11th September 2010

I awoke on Saturday before the alarm had the chance to go off. We packed up quickly and were soon ready to leave. We talked to some Belgians before we pulled away. They were also away for a 3 week motorcycling holiday on Harleys. His English was better than my French but after a few exchanged experiences we went on our way. We were on the road by 08:15.
We travelled via Laughlin then stopped for a McD's breakfast and coffee at Searchlight. It was 09:13. We rode from there to Nipton then blasted down the I-15 to Baker. I navigated to the Baker post office but, as it was a Saturday, it was closed. Postcards for the kiddies and Janey would have to wait until Monday. I will probably beat the cards back home. We had a coke in Baker's Burger King at 11:00 and filled up with fuel at an expensive Shell gas station.

Mojave Desert

From Baker we began our journey through the Mojave desert on highway 127. I slowed down to shout to Bill that, if I lost him, the next turn was left in 106 miles. Although the I-15 didn't feel that hot, by the time we were a few miles into the desert, the temperature was above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The desert was rather boring but at least we can say we have been there and done it. We decided not to go into Death Valley as we were plenty hot enough already.

Bill Makes Friends In Shoshone

We stopped at Shoshone, which was just past the halfway mark in our 106 mile trek across the Mojave. There we visited the Crow Bar saloon. We were both very hot. Bill had a lemonade and I had a root beer float (yum). After cooling off in the Crow Bar, we visited the souvenir shop and bought a chocolate bar each and some water. I used the museum wifi to update my Facebook status. From this point on, I became incommunicado as both wifi and phone signal became non-existent, even at our destination of Motel 6 in Beatty, Nevada. It was interesting to note that the gas station in Shoshone was taking advantage of its remote location by charging $4.79 a gallon for gas. That's at least a dollar and fifty cents more expensive than the next most expensive that I have seen. We did not buy fuel there.

We continued on the 127 and finished our desert crossing. We stopped at a rest area where the 127 ends and then popped across the road to the gas station "Nevada Joes" to refuel. At $2.89 a gallon, it was slightly cheaper than at Shoshone. The digital green readout of the till spelled "Welcome Earthlings". At this point we were only 35 or so miles from our final destination for the night. It was only 14:19 when we refuelled so we could probably have carried on past Beatty but we had booked the room in advance.

We checked in at the Beatty Motel 6, after making sure that the Stagecoach Hotel and Casino wasn't cheaper, and then wondered what to do with ourselves. As it was early, I sat in the laundry and did our washing and drying while writing the diary for the previous day, which I had neglected to do the previous night. By the time I had finished it was 18:05 so we decided to walk into the small town of Beatty to see what culinary delights were on offer. Outside the motel we found Carlos' bike (see yesterday's entry). I left a note on his bike to tell him that the Brits were still following him. Most places in Beatty appeared to be closed. There were a couple of small bars and a saloon/sandwich bar but we didn't partake. We made our way back past the motel to the Stagecoach Hotel and Casino. It was more hotel than casino I might add. Inside the casino was Rita's Cafe, which is open 24 hours. We both ordered burgers and had plenty of coffee. After a very filling meal, we went back through the casino. I had a quick go at Blackjack and managed to turn $20 in to 35. Although I only made $12 profit as I gave the nice dealer lady $3. Still, this paid for my meal.

On our way back to the motel, we popped in to a big candy store, which also seemed to double up as an ice cream parlour and mini food market. We didn't buy anything but Bill did take a photo of me with a skeletal pirate's hook up my nose. And we hadn't even touched a drop of alcohol.

Just before we reentered the motel, I paused to take a photo of what appeared to be a Tarantula, which had parked up just past the door. It really was the biggest spider that I have ever seen in the flesh. Carlos had also responded to my note by leaving his business card on my bike; requesting that I drop him a line. Back in our room, I sat and wrote the diary, while some crap romantic comedy film played on HBO.
The bike mileage read 48148, which means that we travelled 293 miles on this day.