Gold. Pure Gold!

Having negotiated the steep and rough road to reach the car park, we warmed ourselves over the gas heater, chatting with the owners and other guests that were waiting for a tour of the abandoned gold mine at Eagle Mining. Not many will know but my secret pleasure is to lose hours of myself in YouTube, watching gold prospectors from all around the world. Having failed to scratch the itch in the Fraser river, Canada, my desire to do my own gold-panning was still strong.

Leaving our bike helmets amongst the old mining memorabilia, we grabbed a more fitting yellow head protector, joined a group of about 15 people and headed underground with our tour guide. This guy was a true asset to the mine - he was funny, knowledgable and truly passionate about the history of the mine. He made fun of us Brits in the right way, could relate to the children and made the mine come alive with the stories of those that had lived and worked there. When we finally reached the sunlight again, we were invited to pan the sands in the troughs provided and I spent a good 30 minutes panning out numerous pans of sand to find the glittery loveliness at the bottom - not the same as finding your own on a river bank, but a great second-best.

With half the day gone, we had a beautiful but uneventful ride West, taking us to the Best Western in Poway. Best Westerns have a mixed review in the UK, with some fantastic hotels, providing 5-star facilities and preserving historic places. This was none of those…. Yes, the room was clean but that’s about all it had going for it. Our neighbour was a long-term resident who was down on his luck and had left his ‘marbles’ somewhere along the way. He had retained his religious views but had forgotten his sense of privacy and decorum - repeatedly coming to our room to tell us about some religious programme he was watching on TV.

Another long-term resident had a beaten up, old BMW parked outside our window, as they occupied the room above ours. The inside was crammed with clothes, children’s toys and general rubbish. Occasionally, other cars would pull up and loud conversations would provide us with an insight in to their buying and selling of drugs, whilst parading about the place in underwear. As I looked through the grimy window from my sagging, dusty sofa at an 8 month pregnant girl wearing the skimpiest of bra and knickers as she discussed prices with the latest arrivals, she screamed at me, “what you looking at, dirty old man!”. I tried my best to retain a sense of decorum but there was an element of “old man” looking out of a window at a pregnant girl wearing next to nothing, that was hard to deny. However, I refused to change seats or close the curtains as I looked back down at my keyboard and waited for them to get bored.

Loading the bikes the next day, with the not-so-helpful advice of how nature was not created by nature and how god’s hand could be seen on this programme we really must watch, we were pleased to be away, thankful that the couple upstairs had not emerged to throw further ‘old man’ insults as she exposed her bump to the hot sun. Time to head for the Californian sun-kissed coast and the home to surfers chasing their dream of the perfect wave.

As we headed North, hugging the coastline, we pulled up at a set of red lights and this guy pulled up in the left turn lane next to us and shouted out “there’s a story here!”, a line we had heard many times and one to which we rolled out the usual travelling the world stuff. Our ahead lights turned green and we pulled away so as not to hold up the traffic behind. Isi was the first to notice the truck change lanes and pull in a few cars behind, We thought nothing of it until we made a few more turns and he was still just a car or so behind. It was at this point, I suggested we jump on the highway and see what happens - he followed. Not really knowing where we were going, we pulled off at the next junction and, seeing him follow, pulled in to a petrol station to make sure we were in a public space - it all seemed a bit weird.

What followed was just beautiful. Simply beautiful…

Neil, as he introduced himself as, was born and raised in the Carlsbad area and with his lean, well tanned physique and lightly greying hair, he was looking far younger than the age he stated. Over the next hour, we told him about our journey and answered his many questions about how we had made the leap from an idea to actually doing it. Then Neil started giving his story of how he had ridden most enduro bikes, training many riders, travelling all over the States and enjoying the good life that California, opportunity and hard graft provided. He had a dream that one day he would set sail and travel the world’s oceans but has never quite got around to it.

He had another dream of doing up an old truck he had sitting in his garage and taking off to explore all the corners of the USA. Unfortunately, he lost his wife soon after buying the truck, about 20 years back, and the loss hit him very hard. He was left feeling empty and unable to find the desire to do the things he used to do. The truck remained in the garage, gathering a layer of dust over the flaky paintwork and the dreams within. Eventually, and where he is now, he has formed a new relationship and he is starting to look at what he wanted to do but has now convinced himself it is too late. The best years of his life have passed and his dreams of adventure have been sealed up within the dust and memories of how his life could have been. Despite all the tales of his past lives and achievements, he considers himself to have done nothing worthwhile; to have wasted his life and he’s resigned to it.

Until he saw us and listened to how our dreams became a reality even at our age, though we’re not as old as Neil, and he looks a lot fitter than we are! Through chasing us down and listening to our story, we could see some light return to his blue eyes, we could see the potential for the dust to be blown away, dreams re-kindled and the truck may yet live to see the dream come true. Just before he left, he reached in to his truck, emptied his dash of the money he had and passed it to us. “It is all I have but I wish to help your dream come true”. We left with glints of tears in our eyes, just as they return now as I recollect that chance meeting.

And with that, we parted ways. Us to our hotel room that was cheaper than a campsite and Neil to his garage (hopefully).

Neil - I wish we had exchanged details as we would have loved to have had more than just a brief chat with you and we both sincerely hope that our gift to you is the realisation it is not too late and that you and your truck can start a new journey.

The next day, we walked the 5 miles in to Oceanside, enjoying the varied quaint houses with their beautiful front gardens and painted kerb-stones showing the name and number of their property. It seems to be a tradition in this part of California, that names and numbers are written on the kerb-stones, making it easier to locate a property, rather than scanning the whole facade for a name or number that may or may not exist.

Isi figuring out if it is worth a trade-in

After many photo opportunities and finding an ATM that would actually give us some money, we ended up on the seafront of Oceanside and the Top Gun House that appears in the original, and best, 1986 Top Gun movie starring Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis. The house was the home of Charlie Blackwood (Kelly McGillis) who was the main romantic lead of the film and can be seen with another historic house behind it. Over the years since filming, the house was listed as one of significant historic value but came under threat as a new hotel development was planned for the area. The entire housing plot was levelled to make way for the hotel. The house, then called the Piston House was first relocated to allow for the hotel development and to protect the historical significance. Over the years, the house fell in to disrepair and a high fence enclosed its decline, to prevent people from breaking in and further damaging the place. A property developer announced their intent to restore the house and relocate it (again) a block further North and it is now the centrepiece of the Mission Pacific Hotel. The restoration, costing nearly $1million was completed and the house reopened just a week before the Top Gun: Maverick film was released. A replica of the original Kawasaki GPZ900R Ninja is on display on a stand outside the house and is there for people to sit on and take photos.

The house is now a famous Pie shop but was closed on the day we were there.

So, we walked the length of the Oceanside Pier, ate some fantastic chips (fries in the local language) and spent an age photographing the pterodactyl’esque pelicans as they flew above our heads and dove in to the sea, ignoring the few surfers that were out on the water.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped and watched a digger and dump truck shoring up the eroding coastline, with huge boulders of rock. Residents of the houses looked on as they hoped the activity would delay the demise of their frontage and allow them to restore their foundations.

Back to the Desert.

Thanksgiving Feast!