More exciting trip news from the Coast-2-Coast USA team - a bunch of brave and not wholly sane guys from the UK, cycling across the lower continental United States from Oceanside, California to St. Augustine, Florida to raise donations for the Children's Hospital for Wales and the Noah's Ark Appeal. Go, guys, go!

To contribute to their fundraising, see their site HERE

Rich's #5

Today started with me discovering a gash in my front tyre almost through to the tube. Not sure when it occurred but the thought of it blowing on the descent yesterday into Palm Desert is a little scary.

We took in 3 states today, starting in California and then nipping into Nevada for a short while and then ending up in Arizona.

The riding was again quite tough with long relentless climbs through the mountains. They weren't steep but there was no respite. It was difficult to make up much time on the descents as the quality of the roads so far has not been great. In fact if Barak Obama is looking to spend his way out of the credit crunch he could do worse than invest in a road surfacing programme.

The heat also played a part and mentally the long straight roads were difficult to cope with. You'd put your head down for a bit and when you look up the horizon seemed just as far away. I'd swear that the Romans colonised America before the Brits.

At one point Gar and I got our kicks on Route 66. It was just 7 miles, but the impact of the freeways was evident as once (potentially) thriving communities had turned into a ghost town. I felt like Lightning McQueen as I zoomed through - Kapow! Having said that our day ended back on Route 66 in the still busy town of Kingman.

Spirits (for those not men of Kent) were dampened slightly as the news from the Millenium Stadium filtered through and made worse by the realization that Wales had even finished below England in the 6 Nations - a fact I hastily pointed out, but didn't labour because there's not a great deal to shout about in English rugby and also fear of my brakes being tampered with by one of 10 disappointed Welshmen.

Air Conditioning Bike

Gareth really struggled with the heat of the mid day sun, but Stoney kept him going until his stint was done, He thanked him very kindly with a smacker on the lips and Big Merv told them both why go to Rome and have fish and chips.

The heat it seems a problem as the boys meet in the bar, Gareth has a brainwave lets take the aircon off the car, I have a premonition and I think that you will like, so when I start my run day two will stick it on my bike.

The Big Bear started day two off refreshed and fully fed, but 15 miles on desert soil his wheels began to shred, A cry for help to the backup boys just as his wheel went POW resulted Porth screaming on his Mob no problem Ill be with you now

As a team they struggled on to fight for their chosen cause, their bodies bruised and battered and their bottoms full of sores, Nothing couldnt stop them as they had nothing to fear except the state of Mervyns mind as its all down hill up here?

The Mojave and the salty flats provided an awesome sight but Andy kept complaining that he struggled with the light, forgetting his sunglasses I think that you will find is an odds on way in the middle of the day for the big bear to go blind.

The desert view and evening sky was certainly the biz, it brought it home to all involved what a wonderful planet this is, So on they go to the next stage and all of them will feel that our blood and sweat and even tears is for the Noahs Ark Appeal.

Stephen Stone
Wodonga, Australia

BBC NEWS

Click below for link to BBC News

BBC NEWS

Day Two - Andy

I am informed by Phil that we did 83.2 miles on day one. Two big climbs Rainbow Canyon and following a motor bike accident fatality saw us hit an hour of steady climbing taking us up to 4000 feet. Legs are tired and theres another 14 days to go

Why go to Rome and have fish and chips, a reminiscing Merv states after tucking into a large Pizza Hut pizza the night before.

Richard notices a tyre shredded even before breakfast and Henry and I set off 0700 hrs through a deserted 29 Palms towards the Mojave and the heat of the day.

The desert plateau of 29 Palms, surrounded by a range of mountains is cold as the sun rises from the east. Sun blinds us as we have forgotten sunglasses. Navigation is a problem as we are told that we should be heading up dirt tracks. 10 miles cycling is wasted going round in circles. The pounding potholes of the first day has taken its toll on my back wheel and a puncture and a shredded tyre sees me helpless in the middle of no where with Porth telling me on the mobile, no problem be with you now

The 2nd leg we descend for 7 miles down Old Woman Mountain and then hit the salt flats of Amboy. Mile after mile of snowy, salt flats.

3rd leg takes Phil, Henry and myself into the Mojave Desert and 5 mile steady climb of a 1000 feet sees Big Bear struggling and about to bonk when two American cyclists are coming at us in the opposite direction.

