sits like that old friend on my back and with these thick leathers the heat was the same. I actually fell asleep whilst riding! I was so tired that during a long straight stretch at a constant 50mph I realised I was nodding off and coming to with a jerk 1/2 a mile down the road. That is not advisable so I stopped for a late breakfast with tea (horrid, it is very rare to get a good cuppa here in the USA) and then spotted a Hot Rod gathering so I swung round and snapped pics. I LOVE flamed American Hot Rods so that brief stop was fun! Enjoy the pics Don!

By the time I cleared Panama City and hit Mexico Beach I was knackered and in need of fuel. I gave up and booked a room at a local motel. It was a smoker and the carpets reeked so I decided to move on. Then the chap at the reception offered me their Beach House for the same rate, but just for the one night. To add to the temptation about 25 German bikers were due to arrive.

I grabbed the little house (2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, kitchen...heck it's WAY bigger than my own home in England) and within 15 minutes was in the most beautiful surf on the best beach. Cancun Mexico? You must be nuts! This part of Florida is WAY better and they don't stick that awful cilantro in everything from corn flakes to tomato juice!

I washed and dried clothes (believe me, when you ride like this a washer/dryer gets exciting!) and then went to Mango Mandy's or whatever it was called. A guy called Kerry was playing favourites on his guitar. NOW I see what Jimmy Buffet and Margueritaville do to Americans! He played van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" for me so I could remember my daughter Stephanie Elizabeth and he did a very nice version too. When he played "Sweet Home Alabama" the place was rocking and no wonder as that is one of the greatest hits ever. People party so easily with live music and food and drink. His girl Jackie asked for my card to follow the journey and said it was good to help kids.

Then the Germans came over and boy did we have a laugh. Alex Rudiger did a fine job of filming and organising drinks (they drank the bar dry!!!!) and we joked in Deutsch and it made me rather homesick for the fun people in Bavaria. They are an electrical firm "Aus Nuernberg" and together with their clients they flew to Florida, rented Harleys and were riding and partying for 12 day. Can you imagine if I tried to get 25 American clients together for a bike ride? The lawyers! The HR! The insurances! The naysayers! Many of these cheerful people asked for my card and I knew they would donate to the kids. Have a great ride you Bavarian Bikers! Von die Englische dep aus Muenchen. I mog die! Tschuss!

Sunday should see me headed well south toward St. Petersburg and the Sage office there. I'll behave then...

Floribama party.

Well, sort of a party. Maybe when the fish flinging gets underway tomorrow it will be "big".

In Europe 23 Harleys, 50 SUVs and 2 country bands don't count as big. I rode 50 miles return to see this "big" event and paid $20 to have the lovely barmaid show me around and explain things. Uh... no barmaid, no need to "show me around" the 3 bars, and rock music was banned as too aggressive. I heard 2 good blues/rock tunes from a bunch of over 50 guys with very long white beards...

Still, I met some fun American guys and gals that asked for info on the charity for kids (I believe Americans want to be family oriented even if they do corner the market on disfunctional family life). Most insisted on their English heritage. I met a Mr. Burgess with a stunning blond wife of German decent, who insisted I tell all you Brits that no matter WHAT HAPPENS the Louisiana boys will stand by us. You know what? I believe him. He says he is directly desended from Geo. Read who signed the Declaration of Independance. Now that is some history. They were the perfect movie-star couple and typical of the open friendliness I recieved here in southern USA. Of course I cannot get enough of that southern accent so I had to nurse just ONE SMALL tin of Bud Lite (barf) for several hours to meet red-necks, hippies, history freaks, drunks, Harley riders and white supremacists that would only vote for Obama. Go figure. I rode home carefully and bought a drink at some wayside stop. The husband, wife and 82 year-old mother were delightfully friendly and thanked me for my business. All $3.85 0f it. Now why can't we all be so nice?

Todays Rant...

