USA -1986

Don’t be fooled by the dates in the corner of my pictures—my camera was still set to Australian time, and it took me a few days to figure that out.

I spent a good week in LA, soaking in the sights while staying at the Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard in West Hollywood for nine nights. I hired a car and cruised along the coast to Venice, Santa Monica, Huntington, and Malibu Beach. I also wandered down Sunset and Hollywood Boulevards, spent a day at Disneyland, another at Universal Studios, and caught a baseball game.

One night, while having dinner on Sunset Boulevard, I met a lovely girl who showed me some of the city’s nightclubs—it was a fantastic evening. She rode a bike around LA, which inspired me to see more of the USA the same way. So, I bought a Honda Shadow 750 to continue my trip on two wheels.

At Venice Beach, I encountered some real characters—muscle beach fanatics showing off their skills every weekend. From weightlifting and skateboarding to rollerblading and wild side shows like men eating glass, juggling chainsaws, balancing eggs on bowling balls, and other crazy stunts—it was a spectacle like no other.

Roller skating and skateboarding along the Venice Beach boardwalk were a daily spectacle—though the photo quality from the ’80s leaves a bit to the imagination. The roller dancers spun and glided to the rhythm of the street, while the crazy skateboarders and rollerskaters pushed the limits with tricks and stunts that wowed the crowd.

I hired this car to get around during my first six days in LA.

I spent a day at Universal Studios, where Back to the Future was all the rage. Of course, I had to snap a picture of the iconic DeLorean. I also caught an exciting stunt show, including the A-Team stunt performance—remember the A-Team? It was great to see those classic action scenes brought to life.

This was a flash flood scene right at Universal Studios—quite the spectacle! I also got to see the classic E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial—you know, “E.T., phone home.” And guess who I bumped into? Laurel and Hardy themselves!

The next day I went to  the TV and Movie Car Museum in Hollywood, and walked around and drove up to the Hollywood sign.

6925 Hollywood Boulevard — the famous Chinese Theatre.

Here’s the car from the movie Bonnie and Clyde.
And this is the futuristic vehicle featured in Blade Runner

I spent the day at Disneyland, and to my surprise, The Moody Blues were playing live during my visit. It was an unforgettable experience blending classic music with the magic in the park.

I strolled along the Santa Monica Boardwalk and walked out to the end of the pier, taking in the view south toward Venice Beach.

The Chateau Marmont Hotel on Sunset Boulevard—infamous as the place where John Belushi tragically died of a drug overdose in 1982.

Later, I drove down to Huntington Beach, where they had a massive skate ramp hosting some sort of a contest—it was quite the scene. Before leaving LA, I figured I'd better catch a baseball game, so I went to see the LA Dodgers take on the Atlanta Braves. It was a slow, tense game that went 13 innings, but in the end, LA clinched a 1-0 victory.

While having dinner on Sunset Boulevard, I met a girl named Christy who showed me around L.A. by night. She took me to some of the hottest clubs at the time—the Rainbow Bar and the Whisky a Go Go, both iconic spots on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood. Christy rode a bike around the city, which gave me a great idea: what better way to see a country than on two wheels? So, I went out and bought a Honda Shadow 750cc.

This picture shows the bike I rode across the USA, parked outside the Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard in Hollywood.

I left L.A. and set out on Interstate 15 through the Mojave Desert, stopping for the night in Las Vegas. The next morning, I rode on through St. George, Utah, then turned east on Highway 59 into Arizona to visit the Grand Canyon’s North Rim. After taking in those breathtaking views, I backtracked to rejoin I-15, headed north into Utah, and stopped at Zion National Park. From there, I passed through Cedar City and picked up Interstate 70 eastbound, winding my way through the Rocky Mountains.

I arrived at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon—what a magnificent and awe-inspiring view it was.

I set up the camera, climbed the fence, and managed to capture this shot using the timer.

While riding through the Mojave Desert on Interstate 15 to Nevada, I stopped to snap a picture with a Joshua Tree—a true symbol of this rugged landscape.