Lets pull over I shout up to the other two. They are cycling from Las Vegas to Palm Springs in 8 days. Weve just done it in a day!

Refreshed after a chat I throw some food down and am feeling good again onward.

The next 12 mile stretch is downhill with the Kelso sand dunes to our left reaching a height of over 3000 feet.

Its all downhill up here, Merv throws in.

90 degree heat and with a cross wind brewing, times were getting harder. Tactical decision to go to individual cyclists gets us through t he next few hours. Turning south we are hit by very strong, very dry head winds. Tactical decision to go back to two by two helps as Richard is able to tuck in behind Phil.

So we have 50 miles to go and a 15 mile stint of 4000 foot climb to finish the day.

Mervs Daily Final Thought of The day:- Started well till after breakfast. Hard to take in all the panoramic views. Quite humbling realising what small fish we are on such a wonderful planet. Boys coped well with the conditions still all working well as a team. The end of the day is nigh and at the end of the day it gets dark. A good sense of achievement as the mileage has been upped from day one. Gareth was struggling with the heat maybe the boys should have considered air-conditioned bikes.

North County Times, Oceanside

Yes, Timothy Kilpatrick will have some good stories to tell his five children and future grandchildren someday.Stories about how he decided to hop on a bicycle one day in St. Augustine, Fla., and pointed it west with the intention of riding until he reached the Pacific Ocean. Stories that include riding along highways and back roads, pushing through mountains, intense heat, some cold and rain, strong headwinds and other obstacles. Stories that include a coyote sniffing around his tent as he camped along the side of the road and of meeting a nice couple at a Texas ranch house, where he knocked on the door because he needed to replenish his fluid supplies. Stories that he chronicled in a journal of his 34-day cycling trip across America, a journey he undertook because he wanted a challenge, wanted a chance to see things from a different perspective and wanted those stories to share. Mission accomplished.

Kilpatrick, who recently moved to Oceanside with his wife, Jodie, and family, left St. Augustine on Feb. 8, and touched his front wheel to the water at Mission Beach in San Diego around 8:30 p.m. March 13. Kilpatrick, 29, was "hurting pretty bad" when he arrived in town after his 2,520-mile journey. But being reunited with his family made things considerably less painful. "Of course, I was happy to be here. It was getting old near the end because I was doing it alone," Kilpatrick said. "I was happy to get here, see my family and start my new life." The ride was a huge stretch for Kilpatrick, whose longest previous cycling trip was 100 miles. He said the first 300 to 400 miles were the roughest, as his muscles adjusted to the daily pounding. After that, "Things started to get a little numb," he said. Kilpatrick is done with long-distance rides for now. His next task is to find a job, having had to close his construction business in Alabama because of the economy.

He shouldn't have any trouble convincing prospective employers of his ability to complete assignments. Return trip: In a reversal of sorts, a team of four cyclists from Wales plan to leave the Oceanside Municipal Pier early Friday morning for a two-week ride that will take them to St. Augustine. The four riders, ranging from 27 to 48 years old and in varying degrees of shape, according to team member Andy Edwards, are taking on the ride in a bid to raise money for the children's hospital in Wales. They have already brought in more than 50,000 British pounds, with donations continuing to roll in. We're just a team of mates from family and work," said Edwards. "We've done long-distance training, but nothing like this." The riders, Edwards, Gareth Evans, Richard Belcher and Phil Jenkins, will be trailed by a camper van. A documentary crew will film their journey, called "Coast 2 Coast USA." They'll ride in pairs, alternating every 20 miles. It's kind of a crazy idea, admitted Edwards, adding that it was something the buddies cooked up hanging around together. "Once you say you're going to do something, you've got to go through with it," he said. "We're going to do it. Bring it on."

To coincide with the Left Coast Eisteddfod in Portland Oregon on August 22nd 2009 the downtown Central Library will be holding a "Welsh Month". For further details and to RSVP ( if you are an Americymru member ) please go to this page:- Welsh Month Page . As part of the program authors Niall Griffiths and Penny Simpson will be presenting a reading/Q&A session at the library on Thursday August 20th between 12 and 2. To read more about both these unique talents see below. ADMISSION FREE

Writer Niall Griffiths is the author of six novels, radio plays, numerous travel articles and lives in Aberystwyth, Wales.

