lostCANADIAN in Mexico

The grandmother offered us some beans and coffee that we forced down nervous stomachs. "So gringo" The particularly aggressive mexican begins... "How much are your bikes worth? What about that tent?" We watch as the grandmother doesn't flinch as the grandchild pisses on her, as chickens peck at the garbage on the floor. It's time to get going. Bravely, I take a few pictures for proof and we head out after slipping the father two hundred pesos as a thank you. A very nice little family, would have been great if the others hadn't shown up.

Back on the road it's hard not to notice how bent up my handlebars are as we struggle once again up the mountains, through the jagged rocks, bending all of our energy on steering clear of the cliffs edge. Going down only a few times, we finally arrive at Batopilas after several hours, having being promised continuously that it was only an hour.

A very beautiful town in the middle of absolutely nowhere. But we are not alone as other riders are in town. We chatted with our new friend Jay and swapped stories of our travels. He then introduced us to some other riders he had just met up with as well.

After cleaning up, we all go together for dinner and drinks. Happily, we gulp down several beers and enjoy our evening among fellow adventure riders, long into the night.

At last we are safe, with promises that the road through to Creel would be easy. WIth a bed to sleep on, and an endless supply of water, we have never appreciated life more, and have been changed in so many ways through our trials. Surviving against impossible odds, entering this canyon as entry-level offroad riders, we are leaving as experts. Only a handfull of riders have ever accomplished these mountains, and we are among them! We have conquered!