Just when you think this tour can't get any better along comes a day like today. On the face of it, leaving the bright lights and various attractions of Vegas behind was always going be a downer and Lone Pine didn't promise much but as we have discovered several times so far it's how you get there that counts. None of us will ever forget the ride through Death Valley which must surely be one of the most beautiful places anywhere and even pushes Grand Canyon into a close second. A hundred mile stretch of road from Beatty (the archetypal Hill Billy American small town where people seem to spend an unnatural amount of time with their sisters) to Lone Pine is one of the best motorcycle rides you could ever do. Finding fast, empty, perfectly maintained roads in such a place of extreme weather again puts the cobbled dirt tracks we call roads in the UK to shame. The smiles on all our faces when we arrived at Lone Pine said it all. I offer further gratitude to the ladies and gentlemen of the California Highway Patrol who haven't taken the slightest interest in our activities to date. Even Neil (our very own 'Captain Slow') hit 120 today.
Lone Pine, as the name sounds, is not a big place but we do have a theory that if the beds are bug free, there is at least one bar in town and the locals don't take Andy's 'sense of humour' too much the wrong way, then we can have a good time. The town is set in the valley overlooked by Mount Whitney which provides a spectacular backdrop.
An evening spent in Jakes's Bar playing an odd game that can only be described as table top curling was topped off later in the evening when our very own twinkle toes Digger showed the locals how to line dance. It was legendary as Digger now is to the people of Lone Pine.
Wednesday we ride to the unknown quantity of Visalia but I have given up prejudging anywhere. Nowhere has let us down on this trip and, hangovers permitting, we'll be on the bikes at 10am.
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