Before I get into gear let me apologise to Loisiana. I realised after a few hours sleep and some pondering once I hit the nice smooth roads of Mississippi and Alabama that Loisiana have problems no amount of hard work will fix. The flippin' WATER! Of course! Those roads buckle and sag due to wetland sag! I forgive you Louisiana... now all you Loisiana riders go by a big trailie.
Ahhhhh. My rant. Today's rant is about USA traffic lights. I am sure I have seen skeletons of starved people in SUVs at traffic lights. They change once a month IF the guvment is on top of things. I time your flippin' lights with my temp gauge. I roll up at 170F. 4 hours later at the same junction, with no cars spotted for 3 3/4 hours, it reads 30000F and the ONLY vehicle (pronounced Vee-HIckle in USA) is a cop car watching me from the cool underpass.
I watched at city lights. It turns green eventually. Nothing. Nichts. Zilch. Then SLOWLY a bumber moves toward the ground. The 1989 Buick 88 starts to move... I look at the date on my watch...it's Monday. By Tuesday that car should signal left and pull the lanyard to indicate it wishes to turn left before Wednesday. QE2 is finally leaving the docks. I so want to do an Evil Kneivil and ride over their Opera-House vinyl roofs but that black and white car with the doughnuts and coffee on the dash bristling with guns prevents me. Thursday. 1 Buick 88, an Eldorado and a Mazda 3 got through. The Mazda took 1.3 seconds. Friday. I am first in line but the cops are back and looking mean. The guns are on the dashboard. The light changes and I let out the smoking clutch. I reach 23 mph when I hear the sirens and see the lights. I was way too fast. "Watcherhoory boy?" he says.
The problem is that you Americans use automatic cars. Just like your motels and fast-food chains that give you a STRAW to stir coffee (Oh THAT will work, right Mr. bean-counter!) you use auto boxes with hydraulic clutches. As the straw SLOWLY gets the coffee going clockwise so your liquid clutches SLOWLY turn the gears. Signal Monday, Start Tuesday, finish turn Wednesday. No WONDER you all start at 5am and arrive home at 8pm...

A word from our sponsors.

I have been so caught up in telling you all about America and the charity that I totally forgot to tell you about Sage and Swiftpage and the other helpful chaps.

Sage. 3rd largest behind Microsoft apparently. We sell their CRM products and this ride features ACT! the world's NUMBER ONE contact management software (it's for sales/marketing nutters). Without David and Debbie and Ryan at Sage this would have been a right poxy little affair. DesignR1 have a load of nerdy guys that help get ACT! tuned up for your company. They scare me.
Swiftpage. Cool guys (Bob and Dan) from Colorado wrote this email marketing add-on. I use it. (That means ANYONE can!). I like how it takes care of the opt-out misery-guts. It let's me sleep an hour later. The bike will be on the Swiftpage stand at Sage's big conference in DC called Insights. Swiftpage do online training that explains things very well. Some things are a bit "programmerish" but I'll kick their butts to change those things to suit us marketing/party duffers. T.E.A.M. Arizona. Ron Arieli helped me out with training both basic (I was pathetic but finally managed my USA bike licence) and Advanced Riding (that one I managed very well). I met some great people too. If your missus says "Bikes are dangerous" just ask her " So do you WANT to be in my will?" and go get trained. Safety and handling are paramount here. Skip the cruiser thing too. I'd recommend a big trailie for safety and comfort. (See BMW and JK on a KTM pics)
Cycle Gear. These chaps were so friendly and helpful and even remembered my call from England 3 weeks before I arrived in AZ! They gave a discount for the charity and the gear I bought has been great so far! Get that guitar going Christopher!
RideNow. Jake Miller sorted me a Scorpion EXO1000 helmet with flip down fighter-pilot shades that have been a life-saver. Good on ya mate!
KG Sprayers. Rob Toth, Mel and Stuart are in Aldershot, England and do shot-blasting, spraying and powder-coating. Bike frames and wheels are no problem. Rob is my neighbour and he drags me to the pub all the time. His girlfriend Pippa sends fun emails when I get ticked off. Great people and real friends. His work is top-notch and he says "Fursdai" for Thursday in a true "Suvvern" accent!
Z Custom Leathers. Adolph and Dianne (from England...rule Britannia!) measured my pathetic frame (how do you measure a baked potatoe with spaghetti limbs and coconut hair?) and made a suit so tough I could work on the space station with it. (See photo for proof!). When I hit that Mack truck grill at 160mph that truck will be soooo sorry!
4KAM. Ian from north of Manchester (ayup lad, I'll 'ave a pint of 'Boddies) has been extremely helpful. If I wasn't such an anti-electronic lazy plonker I'd have the vids up on the blogs. Tough cameras pointing front and rear film all the action. If the countryside goes even slightly hilly my conscience will drive me to get them working... That's about it. I read MCN and go to Crash.net for racing news and that's it folks.

Buick Bling...

OK I've had enough of this childishness.
About 1953 Buick stuck 3 "gunholes" on the front wing. Hey, it was a few years after WWII and the Spitfire had everyone excited. I know, my dad was in the RAF and my grandad had one of those cars! I actually believed there was a machine gun in the wings. How cool was that?

