watching the waves roll in

 When I first dreamed of riding my motorcycle across the country, my destination was to be the Pacific Coastal Highway. I'd never been west of Colorado, and the PCH seemed like an exotic, fun, new adventure. The PCH, also known as Route 1, runs north along the California coast from Los Angeles. The highway offers stunning views of the ocean and mountains. Just stunning. We got some video on the GoPro, but you can't see the water... The water... oh the water. The way the waves crashed on the rocks made me wish I had an afternoon or fifty to sit on the Pacific Coast and watch the waves roll in. I heard a long time ago that you should "live in California once... but leave before it makes you soft." If I didn't have such deep rooting in Georgia,  I might live here for a while. Just to watch the waves roll in..

Jake and I at lunch

 Luckily, Margie and I had a friend move to the PCH area a few years ago. Jake graciously took timeout of his day to lead us around to the good lunch spot and up the highway. The road wasn't all beach front, some of it went through farmland that makes up a large part of California... we traveled pasta strawberry farm that smaller like HEAVEN.

 Sadly, I didn't get to see the Big Sur area during daylight. Such is the nature of traveling on a motorcycle I guess. And honestly, it was a rough day emotionally. The views and the company were beyond spectacular,  but the PCH is the furthest from my home that I could get, and stay on this continent. And I've started feeling my home pulling on my heart. I miss my dogs. I can't wait to bury my face in Cyrus' neck. I'm sure he STANKS  after being on my folks' farm for the last few weeks, and Dobby, the little asswipe, I am so excited to see that pup. Dammit :)

Hurricane Amanda

 Three thousand three hundred and twenty-nine miles from the East Coast in Georgia to the West Coast in California :)

 After we parked in San Diego I slept for a two hours and then we were up and being productive. I was staying with a Sergeant Major, I didn't want him to think I was a pussy ;) Hey I was raised by veterans- these are my people. Of all the different types of people in the world, I am most comfortable around service members. I understand their language.

 We took my bike down to Eason at House of Motorcycles in San Diego. My mechanic in El Paso told me I would need a new tire soon. Also I lost a bolt in my kickstand somewhere along the highway. I really needed that replaced so I didn't have to hunt down a rock to keep my bike and heavy bags from falling over when we stopped for fuel. And San Diego was the logical place to get it because we were gonna hang out with Margie's bad ass cousin all day. Those guys really took care of me. I explained that I was only in town for the day. They don't service Ducatis so they couldn't fix my leak, which is fine since I really would like Vic or Daniel from NPRDucati to fix it back home. But they set me up with a tire and bolt for a reasonable price. Nolan (the mechanic who serviced my bike) even noticed that I was missing a clip on my chain and fixed it for me. I was really happy with my experience there, if you need work while you're passing through San Diego, I highly recommend them.

 After dropping it off we went to lunch at Cafe Elysa. I ordered the eggs benedict and they were delicious. I understand that all their ingredients are locally sourced. Eggs, bacon and sausage, watermelon and strawberries,  everything was grown or produced in California. The cafe was a block from the Pacific Ocean so we walked to their and I got to put my toes in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life. I felt accomplished. I have always told myself that I could accomplish anything I set my mind too, and I'm really starting to believe it :)

 We returned to Calvin's home where we loaded up the surfboards. And headed back out for the beach for my introduction to surfing!!!! Now, in case you are reading this and you don't know me well, I have a crippling fear of being in water when I cannot see the bottom. When I'm swimming in deep water, I start to hyperventilate, my muscles stop responding to commands from my brain...it's not a pleasant experience. But, I figured if I could ride 800 miles in a day on a motorcycle, cross the country on bike, and all that entails, there were worse ways to go than having a creature swim up from the depths and eat me. And somehow I was able to master my fear, at least for a little while. Not that I'm fearless, by any means. But I'm certainly different, changed.

 Plus it helped that Calvin truly is a badass. He has a Purple Heart and a slew of other awards from his service. I wanted to do a whole paragraph on just his life, because he's had a fascinating, albeit tragic career, but he asked me not to. I've found members of the service are often hesitant to allow others to brag on them. I want to tell the world some of their stories because I feel like the majority of the population doesn't know what's it's like to be in the military. I certainly didn't (even though my parents and several other people in my life served), we just don't talk about it. I knew this trip would change my perspective of my country. The landmarks and wonders of the world have been everything and more than I expected. But I wasn't prepared to learn so much about the military.  The lifestyle, the sacrifices,  the rewards. I am soooo glad we are raising money for The Wounded Warrior Project, because it makes it easy to bring the military into my conversations with people. I have learned so much. I get to talk to people about the military who aren't exposed to military in everyday life.

