• What have I learned? – That the Oregon BDR has sand… I hate riding in sand…
• Listening to – This Years Model – Elvis Costello
• Reading – In the Cold dark Ground – Stuart MacBride

For those who missed Long Way Down, or saw it and did not think “riding big motorbikes to dumb places looks fun” you can probably skip most of this.

There is an organization called Backcountry Discovery Routes (BDR), every year they define a route, publish maps and GPS tracks, and then release a movie about the new route. This year the new route is the Oregon BDR.

That’s how I found out about them. A friend, LE, invited me go watch the film in Shoreline at a theater on winter evening a few years ago. It was either New Mexico or Idaho, I don’t recall. It was a fun film, dozens of big BMW and KTM adventure bikes parked outside, and the people who made the film were there to answer questions afterwards. A fun evening out.

A short primer, a BDR is a mostly off-road track through a state. Anywhere up to 6 or 7 days long. They have found the scenic route, and include the logistics of places to camp (organized or wild), get petrol, and food. They are well thought out and created by people who love doing this.

Now, most of a decade later, I have one of those big BMW bikes, and it’s not my first adventure bike. I’ve done most of Seattle showings of the film when a new route is released since then. The Oregon release will be the 12^th BDR published. With the current routes you can travel from the Mexican border to Canada better than 90% on dirt roads.

As these things often do, it started off with a simple text a friend sent to a group of us “let’s go do something fun this summer, who’s in?” And the ideas have flown thick and fast since then, but doing a BDR from end to end keeps coming up. Utah, Colorado, Oregon and Idaho have all been thrown out

I don’t particularly enjoy camping, but I do it, mostly because it’s a practical and relatively cheap way to spend time exploring. And some of my friends really love it, and I like hanging out with them and going to the places they go.

I’ve not done a whole BDR in one shot, I’ve done parts of 5. For Washington I’m missing the short section between Rimrock and Ellensburg to fully tick that one off. Maybe I’ll take care of that over a weekend this summer.

Back to the “lets go do…” text, the soon to be published Oregon BDR is one option. It’s relatively close, snow tends to disappear earlier in the year than other routes, and it’s a beautiful state. This week the trailer for the route was published, and it’s got sand. Quite a bit of sand.

My BMW weighs a little over 600 pounds with a tank of gas. By the time it’s loaded up with all my stuff probably closer to 700. That is a lot of bike in the sand, even with the correct tires. Last year riding parts of a BDR through Death Valley and into Nevada I got better at sand, but also better at tucking and rolling as I came off when the bike digs down into the soft stuff.

So maybe the Oregon BDR is on the cards, but Utah looks fun, and I’d love to see more of Idaho and Northern Nevada. Who know what shape the trip takes, I’m excited to go out and play, enjoy the challenge and have fun with friends, even if it is camping…

• What have I learned? – That bad cars are still made
• Listening to – When I was cruel – Elvis Costello
• Reading – I Belong Here: A Journey Along the Backbone of Britain – Anita Sethi

I belong here is a great read, I finished over a few nights when I was struggling to sleep this week. It’s a wonderful story with a rough start: the author was racially attacked in northern England and told to go back to her home. Only she was home, she was British.

She sent out for a walk, to see some of the place she came from. To get away from the closeness of the attack and experience the wide expanse of the Pennine national park. She takes this moment of hatred, goes back to where she comes from and shares with us a journey through along the Pennine way.

It is a wonderful tribute to the amazing place, she turned oppression into vulnerability, and then into power. Wonderfully written and one of my favorite books for a while. Can’t recommend this one highly enough.  

I’ve only seem Elvis Costello live once (The empire in shepherds Bush I think, in 93 or 94), but really enjoy a lot of his stuff. When I was Cruel is probably not one of his classics, but stands the test of time well. The anger of the Get Happy!!! and This Year’s Model (my favorite Costello and the Attractions record) has gone, replaced by, well, middle age and everything that comes with it.

Costello is a contemporary of people like Toyah, Joe Strummer, Edwyn Collins (Rip It Up is excellent) and Morrissey. Angry people that gave punk so much energy, and makes it relevant 40+ years later. I think Costello matured better and stayed relevant for longer than pretty much anyone else. Maybe Paul Weller and his transition from the Jam to the Style Council, and again into his solo stuff also gets a mention here.

I think with a couple of standouts. For me Alibi and the title track are both excellent, and while there are a few misses, the whole album is very listenable and worth your time.

As for the bad cars… My car got hit on I-5 a few weeks ago, a truck did not see me and turned into me. Lots of ugly bodywork damage, the Miata came off worse of the two, but otherwise OK. Finally went into the shop for repairs this week and I got a Chevrolet Spark as a rental.