Anyway, it was the era of tacky image-borrowing for cars that had made zero progress since 1939. So the go-faster stripe era dries up and GM decides to go with just a gentle touch of retro kitsch. Now every eedjut from Louisiana to Florida has lick-and-stick gun holes on the wings! I saw a '99 Accord with them stuck on the wings! Give me a break!
After the levels of acrylic adhesive chrome stick-on rubbish I've witnessed I am thinking of opening a Help Hotline for guys with serious "stick-this-on-your-car" addictions. A huge Billboard will show a concerned girlfriend with the words "Do you, or someone you know, suffer from Buick Bling syndrome? Help IS available. Call the UK now on 01428 641 722"

Oh, don't call THAT number...it's my home in Haslemere, Surrey. I'm away in Florida.

I am impetuous but I like to be proven wrong...

Thursday April 24th I had a morning of emails and calls. Richard Gordon is a consultant in Westport CT and he is doing everything he can to support the charity ride. I was blown away as invited me to visit him and watch a Regatta in Westport which he pointed out is Paul Newman's hometown and very close to the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang offices and camp. I should get up there on Friday May 16th so stay tuned.

I left New Orleans about 1:30pm. The city is very quiet and traffic is slight. I whizzed about the streets looking for the US90 East. Why do convention Centre designers all assume that all humans only ever want to end up at their ugly buildings for conferences? Eedjuts. I gave up and hit the I10 East towards Mobile Alabama. I stopped for petrol and a lad with the most stunning Yamaha R6 (600cc) in the same red as mine was tanking up. He gave me directions to the 90. Here's where the subject line plays in. As I turned south to take the 90 along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico it said "SCENIC ROUTE". I was pleased. A photo of the scenery is attached. Miles of strip malls and gigantic signs and billboards for such stunningly attractive establishments as transmission repair shops and "Payday Check cashing". Impetuously I began my own in-hemet rant against the ugliness of commercial America. Then I swung east and there was the sea. White, soft, sand beaches stretched for miles. My head swivelled like a kid with $100 in Toys-R-Us. Crack the neck right to see the beach, crack it left to see the huge beach-front houses, most in a faux Plantation/Colonial/Cape Cod style. Odd ones were turn-of-the-century turrets/Victoriana or even that clunky-chunky, shingled front porch 1920's style. Some sported the lacy New Orleans french balcony cast iron that smacks of Caribbean. I really enjoyed that ride. Except for the road. The whole stretch is under construction so it was rough and a bit slow. I spotted a beach-front bar at Pass Christian called Shaggy's. (Brits refrain from comments!) I had a salad and met some locals who all rode Harleys and showed off their tattoos. Arthur was from Scotland and had to drive 2000 miles for a funeral. But he was glad to be back with friends. The barmaid Veronica told me about the Floribama festival so I'll go there tonight. Thousands of bikers and bands too! Wahooo! Biloxy looked nice. I think the giant gutar was in Pascagoula...

I was riding along when a car in front suddenly braked and swerved in the middle of nowhere. I saw a turtle hunched down on the road. The little plonker was crossing the road at the pace of a slug in molasses. How he survived I do not know. I stopped and moved him to the grass verge. As I waited for him to poke his head out and thank me a big bloke on a Suzuki Hayabusa stopped to see if I was OK. That's the sportbike community I love. Passionate, helpful and more concerned with biking than posing. He asked about the charity and said he'd ask his boss if the company can make a donation. He turned around and I realised he had ridden beyond his turning just to check on my welfare. I rode with a setting sun on my back into Mobile and again fell for the old houses along Government Drive. Through to Spanish Fort and down to Daphne. At a big junction at 7:30pm I knew I could ride no further and lo and behold there was a motel. A tad pricey but I couldn't care less at that point. Louisian, Mississippi and Alabama in one day.

Shower, shave, crisp, white, cool shirt and soft jeans and I hit the steakhouse. 3 chaps were chatting and one spoke to me. We chatted. It turns out that Web MacCartee and Josh Todd are planning to produce a product called Peanuts & Crackers for children. It's designed to get kids writing about their experiences and drawing a moral from those experiences. They plan to then get these distributed. The idea is to improve communication skills and relationships within the family and at school. I was impressed as they really seemed to care about the future of kids. Webb worked in Nascar so my ears picked up! Anyway, I'll keep in touch and find out more. Miss Zzimmermmann will test the idea with the local gang of kids that beat down her door every day for sweets.

I updated things until very late, overslept and am now drinking my 10th coffee in a Comfort Suites lounge. I need more time for emails than riding but the interest in helping the kids is very gratifying.