I am writing this blog sitting in front of an antique fan in a room without a light – luckily I have my tent light which is a ripper.
I am in a small town called Gridley which is about 100klms north of Sacramento. The outside temperature is still 36 degrees – I had booked this “basic” Airbnb a couple of days ago. I have to make my way up north again to get to the outdoor Motocross in 2 weeks time being held in Washougal, Washington State. Instead of going back the same way I came down I thought it would be better to go east and then north. I knew it would be hot so no surprise although I did check the temp on the coast and it was nearly 20 degrees cooler. Guess which way I am going tomorrow? North-West back to the cool coast.
As much as I love Chinese tv it was time to pack up go this morning. Off to an early start because of the heat and I made reasonably good time. I wish I had these for fans in my room right now;
I also had to take a picture of this;
If only it was in September as I know that Mick and Jack would be right into going to it. I try and go thru as many of the smaller towns as I can (ones close to the main road that I am on) and see a few cars including this old girl;
I drive only just around the corner and see this magnificent 1967 GT Mustang that was absolutely immaculate. I had to take a couple of photos and I spoke to the garage guy who was servicing it. He reckons that the asking price can be anything up to $40,000+ USD but in reality they go for around $25,000+.;
Also at the same garage was this one;
I continue on and its time for a rest so I call into the Lodi Police Station – they are a really good bunch and end up myself and 2 local uniform having a photo with Fred. They tell me they are going to upload it onto their facebook page (Fred just keeps getting more famous). Consistent to what I am told in other towns is that they have a big Hispanic gang problem between the North and South crews. The joke is that the North crew is in the South and vice versa. Obviously they can’t read a compass. Lodi is actually up the road from Stockton and they tell me how bad of a place Stockton is re gangs. I am starting to get the message how easy it is to get caught out when you don’t know a place.
I am about to head out of town when I see a young woman pull up in this rig and I had to take a photo – she was about 5′ tall and 45kg – I thought she was going to need an emergency shute slide to get out of it;
By now its getting warm but not too bad so I put my head down and get to Gridley. I arrive at the Airbnb and seriously I thought about not stopping. It was advertised as basic accommodation suitable for the overnight traveler. The host meets me at the door and he is over 6′ tall, shaven head, heavily tattooed and all that is missing is his cell number. I go thru the front door that at some stage has been kicked off its hinges (SWAT) and get shown to my room. The room is nearly clean, single bed, no light, window (no screen) and an old fan. Good grief. Lets just say the google map photo of house must have been taken when his wife was home and he was in the can!
Speaking of wife, there is also a Mexican girlfriend (with crazy tattoos) that is in a bikini strutting around and seriously I think that I would look better in it. Its so bad that when I go out to bring my gear in off Fred a car goes by and I nearly duck thinking its a drive by.
The day cannot get any more crazy so I go down to the local supermarket to get tea. By now I have had an ice cold shower and drank a gallon of water so I am far more positive about my situation. I park Fred outside the supermarket entrance and I immediately hear a loud rooster crowing – I think its a novelty car horn and turn around to see which car it came from – nothing. Next thing Fred and I are being attacked by a real %$#$%$ rooster;
I resist the urge to take it all out on the rooster (I realise that I am the only person in America unarmed) and go into the supermarket. At the checkout I ask about the rooster and I am told its the stores pet. Pet? Are you for ^%$##@ real lady? I tell her it would look far better crumbed on a plate and if it tries to peck me again I will do it for free.
I go back to Fred and the rooster keeps his distance. I make way back to the ghetto. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.