TinStar: Texas to Uruapan

[TinStar]

Howdy folks! Been a while since I've done a ride report so I figured it's about time.

A couple of firsts on this ride - I've not been to Mexico on the GS, and this will be my first non-solo trip.

Hank, of "my 1995 GS has right at 475,000 miles on the clock" fame, runs his shop "MotoHank" in Dilley, Texas and had invited me to head south with him several times, but I was never able to coordinate. So when he invited me to go with him to the national BMW Rally in Uruapan, Mexico, I jumped at the chance. Hank has spent many years traveling in Mexico and Central America and I did what had to be done to make it happen.

Shortly before leaving, my GS began having intermittent issues of stumbling, and I spent my prep days chasing parts and ghosts. The mileage had dropped significantly to the 33 mpg range, and after new filters, pressure testing yada yada the consensus was to dope the fuel with as much injector cleaner as it could handle and hope for the best.


SUNDAY

I packed the bike, filled the tank with gas and Gumout and headed south for Laredo. I stopped in briefly at MotoHank and dropped off a GoPro housing, where a disassembled KTM 950 "GO!" was being reassembled by its owner, Cullen. He'd ridden in from Nevada for the trip, was doing some last minute prep to his bike. I stood around and pointed at things while he worked and Hank supervised. From there I headed south to Laredo in a fierce headwind, serious heat and setting sun to swap cash for pesos and get some rest for our early morning rendezvous. MPG to Laredo was an unbelievable 29… not looking good. I didn't sleep well.

Exciting pics from the Motel 6:

Stuttering Stuttgart Sow… but I still love ya babe

Note the copious amounts of Pepto. There's a lot more stashed all over the bike.

Would you believe me if I told you those shorts were originally white?

High tech, eco friendly, usage of air - note that the position of insoles not only dries them, but deflects a tornadic air current into the sweaty boots. Pure genius in action.

Ok, I admit they're boring, but what else do you do in a Motel 6 besides count all the other creepy people?


MONDAY 8 A. M.

Plan was to meet in the parking lot next to the motel at 8 am and head for the border to beat the crowds, but Hank called and had had a fuel pump failure a couple blocks from his shop and was running late, so we had breakfast and met at 9:30. Riders were Hank and his girlfriend Sherry, Cullen from Nevada on his KTM 950, Jimmy from Texarkana on a 1200GS and Rob from Michigan on his 650 GS twin. In addition we had two other riders, Jim from Michigan and his son Matthew from Arizona, who were going to cross with us and then part ways in Monterrey.

Cullen

Crossing the bridge, we had three pulled aside for inspections, and upon reaching the Aduana and Migracion offices we found few people in line. Benefits of a Monday morning. The process took a couple of hours and we were on our way into Nuevo Laredo, dodging and bobbing in traffic, seeing lots of armed polizia and federales, passing a large machine gun nest in front of the Holiday Inn Express.

We took off for Monterrey at high speed, about 140 miles away, and into a strong headwind. I watched as my fuel gauge went slowly down, my stomach sinking at the same rate. I didnt think I would make it, and looking at the bleak landscape all the way, I was already trying to figure out how long it would take on the side of the tollway before the gang would be able to come back and siphon gas for me.

The air was so hazy - whether smog or natural - that I was barely able to make out the shapes of mountains as we entered the region.

Just as my tank light came on at 115 miles, I began seeing signs of the city and we finally rolled in to a Pemex and filled up and ate a quick lunch.

I was wrestling with continuing since the bike was getting such poor mileage, but after filling with Pemex Premium and heading for Saltillo the gas gauge slowed its descent, and by the time we turned south towards Real De Catorce, the bike was beginning to feel like its old self. Filled up in Linares and afterwards I could tell the bike was getting straight again. I was finally able to relax a bit and check the scenery.

We raced south, passing innumerable "Vulca" or tire changing sheds and shacks, stacks of bagged onions or lemons on the inside lane, horses and sheep grazing the medians along the highway. At the speeds we were traveling 80-90, you need to be alert at all times.

We raced past a freshly rolled vehicle in the center median, the bodies having been drug out and surrounded by a crowd of locals, feeling that terrible sense of guilt in knowing there's nothing you can do.

It seemed we stopped for 25 toll stations, and I was frankly beginning to wonder if I'd changed enough cash into pesos at the rate I was handing it out.

