six flags, magic mountain, rollercoaster heaven, been here a few times before but get that buzz everytime i see the gigantic rides, forget alton towers, nothing will prepare you for the rides here, the park itself feels dangerous, you have to enter through metal detectors, [this is los angeles remember,lots of different coloured 'rags hanging out of back-pockets to show allegience to the 'hood and there's a lapd sheriff station just outside the entrance], once inside it's mental, home to the biggest 'coaster's in the world, 'tatsu' hanging in the air, negative g's, new ride 'terminator', surely the fastest wooden 'coaster on the planet, but, the grandaddy,most extreme ride i have ever been on must go to x2, [last photo], homies bottling it as they get near the front of queue and 'needing the restroom, back shortly', beautiful, you go up backwards, seat facing the sky, don't know how high, fighter contol through the headrest speakers, 'unidentified f16, we got to get you down fast!', seat turns through 180degrees, face down, suspended over fuck knows how high drop, then, 'let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor..........' yeeeeeefuckkkkkinggggghaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
california is huge, many long hours of driving but never boring, there's always something to look at, my tips are, rent the biggest, baddest fucking motor you can, don't worry about gas consumption, it's nothing compared to the uk, tune into different radio stations on a regular basis, from the classic rock, soul, r+b, dance and talk shows, brilliant taste of the usa, remember that you have to pay for your fuel before you pump it, the green hose is diesel, the black hose is unleaded, you can turn right on a red light if it's safe to do, [don't worry, you will get someone standing on their horn behind you if you don't turn so you soon get in the habit], you can undertake and no-one minds, buy decent sunglasses, [watch out for the carts in the shopping malls and street vendors, stick to outlets and chains like 'sunglasses hut' so you get the real deal,], food and gas isn't always as available as you would think, fine in the cities but there are a lot of miles between some destinations and finally, don't be afraid to turn off the beaten track and explore, there are some great places to see and some cool people to meet
so, after our near death experience, we head south again to the danish town of solvang in the santa ynez valley, i read about the motorcycle museum in an old copy of 'classic racer' magazine and iv'e wanted to see it ever since, it houses the biggest collection of privately owned racing bikes in the world, i park up and walk to the old moss bros store that houses the collection, to my disapointment i read the notice on the door, 'open saturday and sunday', bummer, i peer through the windows looking at the treasure's inside, 'you want to look at the bikes man?' , 'too right mate' i reply, 'see the guy down there sweeping the leaves?', tell him to open up for you', 'no problem man, give me two minutes to get my keys', he opens up for me and tells me to give him a shout when i'm done, trish and the kids wander off for a look around the town and i'm left alone amongst the most incredible collection of racing exotica i have ever seen in one place, the bikes are packed in so tight that i'm struggling to get photo's, bonneville salt flat racer vincent, honda six hailwood 250 tt racer, mv triple, villa four cylinder two-stroke, cz gp bike, gilera dohc, harley xr750 with the shoe on the seat, mondial, jawa and the incredible moto-guzzi v8, i'm sorry the photo's don't do this place justice, i just stood in awe at these machines, if you have any interest in motorcycles make sure you pay a visit.
it's a great night in shell beach, jess, jack and me walk down to the beach to watch the sunset, the waves are 3 to 4ft high, it's cloudy but a mild 59 degrees, we stop to take a photo, i'm aware of a chinking noise, almost like a wind-chime,we walk to the ocean and walk along the shoreline, half way down the beach we stop and look out over the sea, we walk back towards the access stairs to the cliff-top, jack stops to tie his shoe lace and we walk 5-6 metres past the stair to look at the rockpools, i hear the 'wind-chime' sound again and we turn around, there's a deep rumbling noise, and a massive section of the cliff collapses in front of us, the cliff face must be 30 metres high and it's now spread all over the beach where we were just standing, we can't comprehend what has just happened in front of us, these cliff's have stood there against the elements for thousands of years and we just happen to be strolling down the beach when they decide to give it large, the photo's don't really show the size of the fall, check out the picture of the couple walking past it, they heard the sound and were almost as shocked as us when they saw it especially when we told them what had just happened, spooky or what?
after five great days in san francisco we get itchy feet so it's time to move on, we head south in search of some sunshine, down the pacific coast highway one, fifty miles later we hit santa cruz, setting for the legendary 'lost boys' film, [john travolta wore one of the local college santa cruz banana slug t-shirts in pulp fiction], santa cruz is bathed in sunshine,we walk onto the pier and watch the sealions basking, stroll along the boardwalk through the fun-fair and look at the old wooden rollercoaster that featured in the film, life wouldn't be complete without a quick deep fried cheesecake tortilla and then back on the road, we soon lose the nice weather and visibility drops to twenty feet as the freeway drops down to two-lane blacktop, i pass a great roadsign, 'bends for the next 97 miles', the road is brilliant, light traffic and it must be amazing on a bike, mrs b keeps uttering oaths as she catches a glimpse of the drop below, down through the giant redwoods and we climb hundreds of feet on the road around the coast of big sur, 200 miles later and i'm ready for a break, we check into a hotel in shell beach near san luis obisbo, quick shower and still time for a quick walk on the beach, mrs b decides to stay put and sort out her e-mails while me and the kids have a walk, little do we know what is about to happen.......................................................
back into s.f. for the night tour of alcatraz, a 15 minute ferry ride, nothing can prepare you for what you are going to see and experience, the first thing you see is the shower block where new prisoners arrived, showered and were issued with bedding and uniform, they were then paraded naked down the three-storey cell blocks, the cells are tiny, if you stretch out your arm's you can touch each wall, the atmosphere is totally oppressive, i felt very uncomfortable here, so much hatred and remorse but fascinating at the same time, the men who served time here were the baddest of the bad ,but ,the harsh conditions and lack of humanity pervade the place.
short drive into s.f., head north over golden gate bridge towards oakland, feel guilty about being so close to meeting up with lucas from http://www.murdercycleblog.com/, we park up, walk back over the bridge towards s.f., the bridge is an amazing feat of engineering, as you walk across you can see the city in the distance, alcatraz island looks foreboding in the middle of the bay but what really strikes home is the fact that this is the number one place in the usa to commit suicide, it's 250 feet down, you hit the water at 76mph and at that speed the water takes on the consistency of concrete ,
