Route 66 to the Grand Canyon and the2013 20Fathoms World Cup. Part 2.

Well they say nothing in life is simple and that definitely runs true for checking in for a flight out of LAX, I had the usual dilemma with AA over a second checked bag that they wanted $240 for. After some polite conversation and a couple of checks with a supervisor we came to the agreement that my spearfishing gear should be classified as, Sporting goods/ Fishing/ Thin and therefore only incur an additional fee of $40.
Having overcome this obstacle I proceeded through screening and on the the departure gate.
I bumped into Brock my dive partner for the meet whilst waiting for my flight and we caught up and discussed how we would like to dive the competition for the 40 minutes I had until boarding.

The 2 hour flight down to San Jose Del Cabo was uneventful and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the airport had undergone a renovation and had sky bridges and air conditioned arrivals halls. No longer would one endure the 200 yard walk across the baking Airfield Apron to the equally stifling terminal of old.
The modernization did not stop there, Customs and Immigration had also been upgraded and processing went without a hitch. I was met outside by my driver Roberto and once we had collected the 2 other passengers we go underway on the 2 hour road trip to the fishing village of La Ventana. One of the 2 other passengers being my friend Patti who was joining me to scatter some of her late husband's ashes, the 3 of us having dived together in La Paz in 2005.

Descending the last hill with the Ocean in the distance is a welcome sight after a 2 hour road journey from Cabo.

On arriving at Palapas Ventana we were met by Tim and Karen and allocated rooms, our baggage was then delivered to the rooms for us. After some settling in and unpacking we wandered down to the Bar to catch up with the competitors that had already arrived over dinner and a Margarita. Old friendships were renewed and new ones founded. Most of us would be taking advantage of the next day to dive the competition zone and ensure our equipment had not been damaged during the long journey to Mexico. Brock and I chose to circumnavigate the island of Cerralvo and ensure we knew the conditions in every corner of the competition zone. It turned out that the best conditions were on the South end of Cerralvo, this area does not often produce good conditions or fish but when it does the fish can be outstanding.

Day 1.
Brock and I decided to stay on the South end of the Island, we also had a camera man from the cable TV show "Speargun Hunter" filming us for an episode of the show. The Guy's name was Rob and we hardly even noticed him, he was not intrusive at all and a pleasure to work with. Both Brock and I ended the day with 2 fish, a Wahoo each, me with a Milkfish and Brock with a Torro. It took me all day to get the Wahoo I just had the worst luck, I clean missed 2 and had shafts pull out on 3 then finally landed one. Rob got the whole sequence on film and said it was one of the best he had ever filmed and the first Wahoo he had seen landed with a reel gun. All up it was a good day and we saw plenty of fish, we both knew from the conditions that we would do well the following day but so would the other competitors. It was all going to come down to luck in the end, as everyone was equally skilled.

Brock with a Torro.

Day 2.
Day 2 was a virtual repeat of day1 I landed a Milkfish and a Wahoo pretty early on in the day. Brock was not far behind with a nice Torro and an Amberjack but was having trouble with the Milkfish. They are an extremely hard to approach fish and I discovered a few years ago that to be successfull with them you must tuck your gun in under you and lie dead still like a log. If you so much as blink they will shy away, once they are under you slowly and quietly drop onto them and get them from above. Once I had explained this and my theory as to why they behave that way to Brock he had one in the bag on his second attempt.
We both saw a large Marlin and Brock had a long shot at it but fell short, one of the other competitors Francisco managed to land a Marlin later on in the day giving him a huge lead that would prove to be telling later in the event.

Francisco with the Marlin and biggest fish of the meet.

Day 3.
Day 3 was a rest day so Brock, Patti and myself decided to go into La Paz to do some shopping and had lunch at Jonathan Roldans Tailhunter Bar. If you are into fishing or just good food and service this is the place to go, It comes alive after dark and when Jonathon and his wife are in they make a point of meeting every single customer. After a long lunch we drove up the coast a little to Pichalingue, where Patti, Robert and I had dived together in 2005. It had changed alot and not exactly for the better, there were more trucks at the ferry terminal and the resort we stayed at looked tired and rundown. We then drove back to La Ventana and spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach relaxing.