The beautiful desert mountains rolled past as we flew along, with no time for photos in the race against a setting sun.

We finally reached the cut off for Cerda north of Matehuala, where we topped off on gas before turning onto the 12 mile cobblestone road up into the mountains. The road was an amazing site to see, and the vistas into the setting sun were beautiful. I snapped a quick pic while riding but the cobbles made it a challenge.

We did switchbacks up into the mountains until reaching the tunnel which leads into the old town of Real De Catorce. We waited for a truck to come through before paying a 20 peso toll and driving through.

I can't remember the length, but the old tunnel was several kilometers long, dark and musty. It was a great ride.

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cLEq0xFRD-0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Bursting out into the light and into the old town was like stepping back in time. Steep cobblestone streets and stone buildings, street vendors and crisp mountain air. The tiny streets are steep and rough, but it's a beautiful place. We found the hotel just about dusk, showered and went out for a meal in the darkness.

It was dark but here are a few shots

Real De Catorce is a spectacular place and anxious for daylight to explore!

 

[TinStar]

Awakened to the sounds of donkeys braying, roosters crowing, muffled voices and rattling pickup trucks on the rough cobblestone streets. Walked out into the early morning light and watched the children walking with mothers to school. Bleary eyed to say the least, having gone to sleep way too late and then being awakened by the TV coming on at 3 am at full volume.

Cullen and I had shared a room. Poor guy.

Our plan was to leave at 10 a.m., giving us time to do some exploring in the town after breakfast. There was mucho dawdling, mucho cafe' olla and cafe' con leche, sweet bread and a wonderful breakfast - on Mexico time. Didn't have enough time to really explore and photograph, as you could easily spend days doing such. But in the short time we had, we wandered the steep streets and I huffed and puffed my way up and down in the 9000' elevation.

A few pics from the wandering:

Church floor

Let sleeping dogs lie

Remains of the night

We were geared up and ready to go by 10:30, and jumped the curb onto the polished cobblestones and wound up and down the tight streets until we reached the tunnel.

I fired up the GoPro and got some of the ride through the town and tunnel. As soon as I get a chance to upload it I'll add it in here…

REALLY COOL VIDEO COMING SOON RIGHT HERE :deal

The weather has been magnificent, stinging hot sun and crisp cool air with wonderful nights.

We wound back down the mountain and headed west for Zacatecas, which compared to yesterday will be a short day. We hit the road in force, Cullen quite a ways behind for a while. His KTM developed a problem with oil coming out the breather tube and coating the engine. Hasn't been serious but he's having to attend cleaning the oil off and has been creating ways of collecting the oil to minimize the spray.

We traveled at speeds ranging from 80-90 down into the altiplano, my eyes stinging in the crisp air despite having sunglasses and shield down. They were, in fact working like windshield washers and spraying my sunglasses. Sheesh. We motored on passing miles and miles of cactus, shepherds and sheep, road crews who waved and cheered as we rocketed past, me giving a big thumbs up as we passed.

To Zacatecas

We gassed up somewhere and Rob's 650, which has no trouble staying with the bigger bikes, had developed a disconcerting wobble at times. After a thorough check-over we believed it to be caused by the larger aftermarket windshield, which probably was not designed with those speeds in mind.

Hank's warning before leaving the gas stop was simply, "Stay right against the next bike's rear tire when we hit Zacatecas or you'll get split off by cabs immediately and never find the downtown plaza." Ok, great. My position has been tail of a five bike train, and I wasn't relishing the thought of trying to stay with them in insane traffic.

With that thought in mind, we reached the city and immediately the fun began. In a nutshell, that is the craziest high speed traffic riding I've ever done, trying to stick with Jimmy's rear tire through the mess, eventually just clearing my mind and charging past bumpers and blaring horns. As we came very fast down into a traffic circle, I hit both brakes, but felt my rear brake pedal go limp. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Rear brake non-existent.

To say my "Threat Level Midnight" pucker factor went to "Black Hole" in an instant is an understatement. I was praying the front didn't fail.

Thank God the front brake continued to work, but the rear never came back. We had to continue the insanity into the downtown centro district and I tried to decide whether I'd lay it down or simply try to slow as much as possible and aim for the side cases of Jimmy's 1200 in case the front brake failed as well. I tried several more times but the rear pedal had no pressure.

