Enough time for a dinner and hanging out with my family, but it will be an early morning again tomorrow as I'm due back for work!
thirty-seven days on the road and I still look forward to tomorrow mornings motorcycle ride to work!
]]>Unfortunately my cousin didn't get my message and it just fell on the night they had big plans. So while we liked the idea of hanging out with the very cute fourteen year old babysitter, Ky would have none of that! Off we scoot to a hotel (which fortunately had a jacuzzi!) for the night that her radio station was kind enough to provide.
]]>Hopeful to get ahold of a friend in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and spend a night with an old friend telling of heroic tales were misplaced as we sat in a Mcdonalds waiting for her call. Cold and impatient, we finally gave up and back on the road for another hour until we finally located another reasonably priced, although very stinky, hotel for the night.
Sorry, not much to tell, just aching for the warmth of my bed!
]]>Due to the immense differences in hotel costs, we are once again playing the game of hotel hunting until we finally find an appropriately priced one and settle in for the night after much riding in the night, optimistic that at least this should be the last time we spend the cold night riding.
]]>Unforunately for me, they could not do anything about my bent and beat up handle bars so I will have to endure for the ride home. Not so difficult a challenge after what I've already accomplished, but nevertheless I hope I don't suffer from any long term damage down the road (ie: carpal tunnel syndrome.)
Shopping for prices for a U-haul or a truck to cart the bikes back is no longer an option as it's much too expensive and just not necessary anymore. Going to be some long, hard riding days ahead, but we are up to any challenge!
Not spending too much time resting either, Dru took us out for a great dinner that promises to give us much energy for the next day and after relaxing a bit watching a movie, it's lights out and an early morning despite how badly I'd love to stay, time has run out for these adventurers.
]]>Mihai is not doing much better as his bikes chain is about to come off completely, with every single part of it kinked and even lube isn't helping much anymore. These bikes deserve medals for what we have put them through, and despite my problems with my bike in the past, I can confirm that BMW does make a very strong bike!
WIth my arm bent at an awkward angle, clothed with three tshirts and a wooly shirt overneath, two pairs of socks and underwear, and all my riding gear, I am still freezing cold on the highway on our way back to Houston. With seven hundred and fifty miles of highway to go, we race for our goal.
]]> We have learned a very valuable tip this day. We like to call it fishing for trucks, as it seems to be our only salvation. The trick is to find a truck that is going the speed you desire, then with your balls tucked away, you ride about five feet behind it. While the truck deflects the wind and produces a nice heat, it makes riding livable for us. Plus, you can save on gas!Spending over twelve hours like this is a bit nerve racking, but at the end of the day you can untuck your balls and be happy they haven't frozen off!
Back in Houston we are happily greeting by our friend Dru and taken into her warm house. Tomorrow the BMW mechanics will determine whether we are riding home, or taking the bikes in a van.
]]>With one week until I had to be back at work, and an entire continent to pass, we didn't waste time and in the freezing cold, left Creel.
]]> The clock ticking, we raced for the border and the deceptive safety of American soil. By far we have spent many nights in some of the most dangerous places this continent, if not the world, has to offer. We have broken every rule of what not to do in Mexico. We have ridden at night, we have walked Mexico City by night, even rode some of its most dangerous roads. We went to the most warned about cities in Mexico, from Mexico city itself, to Acapulco, to Laredo and so on... We have hung out with banditos, we have slept in a tent on the porch of marijuana farmers. The only loss I have had is my sunglasses while I was trapped under my bike during my first accident. Unharmed, aside from the accidents, we are more afraid of the United States.Just for the hell of it, we pass through the most dangerous border city, Ciudad Juarez, by night as well, after spending the entire day riding through some of the most bleak and barren desserts we have seen. At least we are on pavement and making good time.
Passing through El Paso, freezing cold, we long for the heated vests we have left behind in Houston at Dru's. Without concern, we cough up the sixty american dollars for a hotel room to finally lay in huge beds and drink the tap water without worries!
I will miss Mexico greatly and long for the day I can return. With still much to see, I can look forward to some more great adventures in the future!
