After having a great breakfast I thanked Stephen and was on my way. An hour later I was in Texas for the very first time and really enjoying the scenery until the Pampo police sheriff decided to pull little old 1 cylinder me over in his brand new 8 cylinder Dodge Charger. Apparently, I was driving 60 mph in a 40 mph zone. At first I thought "This is no problem, as soon as I explain my epic journey this police officer will kindly give me a warning." I did my best to be polite and explain in detail my epic journey and tight finances but it was to no avail as he handed me a $190 speeding ticket. After that my mood quickly changed and I began questioning why this was a $190 offense and how much of my $190 ticket would be going toward buying brand new gas guzzling Dodge Chargers for the Pampo police department. The officer was very polite to me after my rant and I think he maybe even regretted giving me the ticket.
After cursing everything about Texas for a couple of hours I crossed the border into New Mexico and soon forgot about the Pampo police. New Mexico was no more exciting than I remembered it being when I was ten years old on a family car trip, but at least it was not Texas. At about 8:00 pm I reached the Arizona border and it suddenly turned very cold. Luckily, the guy who traded me motorcycle pants (Stephen) warned me of the cold desert at night and gave me thermals, a neck warmer, and a face mask. After putting this gear on I was just fine for the rest of Arizona and after what seemed like many hours I reached California.
California was very very very cold. It had to be around 0 degrees F with windchill. With warm clothing this is bearable in a car, but on a motorcycle it is intolerable. I drove for thirty minutes and stopped at a gas station to warm up three times. After this it was about 3:00 am and I had enough. I went to look for a campground that I had seen a sign for. After driving into a forest for about 15 minutes I saw the campground and did my best to silently pull in and find myself a secluded spot. It turned out that this campground was rather full and I had to choose a spot that was only 25 ft. away from a camper. After turning off my engine I can tell that the people in the camper have waken up and are watching me. With the headlight to my motorcycle still on I proceed to take off my helmet which exposes my ski mask. "Oh crap I think to myself, these people are going to be freaked out." Than I remember how the camp attendants sometimes come around in the early morning and write your license plate number down in case of fare jumpers like myself. I grab some cardboard and cover up my license plate all while I can still here the creaking coming from the nervous family watching me through their camper window. I rolled out my sleeping mat on a picnic table and had a surprisingly good 3 hours of sleep.