In the midst of the traffic race, a transit policeman pointed at me and blew his whistle for me to pull over, but I simply nailed the throttle and shot past him, to be frank, I didn't give a ****.

We finally pulled up in front of the main plaza, each of the guys parking the bikes and getting off with increasing degrees of sweat and red faces. Hank and Rob, both in the front of the pack, said "Hey that wasn't bad at all!". Jimmy calmly said, "You guys weren't riding the tail of the dragon…" Truer words were never spoken LOL.

I told Hank about the brakes, and checked again but the pedal pressure was back and pads appeared fine. It's possible I boiled the fluid, since we were really getting a workout, but I didn't use the rear much. Honestly I've drug the rear brake for much longer periods on Colorado mountain passes. Oh well, we'll see tomorrow.


Cullen and his KTM - seeing this wrenching scene on a daily basis

The view from our room really sucked

We checked into a nice hotel, then decided to take two cabs to the Museum of Masks and then up to the top of La Bufa which overlooks the city. We grabbed two cabs, and immediately our's turned the opposite direction of Hank's cab, and after a few minutes Rob, who is a linguistics genius and fluent in many, many languages asked the driver if he knew the way to the museum. He responded "no" then took us on a wild drive to the cab headquarters, running inside for information we guessed, then tore off into the city again. He finally stopped in the middle of the street, blocking traffic to go talk to another cabbie, then headed off yet again. We eventually reached the museum, which had closed since we were late.

So... we grabbed two more taxis and drove to the top of the mountain, enjoying the views and then took the cable car down and walked to the hotel.

View from the top

We eventually walked to an Argentinian restaurant and ate steaks in the evening air of the plaza. From there we grabbed two more cabs and went to get cafe' at the bar of the Quinta Real Hotel. What an amazing place it was. Literally built on the old bull fighting arena, its bar being the chamber where the bulls were kept.

Crazy cab ride!

Quinta Real - an amazing hotel

More tomorrow amigos! If my brakes work…

 

[TinStar]

Well, today has been a long one, and I'm a little goofy at the moment so bear with me :norton

Did not get much sleep in Zacatecas, due to staying up til 2 am and then got up at 6 and loaded the ride report. We were to leave the garage at 9 am sharp.

Zacatecas is a city that reminds me of Rome in many ways, the only city I can compare it to since I've not been to Spain. It's a place that needs to be explored and discovered over several days, but I really liked it, despite the intensity of the traffic at the time we arrived.

At 6 am, the streets were completely deserted, and the cool air felt nice. I had planned to seek cafe' on the street, but decided to use the hotel breakfast bar instead. I was under the impression that breakfast was included, and after coffee and the ride report I walked out, only to be chased by the waiter as if I were a thief - for 22 pesos. All I had was a 500 peso bill, after all the tolls we'd paid had used up the smaller bills, and he turned his nose up. I went to the room and scraped up 21 pesos in coins, being 1 peso shy and upon paying him swore I'd return yet again with a peso. We had paid 1700 pesos for the room, and you'd think they could spare a cup of cafe' but "no" :lol3

Have to laugh as both Cullen and I have been squeezed for pesos in smaller denominations, and at gas stops we swap and loan pesos back and forth both for gas and the ever present toll booths. Showing a 500 peso bill seems to scare folks and they refuse to accept them. The tolls have ranged significantly in price so you never know if you've got enough small bills or big ones

We were loaded and idling by about 9:15 am, my mind wondering about the brake issue as we climbed the steep ramp up and into the streets, still subdued at that time of day. I tried extremely hard to stay off the brakes with gearing, expecting failure at any moment. We eventually made it out of the city and onto the highways heading for Aguascaliente at high speed. I rode a ways behind as we progressed until the brakes proved. When we reached Aguas, we fell into the thick traffic and narrow streets of the centro district, searching for the way south to Leon. Our plan had been to reach Leon, then go west and catch 37 down to Uruapan to get off the tollways.

Lets just say that there was no Aguas and plenty of Caliente. It was hot, we were sweating and seemed to wander back and forth in the town until finally a cabby got us going the correct direction. He also warned us that 37 was loaded with trucks and we should stay on the tollways to Morelia instead. With the heat and traffic, I had forgotten to worry about the brakes which were working better, just a little weaker than usual.