Day 4.
Day 4 saw us back on the water competing and again we were diving the South end of Cerralvo. I put a solid Milkfish in the boat in next to no time and closley followed up with a small Wahoo. Brock put a Torro on the board and nice Milkfish, then things went a little quiet just before midday.We put in a lot of deep dives that afternoon looking for Amberjack and Yellowtail. Our persistance paid off around mid afternoon with Brock landing a solid Amberjack and me landing a Yellowtail from a very deep dive.
I quickly backed that up with a Torro and a small Skipjack Tuna.
Back on the beach my Skipjack turned out to be 1/4 inch under the competition minimum size, still I had 5 fish for the day, the first time I have ever shot a whole days limit in this competition. The Wahoo and Milkfish didnt count towards my score as I already had presented 2 of each, but the Torro and the Yellowtail left me in a healthy 4th place with 1 day remaining.

Day 5.
Day 5 was not our day the current had changed direction slightly and brought some colder water in overnight. We spent the whole day trying to get Brock a wahoo and me a Torro and Amberjack.
I couldnt get away from the Wahoo and the Torro would not leave Brock alone. Late in the day I shot a big Torro from a large school only to have the spear pass through 2 seperate fish, each fish ran in the opposite direction and I lost them both to tear offs. I then put a shaft into a very large Amberjack only to loose it after a 10 minute fight. I had a large Marlin come in on my flasher but didnt see it until it started to peel away, I worked the flasher in an attempt to get it to come back but it had a better place to be and kept on traveling.

Early morning starts made for watching sunrises.

Route 66 to the Grand Canyon and the 2013 20Fathoms World Cup. Part 1

My flight from Perth to Sydney was nothing more than routine but things got a little interesting on the Sydney to Los Angeles leg, the planes departure was delayed when a young boy with Autism had to get off. I felt sorry for him and his family as I had just watched a documentary on Autism the night before and now better understood what the poor young fellow was feeling.
That aside the flight was pretty boring really and landing in Los Angeles and clearing immigration and customs were a mere formality. I collected my luggage and happily found it all in one piece so made my way to the shuttle bus stop and boarded the bus to the Holiday inn. I checked in and made my way to my room ready for a shower after the flight closely followed by a cold beer and some food. Feeling somewhat more human I collected a rental car and spent the afternoon wandering the length of Venice Beach soaking up the craziness of the place before heading to bed around 9pm.
The following morning I checked out early and headed East out of LA I planned to pick up Route 66 just outside of San Bernardino and follow it as best as I could until Williams Arizona. I was amazed at how well signposted the old Route is and found it easily, turning off the 3 lane interstate and settling into the old road with its unmistakable 66 shields painted on the bitumen and old cruising music on the radio courtesy of the MP3 player.

The first place of note I came across was the Bottle Tree Ranch, and what a crazy place it is. Blink and you will miss it but it is a truly amazing place a real monument to one mans creativity.

I searched around for the owner but could not find the man responsible for this roadside icon, after the Bottle Tree Ranch Route 66 winds its way through the desert plains past a junction in the road with a sign saying Hinkley (the town Erin Brockovich brought to prominence) to the town of Barstow where I stopped for breakfast.
Leaving Barstow with a full stomach I headed East toward the emptiness of the high desert and ghost towns with names like Siberia and Bagdad now nothing more than concrete foundations where buildings once stood. I came across a town without even a name to identify it, nothing but empty buildings occupied by birds, the people just up and gone, I took a few photos and left again continuing on toward the Lava fields of Amboy. I pulled off the road in the middle of the Amboy lava field and stared at the emptiness, soaked up the desolation and thought of the depression era Okies like the Joads in Steinbecks "Grapes of Wrath" heading West to escape the Dust Bowl over this very same road.

Amboy Lava Fields.

Leaving the Lava fields and Amboy Crater the next place of interest is Roy's Motel and Cafe, situated on a desolate stretch of road opposite a Marine Corp's bombing range. You can sit in the air conditioned comfort of the restored 50's era Roy's Cafe and watch the bombs explode in the distance. It is great to see that someone has gone to great pains to save a piece of history such as Roy's Cafe and I appreciate the effort required in the restoration. I served in Submarines for 10 years and I have seen some gruesome stuff but none of  that  prepared me for the horrors of Roy's public toilets!!!!! please for god sake restore the fucking toilets, enough said.

