WEST COAST USA

Not a bird in the sky. Not a plant to be seen. No trees rustling in the breeze. In fact, no breeze. Just silence. Absolute silence. But soon to be disturbed by the cackling exhausts of a dozen or so raucous motorcycles shattering the quiet and bringing you to earth with a bump. Back on earth but in a biking heaven.

You are sitting in the middle of Death Valley, California and you can’t quite take in the heat or the atmosphere. You are just a few days into our West Coast, USA tour with so much to do and so little time to do it in.

We start in Los Angeles, collect our bikes, spend just a day in the City of Angels, before joining Route 66 and riding across the Mohave Desert (just 300 miles) to reach Sedona.

Then we trundle up to the Grand Canyon to ride the South Rim. After flabbers had been gasted, we take a gentle jaunt over the Hoover Dam, then pop into Las Vegas. Next comes Death Valley. The hottest place on earth. This is like sleeping in a tandoori oven, but hotter.

From there, off to Lake Tahoe. Possibly, just possibly, the prettiest place on the planet. Excluding Birmingham that is.

Not quite over, we trot along to Virginia City, Reno and finally, San Francisco. Back and forth over the Golden Gate Bridge whistling the tune from The Graduate. Peace reigns.

This tour, above all others is the tour when you can start living your dreams.

Biking does not get better than this.

Some say "you should never go back anywhere because it will never be as good the second time"

I disagree. When you do something for the first time, whether its to savour the scenery or the sex, it can be a bit overwhelming. The second time is better. You have time to understand what is happening to your head and to your heart and the first time you do something, that can be a bit difficult.

When you see the Grand Canyon for the first time you think "blimey, thats a big hole" or Vegas, "blimey thats a bit bright" Or sex. "blimey that was quick"  Or, in our Ross' case "blimey, that was expensive"

So in January 2012, we are off on a recce to the West Coast to make preparations for the Route 66 trip in May. I personally dont want to go there and visit Hollywood and San Francisco and the Grand Canyon. But sometimes, personal sacrificies need to be made. So I volunteered to go on my own.  I didn't want to go all the way to Arizona and California. I didn't want to get a Ford Mustang or an Electra Glide, park on the South Rim of the Canyon and relive some of the best memories that six decades can bring.  I would rather have stayed in England and suffered the damp, cold winter that chills your bones. But that's life I suppose.

And life is for living. West Coast USA is where you are reborn.