California after five months

I came down to Rohnert Park from the mountains in the Sierra Nevada. It was warmer in California. I saw some people in a T-shirt and shorts. On a clear Saturday as warm as a day in early summer of Japan, Michael was to take part in the demonstration against the US's bombing Afghanistan which would be held at noon in the neighbor town called Pataluma. I went there with him and his wife, Sachiko.

I had copied both of the music into MP3 format in Japan and taken them with me, however, the real concert was so dramatic that I felt like listening to different music. The musicians playing the music are the people with different jobs like music teachers, while in Japan they are employed by the government like Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra. I have once read a book writing that the artists including writers cannot feed themselves in the US. Under this circumstance, it is surprising that even a small town of Catati with the population of about 7000 has an orchestra. When the concert was over all the audience stood up and gave a endless storm of applause. I supposed it was because of a free concert, but everyone gave a donation and left the place. I once again felt like witnessing the foundation of the democracy of the US. The R1100R has traveled 18,000 km (11,000 miles) and came back to California, crossing Canada and running around Florida on the way, since receiving the new tires, engine oil, oil filter and spark plugs in Calgary, Canada more than three months ago. I thought the tires were still OK, but was always worried about its engine oil. As the maintenance manual on BMW R1100R suggests the replacement of the engine oil every trip of 12,000 mile, I have kept riding all the way to California, wondering if a big engine really can endure such a long distance without the supply of new oil. I finally got the R1100R overhauled at a near BMW dealer, preparing for the trip to South America. As I had made up my mind to leave the maintenance job of the R1100R for a professional, I did not learn the work by the professional and lied on the lawn in the park nearby for five hours of maintenance. Therefore I did not know about how closely the mechanic examined the bike or about which parts of the bike he replaced, however, I paid as much as $400. According to the dealer, the engine oil must be changed at least after the travel of 10,000 km (about 6,000 miles). My way of traveling is gradually becoming irresponsible.

Let's forget about the mistake of the engine oil. It was over anyway. But the problem now is the left foot. The pain in the left foot is caused by my short legs that allow only the tiptoe can touch the ground.

In addition even the back of the same foot has begun to ache by its abuse for shifting gears during a long period, no matter how seldom less number of traffic lights require it in a day in the US. I must also solve this problem. I visited a shoe shop to find the boots with an iron plate covering the tiptoe and I found a good thing there. It is wonder plastic liquid and it turns very hard like iron after solidification. I bought two of them for $40 in case. When I was about to apply it on the boot, it came to my mind that a thicker sole of the boots would make it easier for my feet to touch the ground. The boots should have the same thick sole as those worn by young Japanese girls. To tell the truth this was never a new idea. Many of my friends were joking me to do so before I left Japan. I myself ignored the idea as a joke. Now the style of boots does not matter any more. I had the sole made thicker by an inch ( 2.54 cm ). As a result my feet touched the ground more easily than before, but I had to pay another $140 for this. Including the expense for the plastic coating, the total expense was $180. Because the boots itself cost me only $25 for a bargain sale, I felt something wrong, but I accepted the reality. There is a workshop where they make the seat of the bike lower in three-hour ride in the south. Now I am ready to do anything. I will visit there and get the seat cut off on the way to Mexico. Please allow me to forget about the budget. To tell the truth, I came back to California to obtain a motorcycle license, but the Department of Motor Vehicles told me they could not give a license to a person who did not have a permission of stay with more than three months. The maximum period of stay given to a tourist is three months. This means a tourist cannot get a license. I came back all the way to California from Texas, as I was told that a young German man was able to get a license by showing a rejection report of social security to the DMV several years ago. So, I also went to a government office like a social welfare office in Japan to get the same rejection of social security and then I showed it at the DMV, but their answer was totally negative. Later I found that the German was a student and had a longer staying time. As I had a slight doubt that the US government would give a license to a tourist so easily, I was rather satisfied that I was able to make it certain at least. At the DMV I also asked if they could issue a California license by my Japanese license as the Japanese government does. But naturally, I saw a negative sign in the face of the person in charge, "What are you talking about?". I was becoming to be self-destructive and I also visited the AAA, an office like JAF in Japan. I asked them if they could issue an International License, showing my Japanese license. The lady in charge was very sorry to hear my problem caused by the silly Japanese government, but she could not do anything about it, of course. The term of validity of an International License is one year and the government office in Japan absurdly insists that I should go back to Japan to visit the office with my license. If I am out of Japan and cannot make it by myself, I must get a necessary paper from a Japanese Embassy or Consulate in the country where I stay and send it together with my license, not a copy of it to Japan, and then to their office send one of my family who will get through the paperwork on behalf of me. I think this is too much. If I were stopped by the police during the mailing of my license, I would be charged without the license. Don't you think so? And in addition people say mails can be often lost or pinched on the way in some countries. I know both the DMV and the AAA allow us to do that kind of job on the Internet. I believe the Japanese government should sometimes take the same kind of good idea or system as the US has, not always blindly following the unacceptable policies of the country. I myself also worked for a government in Japan, however, I even now feel desperate when I remember the situation of the Japanese governments. I will once again try to get a motorcycle license in Guatemala, where I will stay to learn Spanish for a longer time. Although I could not get a license in California, I was happy to see Michael again and that was enough for me. By the way you can get a driver's license for $20 in California. Even if you fail in the paper test, you can try it two more times for that $20.

On the way to California I read the California handbooks for a car driver and a motorcycle rider, even underlining with a red pen, to pass the test after many years, but my plan to obtain a license ended up as a negative answer in a day. Therefore I decided to head for Mexico, after staying in Michael's place for about a week. At first I went west and then south along the sea coast.

In the north and toward the south of San Francisco, the steep cliff of rock mountains falls vertically into the sea. Especially in the south of San Francisco, the road scrapes the middle of the precipitous wall of rock and keeps sharp windings. Farther down below, the sea is making white-crested waves. To fall off means the end of life. This lasts 200 km. There are few places of accommodation in this long distance. The prices are naturally high. As they charge impossible $100 - 150, I keep riding to the next motel, competing with the sun setting into the sea with expectation of arriving there before dusk. From this cliff road to San Diego at the border of Mexico, there are lots of tourists and accordingly hotels or motels are expensive. I kept riding, looking for a less expensive motel, but I had to pay more in the south, for the first motel $35, the second $40, the third $46, and finally in San Diego I paid $67 for a small room without even a telephone. Without doubt that was the most expensive motel during this trip. Tijuana in Mexico is a neighbor city of San Diego. The border is in the distance of 20 - 30-minute ride form San Diego. I will be broke unless I leave an expensive town like San Diego as soon as possible. Everything is inexpensive in the countries south of Mexican border. Fortunately, the ache in the left foot has much eased thanks for the huge investment on the boots, which enabled me to touch the ground easily by my feet and killed the pressure from shifting gears. And, I am coming into Mexico at last. This is my fourth visit to Tijuna and I know the town. I will be able to see those happy, sweet people again. I have mostly forgotten Spanish, however, I want to speak even a word as soon as possible. My journey stars from now.