Entering Aguas

When we finally broke free of town and got going south, the wind felt wonderful and my temp gauge returned to 5 from it's 9 position idling in traffic.

Descending into the volcanic region near Morelia, it was very cool to see a volcano off to the left, with either clouds or steam covering the top. The region had much water and hills, usual in an area of calderas. Quite a change from the desert scrub we'd been in.

When we finally reached Morelia, I had the ride of my life. Traffic thickened, and again being on the tail it was a major workout to stay with Hank. There was a huge traffic jam that slowed to a stall, in which a three lane road suddenly held five lanes of traffic. The lane splitting began, at which point we all eventually were separated. It was my first time to ride like that, literally pushing your way in and out of cars, squeezing within an inch or less between buses, cabs, cars and semis.

If ever I wish I'd had my GoPro helmet cam on and running, it was then. I would see Hank several cars ahead in one lane, Cullen passing in a ditch to the right, Jimmy behind me at one moment, then ahead in another lane the next. I'd cut between semis and ride the right side ditch and see no one, then see Rob passing two lanes over and no sign of anyone. Then be wedged and going nowhere only to see Hank pass from behind three "lanes" over, me having no idea how he ended up behind. It was true craziness.

Eventually the bottleneck cleared and we all seemed to morph back together. Then the real fun began.
A couple miles up the road the traffic thickened into another mass, and we again ended up separated and wrestling, only this time the traffic moving at some speed. I have to admit, the adrenaline grabs you and it becomes such a rush you forget about the dangers and just go for it. I have not had such a rush since I raced motocross long ago. Amidst this chaos I'll simply say I saw mirrors knocked off cars, paint scraped and other similar things… not by me I'll add

I finally broke free and got moving again only to see Rob parked and waiting on the side. I pulled over to talk to him and another pulled up behind me. We assumed the two others were long gone ahead of us and decided to ride on a short ways. We stopped at a crazy intersection and were trying to decide what to do when from behind we heard yelling "Go to the right, go to the right!!!" I did a hard right and was passed by the group and a cab in hard acceleration. We weaved and bobbed, eventually getting to a place where we pulled over for gas. When I took my jacket off, water literally ran out. We were all beat and just rested like sweaty zombies. I found out that the cab had been chasing someone.

Weird thing is, I totally enjoyed the experience.

We got moving again for Uruapan, leaving the volcanic region and quickly climbed into hillls, trees, and pines. It was surreal after so much time in the desert areas.

The "fun" continued as we had to race to get to the rally before dark and get the hotel, get registered and attend the event. With that in mind, we followed the typical rules of the road in Mejico. Slower vehicles to the right and passing at speed to the left. In the undulating hills and mountains, we flew along, flashing past semi's, cars and anything slow.

Most memorable pass of my day? Well there were several, but I think the one that takes the cake was the uphill pass I made of a huge tourist coach, which decided to suddenly pull out to pass a slow semi on the uphill, which forced me to pass the coach and semi simultaneously, me completely on the far shoulder of the opposite lane. I won't mention the speed nor the oncoming traffic.

To put all this in perspective, I ride safely and conservatively generally, but I have never ridden in such a hooligan fashion in my life. I will say that you don't have much of a choice at times, as people pass you at speeds well over a hundred, on blind uphills and corners, and you have oncoming trucks and cars in your lane passing other folks. You simply move over as they flash past. Its a weirdly dangerous and effective dance, that somehow works.

Finally upon reaching Uruapan, as we pulled into town there was a group of folks waving and cheering for us and it was pretty cool. As we got deeper into the town, I could tell it was very different than the others, more of what I'd imagine a Central or South American town would be like. The people looked different, the town was older and dirtier, but I liked the feeling.

As we motored along the streets, people would stare and wave. They were not used to seeing the bikes and riders. We had smaller motorcycles pull alongside to ride with us and smile. When we reached the main square, there were large parking areas filled with BMW's and a street literally lined bumper to bumper with Federal Police trucks for an entire block.

We have continually passed through road blocks by the military, state and federal police, having been pulled over by masked men in the black uniforms to check papers and look us over, but the police were out in full force for the rally.

