I was enjoying Flagstaff but it was time to move on. Though at least it was finally time to ease back on the throttle and take it easy. The big miles of the trip that I’d clocked up so far weren’t needed anymore. I had almost reached California and I still had 4 days to go. The plan was to get across the border into California by the end of today. This meant crossing central and southern Arizona and thankfully leaving Rt66 again.

Arizona surprised me even further. I took the road to Sedona, which took me along the red rock valley which was beautiful, very green, very alpine. Sedona is a very smart community and rarely for America doesn't allow roadside signage. Even the McDonalds was limited to a discrete blue M on its wall. All very smart. I continued through towns called Cottonwood, Jerome, Prescott. All nice places. Arizona has impressed me and couldn't be more different from the scruffiness of Utah.

I eventually dropped back down to flat desert and stopped for lunch in the small town of Wickenburg, which didn't seem to have changed much since they first built the railway through here. A welcome burrito underneath a shady tree was what I needed to keep me going. I was into serious weather now – high 30’s and each ride was a sweating dash to the next bit of shade.

I was now in classic southern Arizona, wide desert, big cacti, but still “smarter” than a lot of other desert I’d been through before. Huge gates announced distant ranches, and each little community seemed very nice. There were some ghost towns too as this route was bypassed by the I10 a few decades back. The ghost towns are part of the appeal. There's little nostalgia in America. They move on. The land isn't needed, so the old buildings are just left to disintegrate, and that probably takes a long time in a desert climate. We just don't have this in the UK.

The ride was long and straight through what seemed like a pocket of hot, moist air. All the vents on the bike were open but they didn’t do much.

I finally reached the California border and the only state border I'd come across that was taken seriously. There were long queues to check the lorries and even paperwork for the cars. Bikers get waved through I’m glad to report. Maybe California sees itself as a separate country. Maybe we’re too close to Mexico for comfort.

The Colorado River marks the border. It's not that huge here considering what its power has done hundreds of miles to the north. But that could be because of massive irrigation. As soon as I cross the border there is the smell of agriculture, of fruit being grown, there are green fields all around me. This is California.

I'd opted to stop in Blythe for the night as it's just across the border and here I could even afford a Clarion which is a 3* motel chain. So, nicer room, bar on site, good pool, proper lounge area. I Liked it. It's always a dilemma whether to aim for a motel in a decent town and only afford something basic or stay out of town or somewhere off the tourist trail and get a decent play to stay. Having now stayed in Blythe, I can assure you that there is no reason why anyone would want to stop here. Ever. But the motels are cheap.

Dinner choice was limited to the Sizzler across the road, another chain. A harvester I guess to those of us from the UK. But you order, then find a table and they'll find you with your order number. Free salad bar and unlimited soft drinks, so can't complain. Quite a few families celebrating graduations.

And the heat. It was still 42deg when I walked back to the hotel at sunset. How do people live here? And tomorrow I have to cross the Mojave Desert, the most unforgiving of regions.