Day 100. In my unofficial rule book I’m officially hardcore. On day five I said “Five days in. That would sound so hard-core if it were a hundred days in.” Well here I am, one hundred days on the road. What have I got out of it to this point. For sure I’ve had a ton of fun and without a doubt it has been the most interesting period of my life. It has not been easy. Some days wizz by magically, like day 99, and some days are nothing but trouble like day 39. All in all I feel incredibly lucky to have made it this far. I’ve gained a new respect for the beauty and diversity of our great country and its people and have gained a greater appreciation for my family. I love the thought that I had the chance to be a quasi tour guide for people who keep up with my journey. Some of them have traveled more than me and some have hardly traveled at all. I’m sure glad to get out of my comfort zone and become increasingly comfortable with life being not so structured and boring. How long can I go on like this? The money will decide that. (Does that make me crazy since I just asked a question and answered myself?) I know that mentally and physically I could go on for a year, no prob. That’s the goal and only time will tell.
I started the landmark day with a battle with the worlds slowest wi-fi at a McDonalds near Malibu. Uploading one picture was a nightmare and I managed to make it through 23 of them. It took ten seconds to upload one percent of one picture. That adds up to 1000 seconds per picture or 16.66 minutes per picture. To conquer this demon of a wi-fi connection, I opened up five indirectredirection.com pages at once and had all of the pages uploading pictures. It still took over an hour and a half to upload all of them. There was no way that I was going to tell the story of a day like day 99 without the help of pictures. It was just to good of a day. Eventually with my tortoise like level of patience, I made it through and had a post up. After that it was time to do what I had to do. Get these pale hillbilly feet in the biggest pond on Earth, the Pacific Ocean. Malibu was the closest place to make that happen. I rode through the beautiful, but crumbly, Malibu Canyon on the way to the beach. The previous nights rain triggered several mini landslides along the canyon road and bowling ball sized rocks were everywhere. Once in Malibu, I found a place to park the Goose and took a little nature trail down to the ocean. To my disappointment, the coast was so rocky that I had to walk another mile once I got there just to put my stompers in the water without cutting up the bottom of my feet. Finally I had them in the waves. I crossed the United States. The Goose could take me no further west. I feel like I finally accomplished something even if it was at a snail’s pace. I called my mom while standing in the freezing cold waves, snapped some pics, and trekked, barefooted, back to the Goose. By that time it was approaching rush hour and I made my mind up earlier to go to the third round of Supercross at Dodgers Stadium.
I miss riding my mx bikes so much right now that going to the supercross race would be like getting a quick fix. Monetarily it wasn’t to practical. Before I talk about the race, I have to mention the absolute atrocious prices for parking and food. The ticket to watch the show was only $27. The parking pass was $20. I thought “Twenty dollars for what?” There is nothing to see in the parking lot. The only thing going on there is a headache inducing traffic jam and they’re asking twenty bones to participate in it. Rip off city. The food is so expensive that I’d rather go hungry than pay five dollars for a small tray of fries or nine dollars for an eight inch pizza. Now that my griping is over I’ll get on with the race. Looking at the track brought back thoughts of my mindset when I was racing every weekend, hoping to someday make the big show. Back then, all I wanted was to be pro and there was no doubt in my mind. I wonder how life would be if I recovered from my broken leg, put the effort in, and didn’t let other parts of life get me sidetracked. Would I have made it? Who knows. This is where I’m at now, spectating still, and still in love with the sport. The races themselves were great. Eli Tomac cleaned house in the 250 class. He was doing a triple that no other 250 guy was doing and his fitness is unquestionable. He also had the fourth fastest lap of the day out of both the 250 and 450 classes. As for the big shots in the 450 class, the two guys that I want to win, Villopoto and Stewart, both had unfortunate nights with a crash between each of them. Chad Reed, the hard-working, persistent rider from Australia took the win over the ever consistent Ryan Dungey. Every guy that competes at that level works extremely hard and should be appreciated for their talent and dedication. It’s the only sport that I can sit and watch and really admire the athletes. Motocross is the ultimate man and machine combination sport and a great man vs. man competition. I love it for that.
Leaving Dodger Stadium was a nightmare for me. I got lost a dozen times, found myself taking completely unfamiliar roads in Los Angeles at midnight and completely confused. The traffic police give horrible directions and then send you on your way. That is the reason I got lost every time. After an hour of wandering around LA at night I finally found 101 north and made a bee-line for the safety of my tent in Malibu.