AMERICYMRU: How did you start writing?

NIALL GRIFFITHS: I picked up a pen. Honestly; it seems to've been that simple. I don't know why. There was never any books in the house, but it was full of stories, especially from my grandparents, of the old countries, the war, ghost stories etc. I don't remember the very first thing I wrote but it happened as soon as my motor functions were developed enough to hold a pen. I wrote novels at a very young age, about giant crabs and man-eating wolves, etc. My mum still has them, I think, somewhere. The world seemed less dangerous and threatening when I was writing about it. It seems like writing is always a thing I've felt a terrific compulsion to do. Don't know why, and don't care why, either; I don't question these things. Just accept them....... MORE.

New Welsh Review, June 08 - [An] extravaganza where the real and the imagined take turn and turn about... sumptuously detailed and fantastical... [this novel is] at once full of disturbing delicacy, and at the same time [forceful]... [marked by its] humour, verve and hallucinatory strangeness.

Clare Morgan, Times Literary Supplement, 25/7/08 - Compelling... superb talent for storytelling and an almost Zola-esque delight in detailed and richly sensuous description of the material culture of both rich and poor. Wales Literature Exchange 2008 selection, www.walesliterature.org The 7ft plus heroine of Simpson's book The Banquet of Esther Rosenbaum contrasts strikingly with familiar fact-or-fiction cabaret personalities like Sally Bowles or Marlene Dietrich... Working for the most famous chefs and bakers of her day, [Esther] expresses both political and personal yearnings through her increasingly [fantastical] recipes, served to Jews and Gestapo alike... Esthers survival depends partly on her brilliant culinary skills, but also on her ability to pass as non-Jewish. It is not a natural ability; she adops a mans greatcot and top hat, beneath which she becomes increasingly emaciated. Simpson vividly conveys how the optimistic creator of Kiss-of-Hope biscuits hides, denies, and finally regains her larger-than-life identity.

After waking up in casualty after a cardiac arrest I recollected a game worthy of the sobriquet tense. It wasnt exactly a brilliant game, it wasnt exactly a fast flowing game, it wasnt exactly the game Id hoped it would be and yet because of the stakes it seemed exciting.It started off rather politely where letters of introduction were exchanged in the form of a game of patty cake. You know the kind of thing? A swift left here, a sharp right there, an uppercut or two to get better acquainted. All good friendly stuff. The game then went into some kind of torpor mode where the players seemed to be playing as an afterthought a tough afterthought but an afterthought nonetheless. There were a few slick moves but nothing to suggest that the game was going to be anything other than a war of attrition.Half time came and went with Wales in a 6 - 0 lead.The start of the second half reminded me of The Battle of Islandlwana where the Zulus moved so quickly through the ranks of the South Wales Borderers that the tips of their cigars looked like the paths of tracer bullets. Ireland went bananas and scored two tries in as many minutes it seemed. The Taff then regrouped and slowly and steadily pulled back by superior play aided and abetted by the Irish who seemed hell bent on giving away penalties. The upshot of it all was that the last ten minutes of the affair will go down in Irish folklore forever.It was a deserved Irish Grand Slam and all the better because sitting in the stand was Jack Kyle the captain of the last Irish side to win the Grand Slam in 1948.