I’ve maintained for a while no one makes a bad car any more, even poor cars are acceptable. I was wrong, this car is horrible. It’s hard to call what happens above 50 miles per hour as actual “acceleration”, it’s more gently gathering speed. I get it’s not designed as a freeway cruiser, but it feels actively dangerous if you venture into the inside lanes. Thankfully I only have it for another week.

Have a wonderful week.

• What have I learned? – How to do a Monte Carlo Analysis in Excel (slow day at work)
• Listening to – Holy Bible – Manic Street Preachers
• Reading – Iceland Serow Saga – Helen Lloyd

I’m fairly sure Holy Bible was the first Manic Street Preachers album I owned. It was a move away from their early material into a harder, more socially conscious time, also a time of huge turmoil within the band, which as an occasional NME reader had no idea about at the time.

Richey Edwards, the guitarist and writer with the band, disappeared in early 1995. Immensely talented, but almost inevitably he was a troubled man, self-harmed, suffered from anorexia and had severe depression, and wrote most of the Holy Bible album. It was never discovered what happened to Richey, if he committed suicide his body was never found.

It’s a brutal album, very intense, but almost 30 years later I think it’s stood the test of time better than most of it’s contemporaries. There is no uplifting themes, it’s about self-loathing, end of the world, mentions the holocaust, the death penalty and dysfunction.

And it’s brilliant. This is a band changing direction, dealing with success and reflecting their reality of the mid 90’s. I’ve never seen the Manics live, but have enjoyed their work for all these years, and I believe it is a great album, and testament to Richey Edwards talent.

A little more uplifting is Helen Lloyds book about motorcycling around Iceland for a couple of months. Wonderfully written, tremendously descriptive and contains the reality of travel. It’s is full of tremendous highs, and does not shy away from the low points that any long trip has. Throughout the trip she shows determination to see what’s around the bend, even though her bike is having issues.

Someday I’ll following in her footsteps, but for now appreciating Helen sharing her journey with me will have to do.

Happy New Year

• What have I learned? – The Oregon Coast is stunning in the winter
• Listening to – Sounds of the Written Word, Eva Plays dead
• Reading – Cold Dark Ground, by Stuart MacBride

This week was spent on the Oregon coast, just outside Depoe Bay. I first rode them length of the Oregon coast a few years ago on a Motorbike trip to Napa and eventually Yosemite National Park. And was blown away by how magnificent the scenery is, why did no one tell me how awesome it was?

There were brave (foolhardy?) people surfing in December, the waves were impressive. How you decide that today I’m pulling on a dry suit and spending the day catching waves, when it is just above freezing is beyond me.

Surfing is fun, I got to the just about standing up stage in Hawaii a few years ago, and really enjoyed it. But not that much, I’ve been to races where people were airlifted to hospital with hypothermia, and I promise no one was having much fun that night.

In short, Hawaii surfing = awesome, Oregon in December surfing = really, really enjoy being cold.  

A little trashy reading this week. If you enjoy a little bloody mystery and are not familiar with the Logan McRae books by Stuart MacBride you are missing out. They are relatively straightforward procedurals, but told from the point of view of Watson, rather than Holmes. Logan McRae works for a series on Inspectors, most memorably Roberta Steel and her wonderful use of language.

Great books, fun reads and just what I needed.

One last thing, if you are not aware of the annual twitter treat of #duvetknowitschristmas, it’s worth 10 minutes to go have a look.

Have an amazing Christmas.

• What have I learned? – The I worked just a few houses away from where HG Wells wrote War of the worlds
• Listening to – Live ’85 – The Alarm
• Reading – Still working through Time to Teach: A History of the Southern Civil Rights by Julian Bond

Still working my way through the Julian Bond’s Time to Teach. Still a great read, detailed, and does not pull punches, both within the civil rights movement, and the south in general. Let’s be clear, the south and organizations like the “White Citizens Council” are never going to look good, and quite frankly they should not.

Currently learning about the run up to the passing of the 1965 Civil Rights act. Civil Rights organizations were pushing for voting rights. This led to riots and protests across the south, but specifically in Alabama and the city of Selma. There the county sheriff used the police force to stop African Americans from registering to vote, with violence if necessary.

In January and February of 1965 Selma saw the contrasting approaches of non-violence pushed by MLK, and a few days later an explicit call to arms by Malcom X. The book claims that Malcom X’s language was more extreme in the hope of making MLK seems more reasonable, and to get the support of whites.

This led to the Selma to Montgomery marches, the first one ended in what became known as bloody Sunday as marchers were hit my teargas and charged by police horses. Bond felt that the pictures that were beamed into houses across the country that night from Selma let to President Johnston addressing a joint session of Congress a couple of weeks later, and directly asking for voting right legislation. This led to the Voting Rights Act being passed that August.