Roy's Motel and Cafe.

Heading East from Roy's toward Needles across the Mojave Desert is perhaps one of the most desolate and lonely stretches of the old road in California and I couldn't help my mind drifting back thinking how desperate the depression era Okies must have been to even attempt the journey in the vehicles of the day. There was no bitumen back then, only a rough track across the desert it's hard to even comprehend the difficulties they faced let alone fled.

The next town of any consequence is Needles Ca right on the Arizona, Nevada border. The Colorado river runs through Needles providing the otherwise desolate area with water for crops and drinking. The water is cold and green, a ribbon of colour in direct contrast to the hot grey dusty surrounds. I stopped for fuel in Needles both for the car and myself. Here I encountered a family of 5 that despite the 40 year spread in ages all appeared to be at the same stage of teething as the baby accompanying them. Having seen a snapshot of the local population I did the proverbial "got the hell out of Dodge" and promptly left.
From the town of Topock I wound my way still further East up into the mountains to the old mining town of Oatman, where wild Burro's (Donkeys) roam the streets and harass the tourists for food. The story goes that when the ore from the mine ran out the miners left and turned the Burro's loose and these are their descendants. The young ones have stickers placed on their heads saying please do not feed me, the idea being they must first learn to forage for their own food and not become dependent on a hand out. A safe guard to their survival should the tourists stop providing an easy source of food.

The old stores of Oatman have been preserved and now trade in souvenirs instead of the goods of yesteryear, evidence of the towns history lay in the rusty ruins of poppet heads on the hills surrounding the town. Just outside town is one of the few remaining working Gold mines and I easily recognized the main components of the extraction plant and screwed my nose up at the familiar smell of Xanthate that hung in the air and reminded me of and earlier career in a similar plant.
Leaving Oatman the road twists and winds through the mountains for a while before descending once again to the desert plains and the town of Kingman.
From Kingman the road travels through numerous small towns such as Ashfork, Seligman and Peach Springs before winding up in the town of Williams.
Williams is a welcome stop a small town with excellent facilities surrounded by tall forest a much welcome change in scenery from the emptiness of the desert plains. It is the last town on Route 66 to be bypassed on the 18th of October 1984 but it still retains the character of the 50's mother road stop it once was. It is also the gateway to the Grand Canyon and features the Grand Canyon Railway as a major attraction. From here one can board a restored Steam Locomotive for the journey to Grand Canyon Village, something I passed on as I know all too well the difficulty in washing soot from ones clothes that comes with a steam train ride.
I spent 2 nights in Williams at the Best Western and would recommend the place to anyone looking for a place to stay.

After eating at one of the many great eateries in town I settled into a few evening beers by the fire outside the hotel bar with a half a dozen like minded travelers and discussed where we had been and where we were going.
3 or 4 bottles later and my body told me it was time for bed.
After a good nights rest and a big breakfast I headed out to see the Grand Canyon, It's hard to say what is so impressive about this great big water carved hole in the ground but when you first lay eyes on it you can't help but be impressed. Its a little over an hour north of Williams but be sure and put aside a whole day to drive the South rim you will need it. In typical US style there is a massive RV park and resort at Grand Canyon Village and it comes very close to actually ruining the place, but somehow they managed to control themselves and stopped short of installing an amusement park with wave pool and roller-coaster. This is all quite some distance from the Canyon itself which is just as well otherwise it surely would ruin what is otherwise a truly spectacular sight and deserving Natural Wonder of the World. I spent quite a few hours driving the South Rim and stopped at every lookout along the way before completing the circuit back to Williams via Flagstaff.

I spent another night around the same fire this time with a different group of travelers discussing similar themes as the night before. This time not so tired and with a big glass of Captain Morgan on ice, watching the kids attempt to toast marshmallows and ending up with the inevitable bubbling inferno on the end of a stick.
Ah happy days.

The following morning I began my journey back LA this time using the less impressive interstate 40 to enter the lunacy of the city once more and continue my journey South to Baja.