Dewi Scott was a rotund lover of life whose appetite for food, tinctures and chicanery of every sort set him amongst one of the finest men I have ever known. His particular delights were the Muppets, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Strongbow, double Pernod chasers and a slap up Chinese meal at the end of an evenings revelry.The week ends entertainment started on a Friday night at seven sharp at his local called the Cardiff Arms. A couple of pints to start the night were partaken of and thence it was off down Treorchy High Street to several other watering holes ending at the local rugby club four hours later. In this time span it was not unusual for our hero to down eighteen pints of Strongbow cider with mandatory double Pernod chasers. It was then off to the local Chinese restaurant to consume fantastic quantities of food. In the morning Dewi would awaken early for he was a postman by trade seemingly none the worst for wear after the previous nights excesses. After work the same routine commenced at seven sharp again. This was the ritual for two straight years.But all routines can become boring and as time passed Dewi decided to broaden his horizons and started branching out to local clubs usually as a guest at someones birthday bash. It was at one of these occasions that Dewi was to start the most profound weekend of his life.It all started with snow fall close to Christmas in 1977. Treorchy looked for all the world like John Fords idea of a Welsh mining village in winter. The charm of the place coupled with pre Christmas excitement had put everyone in high spirits. None more so than Dewi. And so it was that Friday night came around and the revelries began. It was to be the Cardiff Arms first and then on to a club called The Pig and Whistle. The club was a typical working mens institution with a snooker playing area downstairs and a dance hall upstairs.We noticed that Scott was in a particularly happy mood that night as he started drinking at twice his usual pace. By eight thirty he had put away some ten pints and twenty Pernods and was well on his way to la la land. By the time we reached the club - about a quarter of a mile away - the cold night air added to the alcohols effect and we were all feeling pretty well oiled when we got there. Inside the club the birthday party was in full swing. The night continued on its way with more imbibing. At around half past ten one of our fellow travellers who was fond of cannabis pulled out a piece of resin the size of an OXO cube and thought to partake of a spliff or two. Dewi noticed this and to emphasise his dislike of drugs took the resin away from him and for no accountable reason put it in his mouth and swallowed it. There were a few strong words exchanged but it all blew over pretty soon and we started to think about going home. At ten forty five Scott suddenly stood up and started to march and I mean march - around the hall. We watched in awe as he did about ten circuits until he finally shot out of a door and disappeared downstairs. We followed him to see if he was all right but was told by the door man that he had gone home mumbling something about having to get up in the morning. We decided to call it a night and slowly made our way through the snow to our respective homes thinking no more of Dewi.On Saturday afternoon it was the habit of a number of us to call in to the Prince of Wales pub which was situated next to the Crown post office in Treorchy the place where Dewi worked. When we got there the landlord could hardly contain himself. He looked like hed been crying. In fact hed been laughing so hard he just looked upset. Have you heard about Dewi Scott? he chuckled. We obviously hadnt so we were all curious to hear. I was talking to the Post Office manager earlier today and he told me Dewi had turned up for work at five am this morning. Good! we all thought and said so. You dont understand said the landlord. He turned up for work wearing only his slippers, a pair of trousers and an alarm clock tied around his neck with a piece of string. Hes been taken home.We sat down and started to contemplate the implications of this news when, unprecedentedly, who should walk into the pub but Dewi himself. He looked like his usual self but seemed a bit distracted. After a few sherbets he started to talk to us about the previous night. He said that hed made his way home and had had a most disconcerting experience. On entering his bedroom he said he saw a sea lion lying on his bed. It frightened him so much that he decided to spend the night on the sofa downstairs. Hed filled a hot water bottle for some reason and had also tied an alarm clock around his neck to avoid sleeping late. At around three in the morning he woke up feeling desperately thirsty but was unable to get up so he opened the hot water bottle and drank the lot. The next thing he recalled was being taken home by the Post Office manager.We explained to him what hed done with the cannabis the previous night but he had no recollection of it. Whatever! The afternoons session continued and we again noticed that Dewi was drinking like a man possessed. At around six it was obvious to all that whatever was mixing in his blood was taking an amazing toll on his speech and motor abilities and so it was with some surprise that he suddenly stated that he was going home. He lurched out of the front door of the pub and promptly collapsed into a five foot bank of snow on the side of the road and would not be roused. We were debating whether to call an ambulance or whether to take him home when there was some kind of divine intervention. The local Salvation Army band that had been out on manoeuvres collecting for the needy spotted him and his plight. Given a practical chance to exercise their concern for those afflicted with the demon drink, they picked him up and took him home all of them in full uniform and instruments walking through Treorchy High Street.We didnt know whether to laugh or cry.The following day Dewi once again turned up at the pub. He was sober, embarrassed and ordered an orange juice. He said hed come too somewhere near his house and just couldnt understand who all these people were surrounding him. Worse they had taken him home to his parents house and he remembered the amazed look on his fathers face when he opened the front door to be confronted by the spectacle of his son being held up by the band.After that, apart from a few other notable outings, he cooled off considerably and met a woman who convinced him that his drinking wasnt really the appropriate behaviour of the man she wanted to marry. To his credit he quit the booze and lived the life of a happily married man. He still does.

Twenty-Nine Palms, California - elevation 1950 feet/595 m.