Riveting read, and I really can’t recommend it enough.

In 1986 (also within living memory) I went to Wembley to see Freddie Mercury and Queen absolutely dominate. It was my first huge stadium concert and everyone else I’ve ever seen has been compared to that sunny day at Wembley.

One of the support bands were The Alarm, I was vaguely aware of a couple of their songs (68 Guns was one), but that was about it. The opening band was INXS playing one their first British gigs, and they walked off the stage after Michael Hutchins got hit by an apple. They were not very good.

Then the Alarm came on and rocked, I’ve never found a bootleg of The Alarm that day, but the short set they played was really good. The Alarm Live ‘85 was recorded the previous fall in Boston and was the same line up that we saw at Wembley that day. Good live album, not overly remixed and shows a band at the top of their form. Songs come from Declaration and Strength albums, I think their strongest studio work, and the crowd is clearly having a great evening.  

• What have I learned? – That England are a really good side, but still lost to the French.
• Listening to – ÷ – Ed Sheeran (kinda late to this party)
• Reading – Time to Teach: A History of the Southern Civil Rights by Julian Bond

So the civil rights movement is not something taught in UK schools, or not a school I went too anyway. I felt I should know more about it and picked up Julian bond’s rather hefty tome Time to Teach. It’s based on his civil rights lectures at the university of Virginia.

Mr Bond was in the middle of the US civil rights movement in the 60’s as an organizer and activist, served in the Georgia State house and senate, and was the first president of the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) who prosecute and catalogue hate groups. In short a very influential man who was in the center of things, made enemies and made a difference.

The book is a collection of his lecture notes and is very through, and is not going to be a quick read. The book is fascinating, it’s a detailed look into a part of history I never knew that much about. Graphic in places, certainly shocking and not always an easy read. I’m still working my way through the early part of the movement, the details of the tensions within the movement are clearly laid out. This was a lot of people who saw different ways to achieve in equality and integration they wanted, from individual activists to President Johnson. Certainly not a homogenous group of people with a central leader.

So far, a great, if occasionally difficult read.

England’s world cup is over, and they were beat by what I’ve thought from the start as the best side in the tournament, even if France did not play at their best today. It was close, over the last 3 weeks England have generally been excellent, technical and at times even imaginative (something I’ve never called England before).

Today England needed everything to come together, after all France are the world champions, but once again it’s a hard luck story of what could have been. Kane skyed a penalty, Rashford was close, Saka was fantastic and his movement was tough for France to follow.

As ever, it’s the hope that kills you. This is a good England side, and looking forward is all you can do. Euro 2024 qualifying starts in 3 months.

• What have I learned? – That Kauai-Metal is indeed a thing.
• Listening to – Tango in the Night – Fleetwood Mac
• Reading – Heart of Dartness by Ned Boulting

With the way time seems to be accelerating I was rather surprised to see it’s already December, seriously when did that happen?

I only got to see Christine McVie and Fleetwood Mac play once, a cool evening in 1990 supporting the Behind the Mask album. I don’t think many people will describe it as a Fleetwood Mac classic. If someone were to say Tango in the Night (released almost 25 years ago…) was the last good one, I’d probably nod along in agreement.

I think it’s fair to say it is a band with complex, perhaps even unstable, relationships, and that led to ever changing lineups from tour to tour. That night at Wembley Stevie Nicks was front and center, but no Lindsay Buckingham to play off of. Mick Fleetwood was there, along with John and Christine McVie.

Buckingham was replaced by Rick Vito, and Billy Burnette. They were part of the previous tour, and the sessions that led to Behind the Mask. At the time Rolling Stone joked that it took both Vito and Burnette to fill Linsey Buckingham’s shoes.

The concert itself has largely faded in my memory at this point, I’d even forgotten Jethro Tull, and Hall and Oats were the warm up acts, until I found the setlist online.

One thing I’d not forgotten is the night was closed with a couple of what are still some of my favorite Fleetwood Mac numbers, Don’t Stop and Songbird. Both written by Christine McVie, she was a brilliant songwriter, and was part of my early exploration into music.

To continue the theme of nostalgia is the Ned Boulting book Into the Heart of Dart-ness. Darts was a big TV sport growing up in the UK, and despite the infighting is still a big deal. This book looks at the sport, how it’s evolved and revisits some household names from my youth.

Like the rest of Ned Boulting’s books this is a fun read, if darts are not your thing On the Road Bike is another good one I really enjoyed.

Have a great week.

• What have I learned? – That Kauai-Metal is a thing.
• Listening to – Japanese band Lovebites live album: Heavy  Metal never Dies
• Reading – Can I have my ball back by Richard Herring

Last month went to see Japanese all-girl heavy metal group Band Maid, and quite frankly they were fantastic. Show was a sell out, and they were good and it was a really fun concert. They have a unique aesthetic and showed they are immensely talented musicians.