]]>The only difficulty is trying to ride with a bent handlebar, as I have to twist my wrist at an awkward angle which causes pain that travels through my wrist, arm and to my shoulder. Realizing I haven't the proper tools to remove it to bend it back into shape means probably riding like this until Houston.
Arriving at Creel in time for dinner, we are welcomed by another fiesta. Enjoying a bit of the celebration, I made my way to the first internet cafe to burn my photos onto CD and to inform my family that I was still alive! Unfortunately the cafe was closing and I wouldn't be able to update journals or upload pictures.
The temperature here drops to a freezing point during the nights and we are promised frost in the morning. Our hotel lacks hot water, so the best we can do is bury ourselves under blankets. One extreme to the next, from searing hot to freezing cold, we are at least thankful to be back on paved roads!
]]>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!
]]>It is safe to say this was the hardest day we have ever experienced in life, complete with challenges that were unimaginable, challenges that were impossible and that defined a person. Completely unprepared and unaware, we set out from Choix for Batopilas.
I cannot even begin to fathom how we are alive...
]]> Warned, with absolute fervor in town to completely avoid Rancho Truchas as the banditos were very dangerous, we retraced yesterdays tracks in the dirt road. Riding about twenty kilometers through the dirt, slipping a bit from time to time, but otherwise enjoying the ride as the sun slowly rose, cooking us in our motorcycle suits, we reached our first destination...Prior to this trip, Mihai had met some friends at a motorcycle meeting and one fellow had previously done this route and in one small village he had taken photographs of some children on his motorcycle. These pictures had somehow ended up in Mihai's possession to be given to these children.
Reaching La Culebra, a very remote village of sixteen families, the steep descent over very rugged terrain with few jarring rocks was enough to bring me down again, completely taking off my left mirror this time, nothing that duct tape could do, I accepted the loss. Reaching the town center amid a swarm of these very same children in the pictures, we began handing out the photos and taking some of our own. There are never any travellors here, because there simply isn't anything here, in so inaccessible and remote an area, deep within these barren mountains. Waving to the army of kids, we once again set out.
Pushing through valleys and hills, we made good timing on the next twenty kilometers, until finally reaching a small restaurant where we stopped for a meal. Unforuntately, being a white devil and all, we were not very welcomed by the small Indian family. Very gruffy they took our order, but even so they prepared us an excellent little feast. The foreman for the roads pulled by for a chat as well, informing us we'd have to make a right turn after the next bridge and also giving us some haunting news, that we were still four hours away from our destination. How could that be? We were already well over four hours into our trip that was originally promised as four, with another four to go, we were a bit daunted.
Very well, we still had plenty of day light. Crossing the bridge, we came to the road, which was little more than a donkey trail amid only the largest rocks with the sharpest edges. My first comment to Mihai was that this couldn't possibly be the road, it was un-rideable. Confirming with a nearby villager, we pressed forward, slowly and cautiously.
I can't even describe the difficulties we endured that were unlike any other imaginable, and the pictures do so little justice. Riding through bone chilling, hair raising curves high into the mountains with a sheer drop of hundreds of feet on so small a dirt road with only sharp, jagged rocks, we went down an uncountable amount of times. Going uphill at least allowed us some meager control through these rocks, but downhill, with gravity accelerating the bikes on steep cliff walls was a bit out of our control. Down time and time again, leaving incredibly sized bumps and scratches along our legs and missing parts of the bikes, we crawled through this spectacular country. With a searing sun overhead, at a high altitude, the overheating light on my bike blinked on continuously while I completely drenched several shirts underneath my jacked with sweat and struggled for every single gulp of fresh air through my helmet. Muscles over-strained while attempted to control my bike as it was jerked left and right, it became so incredibly difficult to lift these overburdened bikes time and time again from the ground as our precious gas leaked from them every time they lay on the ground. Perhaps with more suited bikes and less of a load, this might have been easier, as the backpack on my back is easily the weight of a second passenger, it creates a higher level of gravity giving me little to no control.