 If you want to learn a little about Sgt Maj, you can read here, but know that he is so much more than even that bio could describe. I was truly honored to spend time with him, learn from him, and  I knew the Loch Ness and Great Whites would sense Calvin's powerful presence and stay away. (I felt safe with him.)

 The first Pacific Hurricane of the season was sitting off the coast of Southern California. The National Weather Service named her Hurricane Amanda. I shit you not. She did not come to land, and she didn't push up crazy waves to surf on. The National Hurricane Center said "Amanda is now the strongest May hurricane on record in the eastern Pacific basin during the satellite era." She reached a category 5 in strength with winds up to 155 miles per hour. I should stop by a track and see if I can get up to that speed just for kicks and giggles. Wellington would top out, but maybe I could convince Margie to let me borrow her Duc Hyper 1100.

 I didn't stand up on the surfboard. I barely got to where I could balance without flipping my board over. I caught two waves for a few seconds and immediately fell over. But I stayed in the water and tried until my muscles started betraying me by cramping up. Surfing is one of those things that people make look easy. It was an effing workout. Calvin caught a few waves, the three of us smoked cigars on the beach. I walked a little and found a cool rock to take home to my mother, Margie and Calvin caught up more, as families do when they spend years apart :) 

Lastly,  I did get to try In and Out Burger. So many people told me to try it that I caved on my commitment to only eat at mom/pop restaurants. We added some jalapeños Calvin had for extra kick. It woulda been awesome without them, but y'all know I like spice ;)

Next update will be about our ride up the Pacific Coastal Highway!

~Amanda Terranova

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all my loving

 We slept in yesterday (this is the best thing about not having a set route or timetable). I knew we were planning on staying two nights on Brett's couch because we wanted to spend some time with him. (Also I needed him to make sure Wellington's oil leak wasn't going to cripple our trip - he entered my life as my moto-mechanic at NPRDucati and became my friend). So Margie and I stayed up late catching up with Brett, even after traveling 800 miles :) I think we may try to qualify for Iron Butt on the way home.

 So we moved leisurely to his favorite shop Ace Moto. Where we washed the bikes, shared our story, and talked about The Wounded Warrior Project. Looks like Welly's oil leak is going to survive the trek back across the country (crosses fingers). And the guys from Ace took us to Tony's BBQ for lunch (Thank you Ace and Chop!) where I had this magical dish called a hash burrito. I don't know or care what kind of meat it is because it was effing delicious. A little burnt and crunchy. Yum! (Turns out it is the fat and trimmings from their delicious brisket chopped and cooked again... which explains why it was so amazing.)

 While we were at Ace's I met Keith,  a local El Pasian(?) who possesses a wealth of knowledge about fun riding in the area (mostly in the mountains to the north in NM).  We left Brett to help with some bikes at Ace's and set out to follow Keith around to a few of El Paso's motorcycle shops. It sucks that the US ships so many of our men and women out to that desert (I was told Fort Bliss was the largest training facility our country has). It was midafternoon, and Margie and I were following Keith down the interstate....along this stark, beautiful, desert mountain terrain. I kept looking at the mountains, thinking that there had to be a fun road to ride up there.... a dirt road or SOMETHING. Suddenly, Keith made a left turn and we were riding into the hills. From what I could tell, we rode the ONE curvy road in that desert to Santa Teresa Motorsports. It had long fast sweepers and lots of scenery to look at. I bet the view from up there is phenomenal at night... all the dancing lights of El Paso, Fort Bliss, and Juarez.

 I'm really looking forward to my next trip out west (yeah, I'm dreaming already.... :) because of all the awesome people I've met along the way. Like Diego at Santa Teresa Motorsports who seems like a riot. And Tiffany at Freeway Powersports- who gave me her personal cell number in case we ran into trouble as we crossed New Mexico and Arizona.