We eventually found the hotel and a gaggle of BMW's on the street. We pulled in weary, worn and windbeaten. I pulled my helmet off, sweaty hair hanging in my face and got off the bike. People on the sidewalks were taking pictures of us and standing around. I turned around and a young lady ran up to me and in spanish asked if she could have her picture taken with me. I was so shocked, so smelly and so sweaty I simply burst out laughing. Her boyfriend asked me to put my arm around her and smile and he composed the shot to frame us with the bike.
That was certainly a "first" amongst a day of "firsts."

The hotel staff were excited to help us, and as we checked in and generally sorted things more and more riders began arriving. Cullen and I dragged gear in and then rode down the street to the secure parking garage, where he began checking the success of his crankcase breather hose collection bottle. He'd rigged a coke bottle, stuffed with a rag to collect his oil residue. It had worked well indeed.

Hard to see but the upside down coke bottle stuffed with a rag

I have a lot of pics of Cullen tinkering on his bike, but it's very well sorted and he really maintains it - didn't want to give the impression he's having bike issues constantly.
And speaking of bike issues, my GS has begun to run much better. From a low of 27 mpg from Laredo to Monterrey, the bike has steadily climbed to 39 mpg - and that 39 is at sustained 85 mph for 120-150 mile stretches. With the wind drag of my height, weight and fully loaded bike I'll take that any day. We have been at altitudes of 6000 to 9000', and my GS always gets great mileage in thin air, but I'm gettin' happy :lol3 As to the brake issue I'm getting some weird ABS faults and resets, but the brakes are working, both being a bit weaker. I'm truly hoping the fluid has just gone past its prime and a good flush and fill will solve the issue. At any rate, today's insanity tested them well and I didn't lose the rear, though I worked hard not to use it.

After check-in, Hank and I wandered over to register, ogling the vendors, bikes and multitudes of riders. Of course I don't have a clue of what's being said since I speak no spanish, but smiling a lot seems to help. Seriously though, the people have been so nice.

If you look closely you'll see the street is lined bumper to bumper with Federal Police trucks with belt fed machine guns. We assume they were there for the rally

Check in

Snagged some swag

After registration they bussed us to the main event at another hotel - entertainment, fresh cooked tamales and enchiladas, drinks and local music.

We mingled and had a great time, despite the fatigue of a very long and very stressful day. I met so many nice folks, who went out of their way to accommodate me by speaking in English as best as they could.

Truly a wild, woolly and rich day.

 

[TinStar]

Awoke very tired from the long day, activities and an apparent gang war in my stomach from two food items that had differences.

Sorry for the lack of better pics and better wit, but we've been pressed hard each day with so much to do and riding so hard.

The plan was to be in front of the main hotel at 8:30 am for the "adventure" route ride, and we were told to strip off all cases and be ready to ride. I wasn't sure if I'd make it since the gangland gut war was still occurring but I pressed on.

Two groups had assembled, one group for a road trip and the other for the dirt ride. I must admit I was feeling a bit like a little poor boy, as my 1100 was solo amongst an ocean of 1200's and GSA's. In fact aside from Hank's 1100 I've only seen 2 others out of hundreds. But I digress.

While waiting in the line of bikes, I was approached by a big guy - Mark from Colorado - who said he recognized my bike from ADV ride reports. He'd ridden from near Aspen and over ice on Independence Pass on his way south to get to the rally.

Attending a Mexican rider's meeting with no Spanish language skills was an interesting affair. I understood absolutely nothing in the 15-20 minute information discourse, EXCEPT when the leader pantomimed a front wheel stoppie. I was glad to understand something, however would stoppies be required or banned? Que sera sera.

As with all group events, it turned into a mass exodus MotoGP through the tiny streets at high speed, until we finally met at a Pemex. Once again I regretted not having the GoPro going to capture this event. One thing about this type of group stuff is you never really know when things will happen and typically have no time to even get gloves on before the race takes off. Add in no understanding of spanish and you can imagine.

I've coined a new term for riding this way - I call it MexiCross :deal

We roadraced up into beautiful twisty blacktop roads going into pine forests and cold air in the mountains, until we reached a village and roared through, the citizens somewhat stunned. Twisting through the little streets we exited the village and began climbing a narrow winding road passing old lumber trucks, riders on horseback and workers in fields. In short order the road became dirt, twisting though pines and mountain vistas. Of course with 90 bikes on the ride it became somewhat of a dusty trail ride, as you can imagine. I held back my temptation to blow past slower folks and be content to ride in a group. Other than the dust it was a great forest road, nothing difficult but definitely fun.