Past physical exhaustion and suffering from heat exhaustion, we made it into a valley as I hyperventilated in my helmet. I needed a break. Wrenching off my jacket and helmet, my head spun with dizziness. Making our way over to a group of farmers, we sparked up the usual conversation. "Hello, we are Canadians travelling Mexico by motorcycle." Surrounded by eight of these large farmers, we overlooked our maps, and finally asking where we were, they spoke the dreaded words. This is Rancho Truchas, and these were the notorious banditos. Very well, chugging down some water and wishing them well, we got going.
Not soon after we reached a river that cut the road in half. Knee-deep and fifty feet wide, we contemplated how to accomplish this latest challenge. Only one solution, carry our gear across and then return with the bikes. Splashing through the river, slipping on algae covered rocks, we both made it through without incident. Filling up our empty bottles with lake water and soaking our faces, we finally had a chance to cool down, but were concerned with the small amount of drinking water we had left. This river water was fine for cleaning our radiators of dirt, but hardly qualified as drinking water.
Being told by a local man, who we came across blocking the road while he pissed on the tire of his truck, piss drunk, that we still had three hours to go to Batopilas. After he offered to sell us a kilo of marijuana, we gave up trying to determine how long it would take and just pressed on, back into the steep mountain roads, spilling even more blood on the jagged rocks, sliding too close to the edge of the cliff time and time again. I fought against heat exhaustion, until finally giving up, drenched completely in sweat again, I guzzled down some hot tap water we had been carrying since Choix, praying it would not sicken me.
My handlebars now completely bent out of shape, we struggled endlessly through the remainder of the day until night quickly descended on us, reducing visibility to nothing. Passing by a small village, we were at least able to acquire a bottle of coke and another of fanta, but they had no water.
Mihai insisted on pushing onwards with more promises that it was only an hour left from most of the locals. We did, but did not make it very far when Mihai dumped his bike twice in a couple of meters. Deep in the canyon now, visibility gone, we made our way back to a small farmstead we had passed not long before to ask if we could camp on their property.
A young couple insisted that we could camp at their parents house. We were so happy to finally stop, we rolled our bikes right through the gates and met the parents, a blind old man and his wife who were taking care of the young couples two children. Telling them of our stories and sharing our drinks, we were enjoying ourselves with this little family, until out from the darkness a truck pulled up and four drunk men stumbled out. "Ah yes, they live here too, they rent part of the building."
Nervously, we greeting these men, all of which were very drunk and continuing to drink. We all sat around retelling our story. "Hey gringo, you want one of these beers?" one inquired as he chugged one after another down. "No gracias." Wanting to keep my wits about me, I watched them all warily as the family disappeared, we were left alone with them.
"How about some marijuana?" he inquired again. "Hey can you bring some to Canada?" Impossible. "Come on, want to buy a kilo? We have over a hundred, we grow it all over." Little did we realize at the time that this was also the area of Mexico that was reputed to have the most marijuana farmers in all of Mexico.
One of the men was extremely aggressive and set my nerves on end, as everytime we'd talk in English he would insist on knowing what was being said, if I'd laugh he would angrily ask why! It was time to set up the tent and get some rest.
Although rest was impossible, listening to them drink all night, playing with our bikes, even passing some cocaine through their noses. Cramped in a small tent together, stuffed with our gear, we lay awake for hours, until finally hearing silence, we could drift off a bit, only to awaken shortly afterwards, trying to get comfortable when every single part of our bodies was bruised, cut and battered.
Hang out with banditos, why not... Camp on the porch of marijuana farmers... why not!
]]>We lazed through the day expecting a quick two hour drive to Batopilas...
]]> Finally setting out around one in the afternoon from this beautiful colonial town, feeling alive but still very weak after combatting the fever all night, we rode north until we hit a dirt road. Asking around, it was confirmed that this was the road to Batopilas. Alright, we can handle a littler dirt road, onwards we push, taking it a bit slower.Problems arose everytime we hit an intersection, no signs existed out here, so asking directions we were told Batopilas was still four hours away. Checking the time, it being five, we decided to head back to town and tackle this in the morning, rested and refreshed.
]]>Pushing through the day, Mihai becomes almost completely exhausted from the heat, but tirelessly I drag him along with promises of what's to come. Tomorrow we will have a day of rest, and on friday we begin our descent into the Copper Canyon for some of the worlds best offroading!
