Ensenada, Mexico: 285 kms (8503 kms)

Every rule in the Adventure Motorcycling Handbook was broken yesterday by two hapless Brits prior to arrival in Ensenada, Mexico. In the morning, whilst innocently posing for pictures of each other in front of billion dollar pieces of weaponry, we were politely informed by the Military Police at MCAS Miramar that we had ridden unhindered onto a secure installation. A rapid exit came forthwith. And in the evening, not having learned this valuable lesson, we proceeded to ride straight through the busiest border crossing in the world disregarding any need to either clear out of one country, clear into the other, temporarily import our vehicles or insure said vehicles into the country of destination. The naively projected 2 hour trip between San Diego and Ensenada transpired to 6 chaotic hours culminating in a ride through the streets of Tijuana, lost, and in the dark of night. Not under any circumstances or for any amount of money on God's great Earth would I like to experience this latter adventure again. And never has a cold beer at the end of a day tasted quite so sweet! TransAmericas officially began at the Mexican border. Everything else prior to this was just horseplay.

San Diego, California, USA: 582 kms (8222 kms)

We left Las Vegas today with mixed feelings. I thought that two days would suffice and I'd be pleased to be riding away but far from it. We've had an amazing time here in this Disneyland for adults, the likes of which I never expected. We've seen all the sites that Vegas has to offer and in amongst them were some real gems. Given the financial hardships here in America and the worsening credit crunch (the Bellagio, for example, must clear $2.1 million a day to stay in business) Messers Puig, Cowing and Duncan have contributed generously to the state of Nevada. The holiday within the adventure is over and we are now in San Diego to collect some bike parts before the onward push to the Mexican border this evening. And, what a shocker, it's actually raining!

Las Vegas, Nevada, USA: 259 kms (7618 kms)

My god it's like a furness here. I think the mercury is topping out at 35 degs C as we sit here by the pool, sipping beers and planning a night at the tables of the Bellagio and the MGM Grand. Damn this life on the road is tough. Ever conscious of my TransAmericas budget I plan on stealing Matt's motorcycle keys tonight whilst he's sleeping and gambling the bike on black 27. Wish me luck. Incidentally, for those curious, of all the people to be late to our scheduled rendevous Matt was the sissy!

Lompoc, Not Indonesia, California, USA: 412 kms (6969 kms)

I don't have the foggiest clue where I am tonight as I arrived late and put the tent up in the dark. Not to worry though, as Chapter 2 of TransAmericas commences tomorrow when Mr Matt Cowing and Senor Jose Puig join the festivities. I'm currently three hours up the road, Jose lives 4 hours down the road and Matt could throw a stone at our planned rendezvous point: Santa Monica Boulevard at 1100, 25th September 2008. Last one there's a sissy!

Here I come Stu, ready or not!

It is time. My blue Yamaha should now be sat under the watchful gaze of customs at LAX – complete with matching green jerry cans!? I am sat at home in Brackley, contemplating the next 3 months and what may lay in store. Just spoke with Stu on the phone and all is set for our 11:00 meeting on Thursday 25th by the pier on Santa Monica Boulevard. I fly tomorrow morning. Mum is on taxi duty to the airport and yet again I seem to have over packed.

Mixed emotions right now and will miss my wife Emily enormously.

See you stateside……Matt

San Francisco, California, USA: 238 kms (6242 kms)

It's San Francisco, baby! Oh and look, the sun's shining again. What a shocker. More evidence to confirm my theory posted Thursday 11th September. Frisco appears as cosmopolitan as I expected it to be and will be investigated further over the next two days. I fully intend to bimble, amble, get into adventures and sample a few American traditions like baseball and credit crunching!

Incidentaly, anyone thinking of a motorcycling trip could do little better than to ride Highway 1 down the American west coast. The ride was some of the best road riding I've experienced to date. Death loomed on every corner with sheer drops into the Pacific Ocean to the right and more bends than a deep sea diver! But your intrepid explorer held his nerve and rode over the Golden Gate Bridge unscathed and without any sign of the Californian mist the bridge is so famous for. Yet another classic day, I'm afraid to say. Sorry.

Brookings, Pacific Coast, Oregon, USA: 324 kms (5439 kms)

Could somebody please ask him upstairs to pack-up the sun and put away all these fine views that seem to be following me wherever I ride? It's all becoming a little too much for me and I'm running out of superlatives to describe it all.

Highway 101 from Bandon to the border of California was characterised by very little traffic, long winding, perfectly engineered roads and a coastline that I find difficult to put into words. Draw-dropping could be a good place to start. Picture to the left was taken at Port Orford. Hope your respective lives aren't too dull driving desks and pushing pens!! Mine riding south gets better and better. Some nice pictures coming as soon as I find somewhere with a decent internet connection.