Zion National Park, Utah — a stunning natural wonder.

I rode east on Interstate 70 through the heart of the Rocky Mountains, surrounded by towering peaks and winding canyons.

I stopped at a youth hostel in Julesburg, Nebraska, but there was absolutely nothing there, so I decided to push on to Lincoln for the night. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a youth hostel in Lincoln either. It was pouring rain, and I was completely soaked when a local church group kindly put me iupn for the night. It was a bit unusual—they sat in a circle chanting and hugging each other, so I slipped out to grab some dinner. After an early night, I was up at 5 a.m. for an early start.

Here’s a shot of Lincoln’s City Hall.

I left Lincoln, Nebraska, traveling east on Interstate 80 through Des Moines, Iowa, before stopping for the night in Davenport, Illinois. The next day, I picked up Interstate 90, passing through Indiana, Michigan, and Cleveland, Ohio, making my way toward Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

A Canadian named Karl, who worked for us back in Australia, had told me to stop by and visit his parents and hang out with his friends while I was in Toronto. So, I did just that.

Along the way, I crossed the mighty Mississippi River in Iowa—a memorable landmark on the journey.

I arrived in Toronto late and booked a hotel for the night. The next day, I finally found Karl’s parents’ house in Mississauga, just outside the city. They were wonderful hosts and took me in for three nights. During my stay, I explored the area—walking along the shores of Lake Ontario, one of the five Great Lakes. I also visited the top of the CN Tower (Canadian National Tower), checked out City Hall, and spent some time at the Ontario Science Centre.

The light rail system around Mississauga, Ontario—making it easy to get around town.
Karl’s mum and dad’s house in Mississauga, where I stayed during my visit.

Lake Ontario, Toronto, Canada — a stunning part of the city’s natural beauty.

I went to the top of the CN Tower and took in breathtaking views of Toronto and the surrounding Ontario landscape.

City Hall, East Tower, Toronto, Ontario.
The Ontario Science Centre—a great place to explore science and technology.

I went to Smidy’s house—Karl’s friend—for a BBQ and ended up staying the night. The next morning, Smidy and his flatmate took me down to London, Ontario, where I stayed at Mike’s place for the weekend. We hit a couple of bars—Barny’s Bar and the Firehall—and I met a lovely girl named Tracy. We all had a great night, and when Tracy offered me a place to stay, I wasn’t about to say no.

The next morning, Steve picked me up and took me to a university football game: Toronto University versus Western University. That afternoon, we headed to another BBQ to meet Karl’s sister, Erica. Later, we went to Joe Kool’s bar, where I ran into Tracy again and spent the night. The boys picked me up the next morning, and we drove back to Toronto.

Mike, Smidy, Steve, and I at Mike’s house in London, Ontario, Canada.

This is the view from Mike’s backyard—peaceful and welcoming.

They took me to the local watering hole, Joe Koolisky Bar (Joe Kool’s Bar), where I even picked up a box of matches as a souvenir.

and took me out to explore more sights. One highlight was the Kavalkade—a fantastic event where you get a passport and visit different “countries” set up around the city. Each stop featured that country’s music, traditional dances, and local food, and you get a stamp in your passport for every place you visit. I especially loved the Jamaican, Trinidad & Tobago, and several of the Asian halls.

I would like to thank all of Karl’s friends who helped me out and showed me around, as well as everyone who gave me a place to stay during my travels.

After spending a great week in Canada, I rode down to Buffalo, New York, and I spent the day at Niagara Falls—taking in the breathtaking views of both the Canadian Horseshoe Falls and the American Falls.

From the top of the Canadian Horseshoe Falls, the view was nothing short of spectacular.
Looking across from the Canadian side, you can see the American Falls in all their glory.

I went down to the base of the falls, where you can enter a cave beneath the rushing water and peer through man-made openings to get an up-close view of the falls.
From the U.S. side, the American Falls stretch out on the left, with the majestic Canadian Falls visible in the background.

