I never thought I'd say this but we've been feeling a bit 'treed out'. Since Canada we've seen nothing but trees, EVERYWHERE. We're ready for a change of scene and not being ones to do things by halves Death Valley seemed like a place that would be that change. We've ridden through a few desert areas on this trip and love them. Every desert has its own character and mood and the more time we spend in them the more we appreciate them. In Sequoia NP we met Mark, a lone biker from New Mexico, taking some time off work to ride around the country and have a break. Over a few coffees we got to know each other and for a day or so leapfrogged each other across California. At Freeman junction there's an historical marker. It reads: "In 1834 explorer Joseph R. Walker passed this junction of Indian trails after discovering nearby Walker Pass. Death Valley 49ER Parties here diverged West and South enroute to the California Gold Fields. Later this became a junction point where the Bandito Tiburcio Vesquez preyed on stages and freighters traveling between the Kern River Mines and Los Angeles and the mines of Bodie and the Panamints." I read the diaries of Joseph Walker a few years ago and looked forward to covering some of the ground the great man did all those years ago. At the historical marker we found Mark waiting for us to say our final goodbyes. His parting words were "Don't forget you're the strangers here. Its rough country so be careful. Oh, and watch for the scorpions!" On that note we parted and headed for Death Valley. That night we wild camped out in the desert using grit to wash our pots and pans to conserve our water as we had so many times in Mexico. The scorpions had disappeared with the rocks we moved to pitch our tent and the wind had dropped to leave a still evening. We watched the sun go down over the pinnacles and listened to absolutely nothing. As we sat in our camp-light a coyote circled us looking for scraps of food, always staying on the edge of the light and passing back and forth. Coyotes send out scouts to look for prey or carrion and while one is fine a pack can be a problem, so while we don't like doing it a few well aimed rocks gave him the message to look elsewhere.

The following morning we were up with the sun to get on the road before the heat hit us. By 6:30 we were looking down on Death Valley. To be honest there are many desert areas we've been to that are every bit as beautiful, the difference here is its just lower than other areas making it hotter. This is pretty much the coolest time of year to go through Death Valley and the temperature was in the comfortable upper 80's so we weren't exactly taking a risk crossing it. On this occasion we were merely riding across to get to Las Vegas. In a week or two well go back and spend a few days there exploring.

We'd arrange to meet 3 mad Germans in Vegas. Martin, Katja and Frank. We met in Revelestoke, BC and were heading the same way so Las Vegas was the rondevue for a party. Las Vegas is exactly what we expected. Mad and larger than life. We got there a day early so decided to get in a hotel and wash off the desert dust. Walking into the Imperial on the main Strip we turned a few heads looking more like prospectors than punters. It made a good photo though. The receptionist put us in the cheapest room without asking and we soon transformed ourselves into prospective gamblers. We painted the town red gambling not a cent. I'm proud to say we didn't feed a single machine or place a single bet. Vegas was not going to get richer off us! Martin, Katja and Frank were camping within spitting distance of the Hoover Dam so once again we changed back into Travelers aka Mr. Ben and rode off in search of them. It was good meeting up with them, spending the day and that evening swapping stories and catching up. The following morning we had a date with the Las Vegas Desert Riders Motorcycle Club and rode back into Vegas in convoy. We spent the day riding with the Desert Riders being shown around the sites of Vegas and Nevada. Straight roads and gold mines were the order of the day. Biking country it ain't. The party we'd organised consisted of the following day been taken up by oil changes and fitting new tires. Over a beer or two we speculated about the idea of simply hiring a few Las Vegas prostitutes to do the oil changes for us while naked. Unfortunately they were well beyond our budget though.

Having swapped information and maps we all set off with newly oiled bikes on day 4 of our Vegas experience. Martin, Katja and Frank to Sequoia, us to the Grand Canyon. It's a long days ride to the Grand Canyon and the stiff stiff Southerly wind made the riding even harder. However, here we are. Yesterday was changeable, Today its just plain changed. From the Death Valley heat were now in the depths of winter. In the time I've taken to write this an inch of snow has fallen. Luckily there was a break in the weather for an hour or two yesterday and we got to see the South Rim of the canyon. Today its shrouded in mist and we'd only know we were at the Grand Canyon if we fell of the edge, which wouldn't be too difficult. Still, we're here and it feels good to be again in a spectacular place. Tomorrow should be better and perhaps we can make the most of it. If not its on to Bryce and Arches National Parks. (Here's thinking of you Mrs Fiona Moore!) Thank you Countryside Agency and the tax payer at large for our National Parks Pass. We're making the most of it.