Canon Beach, Pacific Coast, Oregon, USA: 441 kms (4862 kms)

"This town's sick, brah?" For those cinematically savvy, Canon Beach is where they filmed the final scenes of Point Break. And there you all were thinking it was Bell's Beach, Australia. How stupid. It's news to me as well as I had no clue about this before I rolled into this very quaint seaside town tonight. Consider yourself learned. Don't thank me though, you're all welcome! I've gone from one extreme to the other today: 35 degs C at Mount St. Helens to 12 degs C by the coast and both within 160 kms of each other.

Portland, Oregon, USA: 331.1 kms (4421.1 kms)

It was a shame to leave Canada on Saturday as the lower 48 have turned out to be the polar opposite of my experience north of the 49th parallel. I've most definately left the wilderness behind me now as it would seem that everything in the US, as if I didn't know this already, is undertaken on a far larger scale. This applies double to the unfriendly interstate freeways. Seattle was a really nice experience, although landing in downtown on the Bainbridge Island ferry late on Saturday night didn't give me the greatest first impression of the city. In fact I wonder how many people get the right impression of a city when they immediatelty levitate to its centre. To counter this I took a bus ride out to the 'burbs on Sunday night to listen to an acoustic Sub Pop band in a restaurant/bar and really got the Seattle experience. Very cool indeed. This afternoon I'm heading to Mount St. Helens. The temperatures are once again off the scale for this time of the year and will peak at 32 degrees later today. Will camp at the mouth of the Columbia River tonight to get a little of that Pacific breeze. Then I'm riding the coastal highway (101) down to San Francisco.

I never made it to Vancouver unfortunately. That city will have to wait. I have instead, for the readers pleasure, sacrificed a whole day to upload some images taken on TransAmericas. Enjoy.

Nanaimo, BC, Canada: 418.2 kms (3730.4 kms)

During long days in the saddle I have time to contemplate the finer points of life, the universe and everything in between. I have therefore given much thought to the following statement but feel, given the weather experienced on TransAmericas to date, that the following is unequivocally true: the sun shines out of my you-know-where! Not news to me, you understand, but maybe to you readers out there. The evidence is in the unnaturally clement weather that has shadowed me the breadth of the west coast of Canada: days upon days of endless blue skies. The run down Vancouver Island today from Port Hardy was no exception and simply stunning. British Columbia has knocked the socks off me.

I'm staying two nights now in Nanaimo with the Pickells. Tomorrow I'm off to Vancouver to be cultural. Not sure I can pull this off but I'll give it my best shot. Cheers all.

Prince Rupert, BC, Canada: 0 kms (3298 kms)

I've been slack at keeping this thing up to date but that may be in part due to the wilderness that is the Yukon and British Columbia. The distances between points of interest in this part of the world is just ridiculous. But that is now behind me as I take a day off in Prince Rupert in the company of Liz and Colt (thanks guys, really) to shower and gather myself. I really needed this break having covered 3298 kms in only 7 days. The stuff I've seen and done since Anchorage has been totally off the chart, topped off in Stewart, BC by an impromptu helicopter ride over the glaciers surrounding the town (thanks Duggie, really). Tomorrow I'm on the BC Ferry to Port Hardy and Vancouver Island.

Dease Lake, British Columbia, Canada: 676 kms (2157 kms)

Everyone, bag your lives and get the first available flight to Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada. Buy yourself an unnecessarily large RV - because everyone else has one - and head down the Alaskan Highway to Junction 37. At the only restaurant in town pop-in and try some of Dennis´ delicious blueberry pie. And tell him that Stuart says hello. After that take the first right on to the Stewart Cassiar Highway. After about 200 kms, just before Dease Lake, in the shadow of some damn fine scenery, drive down a little dirt track, erect a fence to keep out the bears and start building your dream home. Then we´ll be neighbours! This is just a pipe dream, of course, but this place is stunning, and it hasn´t even started snowing here yet!!

Dawson City, Yukon, Canada: 565 kms (898 kms)

Yesterday was an epic day as I left AK behind and rode into Canada. Blue skies, autumnal scenery, snooker-table flat tarmac, gravel and a lot of dust; the day had everything. There's a lot of fun to be had in this part of the world on a motorcycle and most of it is off the Alaskan Highway. And not a Harley in sight either! I rode The Top of the World Highway 150kms from Chicken down into Dawson City on seat-of-the-pants loose gravel, something I hadn't been prepared for prior to arriving in Central America. But what a laugh. This is about as North as I'll be as I now start to head south towards mainland USA.

Glennallen, AK, USA: 333 kms (333 kms)

Hi folks. I left Anchorage on the 2nd Sept. and and spent last night in Glennallen. Getting here was an achievement as I ran out of petrol only 3kms from the airport! I'm not sure if the world or anyone else is aware of this but the scenery in Alaska is staggeringly impressive! Keep that secret to yourselves though! The weather's dry and the bike's performing well so will try to get to Whitehorse today.