They're starting out rough, high in the California part of the Mojave Desert - where summer daytime temperatures have got as high as 119F/48C and nightime as low as 9F/-12.2C.

Gar's #3

Today I had my best hour on a bike- ever!! After a frustrating start, plagued by a sat nav that's adamant on taking us down incomplete roads, and a road closure which resulted in a detour, the vistas' of San barnado mountains were superb.

The four of us set off from Oceanside having been greeted by Tim Kilpatrick, a gent from Alabama who has recently completed the coast2coast single handily, unsupported over 34 days. After the initial climb from the pacific, rich and myself headed towards the Bonsall.

Andy and phil take over, and are greeted by a fabtastic canyon climb, which would have lifted their mood, but taken its toll on their legs...and by now, the sun has burnt through the cloud.

We arrive at tucalama, and once rich presents the art of urinating into 4 seperate cups...without spilling a drop, the sat nav has a pop. We change, rich and myself continue to Anza, steady climbing, but nothing as steep as the stint facing andy and phil on the next leg.

Rich and myself reach the summit of the climb, a max height of 4600feet...and then we have the pleasure of the 15mile decent to the oasis that is palm desert. The roads are awsome, the views breathtaking, and the experience...can only be described as top gear on bikes...rich taking up the role of James May.

The bear and phillipousis continue through the desert heat to Morongo Valley, not helped by the Traffic lights. Again, they seemed to have had the short straw, hampered by the lights, keeping them trapped on the dese rt sun, unable to get any momentum they make their way to morongo valley.

Morongo Valley to Twentynine Palms.

Rich and I begin our last leg next to a wind farm the size of Carmarthen. Thousands of wind turbines as far as the eye can see, an there's a damn good reason why they're here...there's one hell of a wind, and we're attempting to cycle straight into it.

Our average speed for the daysrops dramatically as we struggle to maintain double figures, but worse is to come, as we turn right, now with the wind at our backs, we start to get the hills...in what assists the ascending on this leg alone to 4400 feet. By now, my legs are running on fumes, not helped by the 90degree desert heat, and undoubtedly there's no way I could have done that alone, so cheers rich.

We finally reach the summit of our last climb, to hear that the guys have reached the hotel...unfortunately, the wrong one, and they are ushered out of their routine sheepdip in double time.

Day 1 is over, only 14 to go...and toxays climbing and heat outlines the severity of the challenge ahead. There's no doubt...I'll sleep tonight.

Rich's #3

Well I made it beyond 10 o'clock at night, but nobody told my internal alarm that meant I could sleep in beyond 3.

So today is the big off and it started poorly with me moving to the floor space outside the bathroom to sleep (or not as the case turned out) in order to get away from Porth and Pop's snoring. Although I think the enormity of what we're taking on has hit me and nervous tension was the main cause of laying awake.

None of us want to let anybody down but we are where we are and just need to see what the next few weeks hold.

Americymru member Bee Richards has contributed the following short story to the BBC site:- Murder at The Mari Llwyd Part 1 Murder at The Mari Llwyd Part 2

Tis The eve of the Grand Slam, Triple Crown and Championship.The Celtic fringe once again gathers in Cardiff for a Cambrian / Hibernian face off.The Irish, festooned with shamrocks, have crossed Saint Georges Channel with delusions of winning their first Grand Slam since 1947. The gods of Wales await them with a masterful smile.In times past, the encounter of these two wild, cultured, volatile, passionate and emotional peoples have seen more beer and porter being put away in an afternoon than is decent to remember here.On the field one fondly thinks of Brian Price decking an opponent in front of The Prince of Wales and sometime later Geoff Wheel being sent off for re-enacting the same sans royalty.Of course in these more enlightened times I also remember the likes of Tony O Reilly, Mike Gibson, Ollie Campbell and the immortal Willie John McBride; fortunately theyre not playing tomorrow. But then again fortunately for them neither are Gareth Edwards, J P R Williams, Gerald Davies or Delmi Thomas.Great times. Lets hope we have a game tomorrow that has the Hwyl and Crack that the occasion deserves.Wales 28 Ireland 19 is my prediction. - fortunately I don't gamble.:)

Welsh comic author Dilwyn Phillips has just published a collection of humorous medical anecdotes. Hospital Jokes, published by Y Lolfa, covers all aspects of hospital humour from doctor, doctor jokes to a whole chapter on viagra. Dilwyn Phillips, author of many similar books believes that humour is an antidote to many conditions and that reading this book may be a drug free way of alleviating stress, boosting your immune system, and may even help towards managing certain physical conditions whilst exercising various muscles.