Time to hit the road again. I got back on Interstate 90 through New York State, stopping for lunch in Syracuse—a lively university town. After that, I hopped on Route 87 south, heading down to the Big Apple, New York City, where I planned to spend a few days.

Here’s a shot of the Hudson River in NYC. You can even take a helicopter tour from the Brooklyn Bridge, flying around the city for an unforgettable perspective.

I took a tour on the Hudson River over to Liberty Island to visit the Statue of Liberty. After disembarking the ferry, I climbed hundreds of stairs all the way up to the torch, taking in incredible views from the iconic statue.

The World Trade Center in the Financial District—a powerful symbol and central part of New York City’s skyline, which sadly no longer exists.

I took the train out to Coney Island, Brooklyn, soaking in the lively beachside atmosphere.
Brighton Beach Pier, Brooklyn, NYC—a classic spot full of energy and charm.

I stayed in a penthouse youth hostel on 34th Avenue, Manhattan. I parked my bike just around the corner at Madison Square Garden. As I turned around, I bumped into a guy who looked drunk, but before I knew it, his friend put me in a full nelson headlock while the other went through my pockets. Luckily, I only had a $20 bill on me.

Here’s the amazing view from the penthouse hostel—looking down toward Times Square on 42nd Street.

The Dakota Apartments on the Upper West Side of Manhattan—famous as the home of John Lennon, who was tragically shot and killed there on December 8th, 1980.

I took the train to Yankee Stadium in the South Bronx, 161st Street. On the train, I met a guy who at first made me think I was in trouble, but he turned out to be a cool guy and ended up showing me around the Bronx for a while.

I headed south down I-95 through Philadelphia, then took a shortcut through Delaware on Highway 13, crossing the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. The toll was around $22, but it saved me hours of riding—and my butt was getting sore, so it was well worth it.

I found a great hostel in Virginia Beach, Virginia, where I stayed for about six days while looking for a van to drive the rest of the way back to California. I met a great bunch of people there—Dave was heading the same way as me. Eventually, I got a van, loaded the bike in the back, and headed south.

Here are a few of the guys from the hostel, a shot of the Virginia Beach Hostel, right across the road from the beach.

I got the van for $400. To fit the bike inside, I removed its front end and carefully loaded it into the back. Tossing a mattress in the back of the van, we hit the road and headed south.

We took I-95 down to Florida, stopping first at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where we spent the night sleeping in the van by the side of the road. The next morning, we freshened up with a beach shower before continuing on.

We spent a few nights at Daytona Beach, Florida. The nightlife there was fantastic, with plenty of partygoers and a lively atmosphere. Here’s a view from the Daytona Beach Pier—one of the highlights of the trip.

We backtracked up I-95, then cut across to I-75 heading north. We stopped at Ormond Beach, which had beautiful, soft white sand—definitely worth the visit. Later, we spent the night back at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

We reached Interstate 10 and headed west, running short on time, so we made only a few stops. We passed through Tallahassee and Pensacola before stopping for the night in New Orleans. That evening, we explored the French Quarter and enjoyed the lively bars along Bourbon Street.

Here’s a glimpse of the French Quarter in New Orleans, Louisiana, and a bridge spanning the mighty Mississippi River.

Leaving New Orleans, we headed north on Highway 49 to Shreveport, Louisiana, then west on Highway 20 to Dallas, Texas, where we spent a few days. One afternoon, Dave and I stopped by a creek under a bridge to set up a small fire and relax. Suddenly, a cop approached with his hand on his gun, ordering us to raise our hands. We complied immediately.

Later, we found out that just three weeks earlier, a triple murder had occurred right where we’d made camp. Understandably on edge, the officer advised us to move on—and we did.

Here’s a shot of Dave and me at the bridge, just before we set up camp, with the Dallas skyline looming in the background.

Dave and I hit the bars in Dallas, having a great time. We also decided to visit Southfork Ranch, the iconic setting of the TV show Dallas.