A couple of them met while working in a maid café in Tokyo, places I was aware of, but like a lot of Japanese culture not really on the radar of visitors and expats there. While I love Japan and have spent a lot of time there, I know I will never get to even scratch the surface of Japanese society, it is a very closed culture in that way. It’s one of my favorite places to visit, very alien, but not difficult to get around.

Back to Band Maid, they were right out of the Maiden, Saxon and Motorhead mold and seemed to be influenced by new wave of British heavy metal (NWoBHM) from the 80’s. In other words music that is at the heart of my teenage years. They ticked all the boxes: Big technical guitars, solid bass and talented drummer holding it together. Add a really diverse crowd that was really into the music. I figured we’d be on the older end of the crowd, and we were right in the demographic.

Great concert, and now I’m onto a journey into Japanese rock. I knew a little, saw Loudness once at Hammersmith, that was really about it.

As for my read this week, no one is going to accuse Richard Herrings humour of being deep, but comedy does not need to be deep to make it’s point. One of RHs strength is making light of the dark and this is right there. Looking at mortality is well trodden ground, both in his books and live shows. I enjoyed it, funny in places, thoughtful in others and just the right amount of fecal based humour you’d expect.

Have a wonderful week.

When doing my turn on the night shift, sitting up and reading Douglas Adams to a comatose Dad through the night, I got to have some of the day to myself until it was time to relive my brother in the late afternoon. Sleeping, at least consistently, rarely felt like an option, so I would visit friends and find excuses not to be hanging out around the house.

One of these lost days I met an old friend in Andover, maybe an hour from Guildford, and we decided to kill an hour by going to Stonehenge. I’d been to Stonehenge once, on a school trip, and I have a earlier, vague recollection of driving past as a kid on the way to somewhere on a family vacation. I recall it being almost in the middle of a junction of two roads, with a rather drab visitor centre that you stepped out of and there, with no drama whatsoever, was the fence that kept parties of school kids safely away from the stones themselves.

I recall it all being rather anticlimactic and not nearly as much fun as exploring a castle, or where ever else the teachers desperate for a day out of the classroom took classes of 12 year olds for history fieldtrips.

It is a little embarrassing to admit, but I spent a few months in my late teens living literally 10 minutes away from Stonehenge in Amesbury. I was sent to RAF Boscombe Down for some training as an apprentice, I do not recall exactly for what now. Not once only did I not visit Stonehenge, I’m not even sure I was aware it was so close by.

So many years later I find myself following signs for Stonehenge and it’s not as I remember. There is a new visitor centre, with engaging exhibits, full size replica stones and stone age houses outside. It is quite wonderful and so far from the dull, uninviting place I remembered from all those years eariler.

The one thing you cannot see from the visitor centre is Stonehenge itself, that’s on the other side of a ridge. It was a fine autumn day and we decided to take the 20-minute walk across Salisbury Plain to the stones, rather than the bus.

As you crest the ridge and emerge from the trees the stones themselves come into view. It really is beautiful, and as you get closer the view becomes increasingly impressive. Not just that it was built 4500 years ago, or at the industry and effort it took to quarry and move 350 ton stones 180 miles, but that the very idea of the place. I’d really like to have heard that discussion “OK lads, I’ve got an idea… We go to Wales and quarry some rocks, and then… No quite big rocks…”

Yes the A303 runs very close, and that takes away from the setting a little, but it is now presented in a style far more worthy of such an extraordinary place.

As a quick aside, there is a full size replica of Stonehenge at Maryhill in Washington. We’ve been there once or twice on the Oregon Trail Rally and Maryhill Hillclimb. The replica was built by Sam Hill as a memorial to local soldiers killed in the First World War. He also commissioned the Peace Arch at the Blaine border crossing and paced the first road in the Pacific Northwest, the Maryhill Loops road where the annual hillclimb is run.

There is something that happens when you throw a leg over a motorbike, it’s difficult to explain, but you know it when it happens. It’s a deep familiarity with the idea of adventure, and quite simply: you either get it and feel forced to go out and play, or it just passes you by.

It can be faint, almost imperceptible, but when you back a motorbike out of the garage you feel it staring to kick a little, letting you know it’s time to ride. It may be too faint to be understood, but somehow you know you are part of a millennia old tradition, that you are following in the footsteps of millions who set out on a journey to discover what is over the next ridge. And it’s exciting, almost intoxicating, and there is no question that the need for discovery is important, vital even, and not at a personal level, but as a species.

3200 miles later as I pull back into the same driveway I’d left three weeks earlier, my thoughts are not focused on the mundane, but the excitement of where two wheels will take me next time I leave the driveway on two wheels.