Day 8 (Las Vegas to San Diego)

Thrusday October  14^th.  Waking up in Vegas. 

Thrusday October  14^th.  Waking up in Vegas.

When the trip began Vegas wasn’t even a thought.  I was figuring we’d be so sore and just plain tired out we’d have ditched the grand canyon and headed straight from Austin, Tx to San Diego.  Waking up on Thrusday the 15^th at Treasure Island Casino was probably the last place I thought this trip would have taken me.  Thankfully  Rachel wasn’t opposed to the idea after leaving the grand canyon (mostly at that time thinking two 300 mile days (grand canyon to vegas and vegas to san diego) was far better than the 550 miles day that would have been grand canyon to San Diego.

So we awoke to clear skies and an excitement only the possibilities of vegas can draw out of exhausted travelers.   Wondering how today could best yesterday’s amazement seen in Rachel’s eyes would prove to be a feat in itself.   However Vegas and the thought of the pawn Shop (Seen on History Channel’s Pawn stars) was enough to draw up around 8 am.  (funny just days before we’d be getting up around 6am).  Tired and sore we showered and seeked out the closest starbucks we could find.  The night before after wearily dragging ourselves to dinner we had spotted a few near the hotel.  Coffee ingested we started our day.  Where to being in vegas is never an easy task.  For those who have been you can relate for those whom can’t it’s a touch overwhelming.  If you can dream it its possible in that city.

So back to the trip.  Checkout settled at noon we packed up and dropped our luggage with the bell service (the folks I was less than pleased with the night before).  They will hold it for you however long you need them too. (makes you wonder how many people get caught up and forget about their stuff).

Unfortunately they won’t allow you keep your bike under their awning you must park what feels like a lifetime from the hotel.  So the bike was  left near two overpriced uncovered harley’s the bike  seemed to be safe.  (And thankfully remained that way when I revisited it in the morning to doublecheck),  (parking is in the garage behind the hotel)

Rachel’s heart was set on the dolphins at the Mirage and I wasn’t opposed so we grabbed the tram and off to the mirage we went.  Walking vegas strip in riding boots and riding pants (dainese so the European cut that can only look good on the bike) was a hoot.  Funny looks from some but being in vegas I’m sure we actually blended in more than sticking out in our getups.

Upon finishing up at the mirage (and baking in the Nevada desert sun) we drove to the pawn shop. 

 Driving in vegas during the day is cake compared to the night.  (not as bright, no where near the traffic and people are moving kinda slow).  The pawn shop is right on the strip between old vegas and new so finding the shop was easy.  We parked and ventured inside a few quick photos first.   

As you can see the pawn shop that looks so empty during filming is busy with traffic during the day.  People parading through so you can’t really see what’s for sale (however items like that international mini-bike and world championship rings stand out).  Half the shop is pawn stuff and the other half is pawn shop swag for sale.  And no, the gang was no where to be found.  Can’t blame them with the parade of people they won’t have a chance to do any real work.

So after around 15 minutes baking in the riding gear trying to find the highway we finally escaped the city.  Leaving the pawn shop I overheard someone say those folks must be dying of heat in riding gear full pants and coats.  (and they were right).  Highway travel being drab and boring I won’t go into much detail however we made it about 40 miles and stopped for gas.   I knew that the trip out of vegas would be upwards of 90 degrees from a weather report the day before but I didn’t realize how accustomed to the cooler temps we had become.  90 felt like we were boiling and the bike was fixed at 231 degrees.  Hot in the sun and hotter on top of the bike.  All vents open and the promise of San Diego we pushed on.  

Death Valley,  (Aptly named for the dry desert heat and lack of pretty much anything).  Pretty landscape in the distance but really nothing in the foreground worth mentioning.  At this point in the trip although the chatterbox wiring had emerged from my helmet I finally figured out how to keep the volume up high enough to hear over the earplugs and wind noise.  (mostly I’d heard just a light noise from the music, with cycling the cell phone volume back to highest on each song the music was actually too loud and with the chatterbox on lowest setting music filled my head.  Scary to pull a hand off while riding to fiddle with the cell phone in the clear covered tank bag but nice to be out of the whistle of the wind.  Rachel however seemed to be immune to these problems with her shoei helmet.  She could hear her music fine and even caught a few books on tape when we rode off highway.  (When I’d intercom her in I’d hear some serious whistling from the wind but imagine that was just the mouthpiece since she seemed content on riding without ear plugs.  Lisa, a friend whom recently borrowed Rachel’s helmet rides with ear plugs like me so I’m not sure how the wind noise doesn’t bother Rachel. 

Anyway the first water stop in Death Valley proved to add a little excitement when the sand on the road caused the front end to skid slightly (expected with sand on the road).  Just proceeded with caution and pulled off the exit.  And although with only 60 miles on the odometer figured a fill up would be good measure. (gas was 4.99 but I’ve gotta admit I’d have paid more if needed in this dry desert heat,  overpriced water too but then again price isn’t an object when you’re hot, dry mouthed and thirsty).

Proceeding into San Diego was rather un-eventful but we did manage to squeak out 210 miles on that one tank of gas.  From Death Valley to San Diego is like 8000 feet of elevation lost so coasting at 75 mph was easy.  Traffic was building and I did miss the open roads and light traffic most of the trip had provided.   Also the cloud of smog dampened the crystal clear night skies we had seen almost every previous night on the trip.

Finding ourselves at Pacific Beach at 9pm was a nice addition.  I’ll add a picture but again the concept is lost over my camera skills and really lack of good location for the photo. 

We made our way to a friends for storage of the bike and he was kind enough to give up his bed for us for the night.  The bike was  parked in his gated underground garage with designated bike parking and for the first night in the trip I felt like the bike was perfectly safe and snug for the night and the impeding weekend Rachel and I would be traveling back home.

Tired and sore, glad to be out west and rushed to be flying out in the morning the trip was a complete success.  Yes, of course there are things I’d do differently but hopefully the ride Back east will realize those ideas in action.