Southfork Ranch, Dallas, Texas.

We spent a week in Texas, stopping in Dallas for three days—another big city adventure. When we left Dallas, it started pouring rain, and we discovered the van I bought didn’t have windscreen wipers. That was pretty funny! We stopped to improvise a fix by tying two strings to the wiper blades and running them through the windows, taking turns pulling the strings back and forth. Somehow, it worked!

Then we took Highway 20 west to El Paso, right on the Texas-Mexico border, staying just 50 meters from the border fence. We met an American named Jim from Colorado, and together we crossed over to Juarez to explore the markets. For the next three days, we kept crossing back and forth into Mexico to enjoy the cheaper, better-tasting food and beer. Going to nightclubs in Mexico involved being frisked against the wall for knives, guns, and who knows what else.

Here’s a shot of the Rio Grande—the river that divides the U.S. and Mexico.

We left El Paso, Texas, and headed through Roosevelt Canyon along the Apache Trail—a rugged 32-mile dirt road. The van didn’t handle the rough track too well, but it hung in there and got us where we needed to go.

Our destination was the Theodore Roosevelt Dam, located on the Salt River northeast of Phoenix, Arizona. Standing 357 feet high, the dam creates Theodore Roosevelt Lake by impounding the Salt River. Built between 1905 and 1911, the dam was designed to control the erratic flow of the river and provide irrigation water, transforming the arid Arizona desert into fertile farmland.

Here’s a shot of the impressive Theodore Roosevelt Dam.

Finally arriving in Phoenix, Arizona, we stayed just one night. The next morning, we headed north on Highway 17 to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. After checking into the youth hostel, we took a walk along part of the rim—what an incredible view.

At the hostel, everyone pitches in with chores on a roster, which is a great way to meet fellow travelers and share stories. I met an English girl named Rebecca and a few Americans from Colorado. We all ended the day at the pub, enjoying a few drinks together.

Oh, and a little squirrel got into my bag, clearly on the hunt for food!

Dave and I decided to trek down to the bottom of the canyon, taking the South Kaibab Trail to the Colorado River. The descent took about three hours. From there, we walked another five miles to Phantom Creek Canyon, where we stopped for a quick wash. The water was freezing, but it felt refreshing after the long hike.

That night was crystal clear, and I’ve never seen so many stars in my life—a truly unforgettable sight.

Another picture of me at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon—what a magnificent view of this natural wonder.

The trails leading down into the Grand Canyon toward the Colorado River—steep, rugged, and absolutely breathtaking.

The bridge crossing the Colorado River, connecting to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon—an incredible engineering feat set against one of nature’s greatest wonders.

We came across a waterfall and a small waterhole in Phantom Creek Canyon—perfect spot for a freezing but refreshing wash.

We left the next morning—it was around 30 degrees at the bottom, and by the time we reached the top about five hours later, it was -2°C with a bit of snow on the ground. After making it back to the youth hostel, we met two Germans, Burnetta and Peter, who were sharing a car to get to L.A.

I didn’t have much to do with Burnetta, but Peter—well, let’s just say not much English was spoken, but we fell back on the universal language: “Let’s go to the pub for a beer.” It always works.

It was Halloween night, though surprisingly quiet. We teamed up and made plans to head to L.A. together. The next morning, we left the canyon for Las Vegas, arriving late in the afternoon. We hit a few casinos—the Sahara and the Peppermill. I did alright, walked out about $170 up. We stayed just one night, since Peter and Dave had to get to L.A.

Burnetta, Dave, and I then set out looking for a place to stay in L.A.

We made it to L.A. and soon after, everyone went their separate ways. Peter flew off to Tahiti, Burnetta—no idea where she ended up—and Dave headed back home to Australia. I decided to stick around for another month. Eventually, I sold the van, got back on the bike, and made my way north to San Francisco.