Dilwyn Phillips, who hails from Pontarddulais in South Wales , but now lives in Los Montesinos Spain , said Ive spent days on end on hospital beds and its always great to have something easy to read. Im convinced that this book taken 3 times a day with the medicines and treatments will put you into a good mood and help get you out of that hospital bed in no time.

Dilwyn is married to a retired nurse and credits many of the anecdotes, stories and observations included in this book to her. Hospital Jokes , an ideal get better soon gift, is available on Y Lolfas website www.ylolfa.com for only 3.95. ($6.00 approx )

Stuck in the Wilshire Plaza reception, waiting for the guys to come back from getting the vehicles. Different reports come back via cell phones. As we wait Merv tells stories about shark attacks in Australia.

The waiting has been delayed as the boys have had to sit through a video of how to clean the toilet and various other necessities needed for the running of the battle wagon, the El Monte Camper Van that will now be known as HMS Hwyl (Ship of Fun). Delayed also by the Tom Tom installation that when completed just happened to be in the Dutch language. So here we wait listening to Merv giving us names of ships that he knows.

'I used to be on HMS Eagle - it was so long ago it was an egg!

I missed a day but Andy Edwards and Gareth Evans and the rest of their team touched down in LA and are on their way across the country, raising money for the Children's Hospital for Wales! They're going to blog their trip and I'm going to reproduce it here for all of us:

DAY ONE

Early start from Pendine at 0200 hrs and pick ups on the way down the M4 meant the team was all together by 0500 and heading for the airport. Stopping at Reading Services for a million dollar breakfast meant we were at Heathrow in plenty of time. Self checking meant no upgrade but all progressed smoothly until Tom got on the Guiness by 0900.

An 11 hour flight with Myra the Welsh speaking stewardess from Talley slipped by unnoticed. Phil and Merv were not happy with the food but the views ou t of the window of Greenland and then the sheer size of the States was realised and they soon lost their appetite. Good fun was had telling jokes and playing quizzes.

Henry, Gareth and Richard who had had their 'Skins' underwear on all day started to melt in the L.A. heat not helped by the taxi driver attempting to drop us off at the Beverley Hills Plaza Hotel where Julia Roberts was entertained by Richard Gere. The Hotel was 10 miles away from our hotel and 10 times the budget and I don't think flip flops would have been appreciated in the foyer.

We've now been for a dip in the pool after being up for over 24 hours and are now about to step ashore for some bevvies and a bit of scran.

RICH'S FIRST

And so finally the trip starts in earnest, although the 11 hours sat on my bottom courtesy of virgin Atlantic promises to be a little less taxing than that which will follow. The journey started in less than auspicious circumstances at the Ibis Hotel in Cardiff Gate. As we were being picked up at ridiculous o'clock I booked the hotel for myself and Gareth. As we would have bike bags I requested a ground floor twin room. We got a top floor double room! Despite strict demarcation and Gareth's plea for no spooning, the appalling softness of the mattress meant Gareth gravitated towards the centre of the bed to the extent that I considered getting out and back in the other side. So sleep was not exactly plentiful but the journey so far has been all according to schedule. I'm 8 hours into the flight between films and looking forward to getting there and sorting my bike ready for a gentle warm up tomorrow.

DAY TWO

It started with most people waking up at 0200 thinking they had had a good night's sleep. People are itching to get going but there's still so much to get done. Who's going to be in charge of what? Mervyn has stepped up to be i/c of laundry and Andrew immediately took up the offer of being i/c of the kitty.

0500 - Phil is playing his guitar in his pants, Mervyn is looking up sightseeing spots, getting mixed up between John Wayne and Ronald Reagan and asking whether we should go and see the Queen Mary and the Russian nuclear submarine down in Long Beach.

0900 Merv's confusion continues - four hours of Australian dits he then saw the Hollywood sign from Wilshire Boulevard and realised that it didn't look anything like Perth. After a moment of disappointment and a plateful of grits at the local Denneys, we took in the sights and Merv's focus turned to the many palmed treed avenues and the frequency of Eurasian beauties driving Lexus and Saabs driving by.