Gone is the beautiful scenary of the pacific coast as we are surrounded by the bleak dessert, but also gone are the long and winding roads which have been replaced by beautifully straight and fixed highways.
Throughout the day, locked into a trance and the drugged with medication, I managed to somehow push my body past it's physical capabilities and at long last we arrived at El Fuerte, a couple hours drive from Batopilas, the entrance to the Copper Canyon. My entire body gives at last, as the fever finally takes complete hold of me and the best I can do is wash my face before completely collapsing in my bed, resting at last.
]]>Either way, exploring the factory with our billingual guide, I discovered some of the great things about Tequila and the process it was made, as well as tasting a few of their finer selections. I also couldn't resist buying the best tequila available, a type that was only available in very selected places, costing me a mere eighty dollars. Packing it into my cases, I treated it as my most precious cargo.
Things got worse as we left town towards noon, only to realize my overheating light continued to light, even on the highway. Panic set in. How could this be happening? Why me? Struggling with the fever, we made it back to Tequila to inspect the motorcycle, removing all of the covers and stripping it down. Mihai again saved the day, and against all common sense, and logic, BMW has placed the reservoir for the radiator below the actual radiator, meaning, while we thought since the reservior was full, the radiator should have been full as well. A simple solution of pouring in some water and I was back up and running, however in town the overheating light still persists as we also noticed the radiator fan has also failed. Minor problems, what is important is that it is running and safely!
Pulling on the throttle, we set our destination for Mazatlan for the night, and once again roll into town in complete darkness...
]]>I relaxed, sipping coffee, while waiting for them to ready my baby for the most difficult challenge to come, the Copper Canyon, but perhaps an even more difficult challenge will be the long and very cold ride home. Digging through the maps and books, I barely noticed as time slipped by... until finally the bike was ready, a four hour job! Back home, this would have cost eighty dollars a hour, plux taxes, plus parts... in Mexico, it cost me five dollars an hour, with a total of eighty dollars! What a bargain!
Shaking my new friends hand at BMW, off we sped to the hotel by two-thirty to pack up and head out to Tequila, one of my most anticipated destiantions! Blasting down the highway, even the overheating light barely worried me as I could hardly contain my excitement. Unfortunately they did not have a new radiator in stock, and it would have cost over three hundred dollars, so ignoring that, I have a new radiator overflow cap and a rebuilt front fork. Almost brand new!
An hour slips by as gradually a fever rises inside of me. I swear, I must be cursed. Arriving at Tequila, it's difficult to ignore the waves of dizziness and fatigue overtaking me. The body aching, we crawl into a hotel only to pass out not long afterwards for a much needed siesta. Easily our cheapest hotel yet, at thirteen dollars, it comes complete with stains, lack of a toilet seat and no AC or TV.
Struggling awake a few hours later, drenched in sweat and feeling very feverish, I laughed at the ironic situation. Downing some flu medicine, I forced myself to struggle into town to do honor to my favorite liquor. Finding a great nightclub in town, on the roof top of a building, we made our way to the bar and ordered up a couple drinks of tequila. Not quite expecting an army of school girls on the dance floor, most very young, fulfilling the most perverse and dirty mens dreams, I can't help but feel disgust... How dare they tempt us like that!
Slamming down another shot, blending this sweet liquid with my medication, I pray for a quick resolution to this fever.
]]>Relaxing and enjoying the day, I couldn't help but notice that there were kids everywhere! A big difference than back in North America, kids here are very loved and very playful, they are allowed to be kids. Back home, many don't even want kids - they are considered more of a chore - but they do bring such life to the city and people here!
Also, everything contains beef (carne) of some sort. I can't recall having ever eaten so much meat before in my life. Eggs and meat every breakfast, as there are not too many other options, carne asadas are everywhere for dinner. Not that we're not enjoying it, but it's just a huge difference on our diets, and everything is eaten out of corn totillas.
During the evening we were fortunate enough to catch a live dance competition in the town square and enjoyed some ice cream, a luxury I haven't had in quite some time.
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