When I arrived in San Francisco, I checked into a youth hostel right on the bay—it had a perfect view of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. Just a short walk from the popular Fisherman’s Wharf, it was the ideal spot to wind down and soak in the city.

I visited the famous winding road—Lombard Street—just like you see in so many movies. It's a steep, crooked stretch lined with flowers and classic San Francisco homes.

From the top of Lombard Street, looking down Main Street, the view of San Francisco Bay and Alcatraz was stunning—one of those postcard-perfect scenes you never forget.  

Alcatraz Island—also known as The Rock—sits about 1.5 miles (2.4 km) offshore in San Francisco Bay. Originally a military prison opening in 1868, it later became a notorious federal penitentiary from 1933 to 1963.

I took the ferry over to explore the island. Walking through the cold, echoing cell blocks, it was easy to imagine the lives of those once stayed there. Alcatraz is eerie, fascinating, and full of history.

I took a few photos inside some of the cells—bare concrete walls, iron bars, and narrow beds. It’s hard to imagine anyone spending years in such a place. The atmosphere was cold and heavy, even with tourists walking around.

In June 1962, three prisoners—Clarence Anglin, John Anglin, and Frank Morris—escaped from Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary using an improvised inflatable raft, never to be seen again.

This is me on Frank Morris’s bed in his cell.
The prison courtyard—where inmates got their limited outdoor time. The top step? That’s where the top dog sat.

I walked across the Golden Gate Bridge, with the skyline of San Francisco in the background.

I got back to the youth hostel and met a nice Danish girl named Vivi. Over the next couple of days, we explored San Francisco together. We walked down to the Golden Gate Bridge and crossed it on foot, taking in the amazing views.
Here's Vivi at the base of the bridge, and later on the famous San Francisco streetcar. We also spent an afternoon wandering through Chinatown, soaking up the sights, sounds, and incredible food.

  I spent the next six days exploring San Francisco before Vivi and I rode east on Highway 580 to Merced, a university town north of the city. I left Vivi there and continued my journey solo, heading up to Turlock for a three-day stay.

In Turlock, I stayed at a youth hostel run by a local family. That’s where I met Joanna—her parents owned the hostel. It was a quiet and enjoyable stop along the way. Joanna even played the guitar for me one evening, making it a memorable part of my trip.

Time was running out, so I headed back to L.A. to sell the bike. I managed to get a good price—about half of what I originally paid, which I was happy with.

With a bit of cash in hand and only two weeks left in the States, I decided to head south to San Diego to visit Mike and Bill, two brothers I’d met in Bali the previous year. To make the most of my final stretch in the U.S., I hired a Corvette for the drive—why not go out in style?

Me, in the Corvette at Malibu Beach, California.

I spent five days in San Diego. Mike and Bill had to work most of the time, but they still made time to take me to a great barbecue and a party—it was good to catch up with familiar faces from Bali.

On my last day in San Diego, I stayed at a youth hostel where I met an English guy named Peter. He was heading up to L.A. as well, so we teamed up and split the petrol costs.

Me at Mike’s place in the Corvette, Cardiff, San Diego.

I also spent a day at SeaWorld San Diego—well worth the visit. The marine life shows, aquariums, and up-close encounters with sea creatures made for a relaxing and memorable experience. A perfect way to wind down the trip.

It was time to head back north, so I hit the road with Peter, the English guy I met at the hostel. Together, we drove back up to L.A., sharing stories and splitting the petrol costs along the way.

I spent my last week in L.A. hanging out with some backpackers I met at the Venice Beach youth hostel. We made the most of it by spending a thrilling day at Six Flags Magic Mountain, enjoying the rides and the fun atmosphere. We also squeezed in a few more adventures around the city before it was finally time to catch my flight home.

Some crazy rides at Six Flags Magic Mountain—definitely an adrenaline rush! Here’s a shot of the crew from the Venice Beach youth hostel: Rob (Kiwi), Kelly (Pom), Julie (Ozi), Grace (Pom), and Peter (Pom), all ready for a day of fun and thrills.