THE NIGHT OF NOISE

Whilst the acoustic set in room 1008 is in full swing, there is a very different acoustic in room 1014 aka. 'The Room of Noise'.

Myself and the Wild one spent the hours of 10pm till 4am enduring 20 minute stints of sleep disturbed as efficiently as the japanese transport system by the dulcet tones of Stoney's face.

The english language cannot do justice to the sound he emitted throughout the night but I will leave you with a few stats...

Number of times woken up by the 'noise' last night - 8 (minimum)

Number of time Wild one was woken up - 8 (minimum)

Numbers of ways we have come up with to 'accidently' kill The Stone - 142 (and counting)

Phil has told me he has earplugs so all is good from this point on.....bring on the noise Stone. That is all for now.....

GARETH'S FIRST

Finally here! The worry of "have I packed enough base layers and spare kit" has been put to rest by the fact it's 75degrees outside, and it's still only 9am. The bikes are set up,the weather is good, but we still have the day at leisure...which way to the beach? You could swear the good folk of l.a. Have never seen a Welshman walking down the road for breakkie in shorts and t-shirt at 7.30 before!

Got to look at things positively, could have had as good a nights kip as Henry, spooning the coast2coast wind tunnel that is Mr. Stone. He loves it really.

Henry Saves the Day - The Day the Kitten Shone

On opening Ian's bike bag I found that the lug that held the rear derailleur had snapped in transit. I had been warned by John from Tenby Cycles that this was one of the weak points that could be trouble when traveling abroad.

On closer examination I discovered that it bit of the frame had snapped as well - total and utter disaster. Ian was informed and did not take the news too well. he immediately phoned his insurance company, Lloyds of London and his Platinum account stated that his bike was not covered. Controlling his temper Henry suggested to Ian that a phonecall to the Press officer of Virgin Atlantic would be a better option. After speaking to the baggage handling department of Virgin, who were very concerned about the colour of the 50 bike bag which was grey and not the 1500 bike inside it. On the other phone Henry in his best Meltwater voice was conversing with the Virgin Press Officer who realised that a PR disaster was on the horizon especially as the BBC are traveling with us and she authorised an immediate allowance of $2000 to cover the cost of a new bike! henry's thinking outside the box and his phone manor and charm. Whether Ian will thank him by the end of the trip will be another story! Ian will thank him tonight by sleeping in the bathroom so that Henry and Tomos will not suffer the snore torture!

Henry Saves the Day Again - International Rescue

During the drama of the afternoon Henry received an urgent phonecall from the Principality's capital as a large unknown male spider was walking around Lowri's bedroom. After consulting with Ian 'The Exterminator' Stone who's thought process went through pistol whipping and bitch slapping finally settled the best form of defence was attack and that she should use a machine gun.

Negeseuon Pob Lwc

"Andy-I know we all need to keep in shape but this is a bit extreme.When you get the chance read a book called"The memory of running by Ron McLarty."
Roger Ford, London Welsh RFC

"Fanstastic cause Andy, well done for doing this very extreme challenge. Just make sure you pack the Vas! Not a bad excuse Andy and well done for raising so much for this very worthy cause. I'm sure you'll have a fantastic time doing it and some great memories along the way. I'll keep you in the loop."
Dai Williams London Welsh RFC Old Boys

Thank you for your donations.

'What are we but memories'

Gar #2

A night at leisure meant that half the guys went for a jaunt 'downtown'. Without the exterminator Stone and his sidekick, Henry Kittenger, would we be safe... We did after all have 'Dyfrig death' driving!!

After a swift spin down the road, we finally arrived at the staples centre; an luminous metropolis that makes Blackpool look like Cwm Cou. Anyway-to the box office, and after a confused discussion with your friendly Mexican tout, we got our tickets...for a damn sight cheaper...(it wasn't until after our south central friend had departed did visions of Ross kemps gangs come to mind!!).

Back to the basketball, the LA Clippers do a job on the Washington Wizards, a smash and grab our tout friend would have been proud off, with the highlight of the event undoubtedly...the clipper spirit, google them for yourselves!