 Unfortunately,  El Paso doesn't seem like the greatest place to live. Brett told me about the hail and hellish dust storms. The lack of curvy roads made me ache for Georgia.  But the people who live there are really cool. And the food... they can effing cook. The three of us (Brett, Margie, and I) even found some decent jazz music at The Black Orchid (though we were slightly under dressed in our tshirts). It was fun hanging out with Brett's Army buddies and gave me a lot of food for thought heading into Memorial Day.

 Margie was able to convince Brett to miss Five Finger Death Punch and join us for the next leg of our trip. I don't know how she did it- the woman's got skills. Especially considering he spends a lot of time "camping" in the desert for the Army already. And we headed out for Truth or Consequences, NM. Yes, a town exists called Truth or Consequences. It's in New Mexico. We found a campground on the Rio Grande River and set up camp.

Brett's bad ass ride for the 
day- a Royal Enfield, you can find them 
in El Paso at Ace Moto

  Camping in the desert is not for sissies. But the rewards are more than enough to make up for the weather. The weather during the day was glorious.  The sunset lit up the mountains,  giving them a golden-red glow. It was picturesque. And I have seen more wildflowers in the desert than back home. Purples, oranges,  yellows... There's all sorts of cacti blooming too. At night, the wind picked up something fierce and it rained. It was cold, very cold. Very. I think I got probably three hours of sleep.

 Strangely, I woke refreshed. It might be the exhilarating adventure or something like it. But no matter how little I sleep I always have more than enough energy for the next leg... oh, and coffee, lots of black, delicious, coffee. If you find yourself in Truth or Consequences look up Happy Belly Deli for really good healthy food options. I hope you do find yourself there at least once :)

 In the morning we said goodbye to our Private First Class and hit Hwy 152 into Gila National Forest. Where we finally found some curves, they almost reminded me of the Tail Of the Dragon on the North Carolina/Tennessee border. I'm not an advanced rider by any means (I finally feel like a solid intermediate three years after I got my license and probably 15 to 20 thousand miles or so on two wheels.), and I'm still learning how to straighten out a curve and ride turns with a decreasing radius. I could've ridden those roads for days, but we have a mission to see the Pacific Coast and get home to our families, friends, pups, and beds.

Arizona. .. or New Mexico, I can't remember

If you must cross Arizona on a bike, I recommend making the leg at night. Yeah, we missed some awesome scenery, but the part we rode in the afternoon was miserably hot. It heat sedated me and made me groggy after my sleepless night on the ferocious Rio Grande. The terror of watching a dust storm, crossing the sand, gaining speed, heading for my line was exhausting (it never before occurred to me that I could run out of throttle when I needed it). At night the weather cooled a little, and lights danced on the horizon again, reminding me of the ride into El Paso.

Sunset just outside of Phoenix

 I'd planned to stop for the night in Yuma, AZ. But when we pulled in to fuel up around 10pm the gas station attendant told us that the temperature reached 107°F during the day and it was still 101°F. Our air cooled bikes don't work well at high temperatures,  so after a very short powwow (me:"fuck that" Margie:"lets ride") and a long break, we pushed off.

  Cleveland National Forest, the park, reservation, and mountainous area just east of San Diego has elevations that reach 4000+ feet. The constant blast of cold air was a bit of a shock after the heat of the desert.  It was probably close to three in the morning by that point, so the cold helped keep me awake. I suspect the park would've topped my list of favorite rides so far if I had chosen to stop and change into my warm clothes. But I'd gotten to a point where I just wanted to get to the coast. I'm more than a little stubborn, driven, ambitious,  headstrong, whatever.

 Oh, there was one eerie event in those mountains. So the leg through Cleveland was dangerous. There were high winds trying to blow us of the mountains, lots of risky turns and bridges. Luckily, the cold air kept us sharp. All of a sudden, I had a thought- Slow down a little and watch for animals that inhabit the wilderness. Not 60 seconds later, just out of the next curve, a creature lumbered across my line. If I hadn't slowed on the other side of the mountain, if would've been right in the middle of my road. I didn't get a good look at it in the darkness, but it was a dark gray/brown, I would guess between 35 to 50 pounds, and lumbered like a racoon as it ran. I felt like mother nature was really taking care of us, ensuring our safe arrival to the coast. I will return to that place, (maybe for a pack in camping trip?) it has a special magic.

 I was just ready to be here :) The sun was coming up when we parked the bikes, I'm going to sleep for a few hours and play in the Pacific Ocean "tomorrow."

~Amanda Terranova

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