Quick spin back through Korea Town to the chateau, swift steak and it's back to bed, only to find Rich 'the 1' Belcher sleeping comfortably in the floor, spooning his duvet in a way that would have made jenny proud. (sorry Jen xx)

It's midnight now, Thursday is upon us, a crucial day for the logistics and psycho Stone with the purchase of his new wheels upon us. Stone...pimp your ride.

Oh yeah, it was also nice to get a couple of hours road time today, even though the 80 degree heat was a tad uncomfortable, it sure beats the bloody snows of Blaenavon. Electrolytes at the ready!

10-4

Pops

Rich's #2

I'm still very much on UK time. It's 5 in the morning and I've been awake a while. Will I ever see 10 o'clock at night?

So yesterday saw the first road miles -a quick leg stretcher around the local streets in search of a bike shop to source Stoney's new steed.

Surely 9th street is between 8th and 10th! Well it turns out it is, only the part we were on goes under a different name. Unfortunately the school crossing control lady doesn't know so a few more minutes of aimless cycling before we find someone to point us in the right direction, and it turns out we need to be a couple of hundred yards down from the school crossing.

That bike shop doesn't sell road bikes but gives us the address of the most famous cycle shop in LA so off we go again and Andy is soon on first name terms with the guy in the shop, getting the squeak on his bike looked into and negotiating a discount for Ian.

Then back to the hotel along with Andy's magical reappearing squeak. The traffic lights meant it was all very stop start but I was surprised by the courtesy shown by the inhabitants of this car loving nation, with several people tooting, waving, giving the thumbs up and declaring their Welsh heritage at the lights.

LA from the 10th Floor

Well here we are Thursday 19th day two at the Radison Wilshire Plaza on Wilshire Blvd. Just as I'm starting to feel settled in,today we pick up the vehicles and head on down to Oceanside,our kick off point.

It feels as though the little things start to feel complicated like how do we pick up the two vehicles from different locations and all be there to sign the paperwork, what do we need to stock the motorhome up with for the trip and what replacement bike should Stoney get?

After our arrival on Tuesday we all decided to try to stay up as late (normal) as possible to try to overcome or even circumvent the effects of jet lag. A pasta meal and a couple of Moretti beers and I think I hit the hay at around 10pm local time (around 30hrs after getting out of bed in Carmarthen).

Awake at 1.48am the next day (Weds 18th)and up at 4am myself, the Bear and Cooperman headed out in search of scran. We found Denny's just a few blocks west and had a Grand Slam breakfast with GRITS. "What's this made of please I asked potato?" "no corn its really good". After adding maple syrup and jelly Merv decided that the wallpaper paste was OK.

Back to the hotel then for our first team meeting and a swim. Some of the team have tasks and will go find provisions while the cyclists will assemble bikes and go for a fist run out. 5 bikes done and then Stoney's come out in more pieces than we expected. Its clearly been handled poorly and a small but significant piece has been snapped clean off and its beyond repair. We hit the phones and emails in an attempt to gt the OK for a replacement.

Ian's patience is tested to the max as he keeps being asked by claim staff what colour the bag is and what it says on it. After screaming `your missing the point` for 20 mins he`s about to explode when THE KITTEN rouses from his position and turns all MAX CLIFFORD like on the Virgin Press office. We leave then to it and the four of us go for a spin in search of a bike shop. Whatever happens with the claim we'll have to get a new steed.

We end up at Helen's bike shop in Beverly Hills and find two great looking machines. We head back to our hotel and are met with the great news that The Kitten's mojo is cooking and Virgin in light of the charitable nature of the event have agreed $2000 replacement. Smiles all round again.

We chill for a couple of hours and after a quick dip in the outdoor pool hit the hotel bar for just a couple as drinking here could lead to a fiscal deficit similar to a UK high street bank at nearly $6 a bottle of beer.

Seren, Tomos, Porth and Telesgop staff head off to see a basketball game and the remaining 6 head back to Denny's for dinner.

Several `dits` from the Cooperman over dinner, one of which was full of advice about the need to take a couple of ninja's to the toilet with you - something to do with hand shaking apparently!!! saw us all having a good laugh.

THURSDAY 19th

Up early again the body clock still hasn't fully settled but feeling good. Its feels like this is it as we have things to do and places to go today ahead of tomorrow's real off.

Happy pedaling...

Phil `the ninja hand shaker` Jenkins