Eventually we came down into a valley where we were stopped the leaders and they pointed out the Parcutin volcano. We chatted, took pics, looked at GS's that had tumbled and had parts hanging off, etc. After a bit we were given the signal to go, and I was about 5th in line. Where we had stopped was the beginning of about 50 yards of black volcanic sand, and almost immediately the lead bike went down, followed by a second and third. I got past and in my rear view mirror I saw GS's dropping like flies. I chuckled and then hit a random patch of sand and almost lost it myself :lol3

Mark

Shortly thereafter, we entered a huge lava field, the tiny dirt and rock road undulating up, down and around the flows. It was really a great place to ride and it was quite a sensation riding solo up and down amidst huge black lava. Here and there you'd pass memorials to the dead. It was somewhat surreal. In the distance an old stone church tower stood. After a while in the fields we reached a sharp turn with an arrow, and followed it into a 50 yard stretch of black sand that led to a tiny village. There were some bikes and reps there with water, beer and energy drinks.


Texas Black Bear riding a tricycle

Local Indian residents were prepared for us and had fires burning, hand made blue corn tortillas and wares to sell. The group continued to grow and filled the parking area. Just behind the shelters you could see the old colonial church tower rising from the black lava. I scrambled up and into the field to an amazing site. The remains of an old colonial church buried in lava. The volcano had erupted in 1948 and buried the area including the town and church.

After an hour or so, we left and headed in a salmon-like stream into Zacan, where we grouped and then rode to Anguahan. Riding through the old town was a lot of fun. The residents watched from windows and doors - a parade they'd probably never seen before. A huge stream of bikes and riders in their dusty town.

When we arrived at the event there were already a couple hundred bikes, and huge tents set up. We were to spend the afternoon there, and it was quite a shindig. All the tables were filled or reserved, but after standing like a lost group of puppies Rob, Cullen and myself were finally invited to sit with a group of riders from Guadalajara, the "Elite" club.

We were fed a constant stream of local food, prepared by the local Indians in the traditional method. I eventually realized that we were to sit and they brought course after course after course of different foods. While we lounged and ate, we were shown local customs, dance and songs.

Around 5 the prizes had been given away and we all fired up and headed back for Uruapan. The blacktop roads were tight, twisty and I swear one curve had to have been almost 360º as we wound down at high speed. And I mean high speed.

One thing I can say is that the riders who come here can really ride. It was surprising to see 1200 GSA's tossed around and driven so fast on both dirt and pavement. I've been really impressed with the rider skill and seriousness overall.


GoPro users will recognize this shot LOL - I must have an hour of these 2 second clips checking the camera

Got back to the hotel, shook out some dust and after a shower we wandered and ate some local food

This area is beautiful, the blacktop roads are in excellent condition and are very twisty, and the people have been very friendly. Loving it.

 

[TinStar]

Route for the day was into the "Lagos" region on blacktop only. En masse, several hundred riders left downtown Uruapan at 9 sharp, escorted initially by the police through downtown. I ended up separated from our crew and somehow managed to be in the front 10 riders or so, until I had to pull in for fuel, watching the stream of riders racing past. While in the station, Cullen pulled in on his KTM, both of us low from yesterday's ride. We exited together and stayed in sight for a while.

Observing the controlled chaos

Quickly we headed up high into the mountains, the air quite cold. We were shrouded in low clouds, sunglasses and shield covered thickly with moisture. The rides here are extremely fast, and on the narrow roads with fog and multiple bikes, it was somewhat intense for a bit. The moisture stayed heavy and shielded the sun for much of the early portion of the ride, also obscuring the scenery high in the mountains.

Eventually it burned away, revealing great views and beautiful countryside. We rode fast and passed through small towns, jumping the ever present topes on the GS's, the street bikes having to slow almost to a stop. It was very interesting seeing the native Indian population watch as we passed through town, the smell of wood smoke in the air. Scenes of fields of corn, an old man with a machete, men riding burros along the road.

One thing I need to say about the BMW clubs here is that the riders take their ownership of the bikes very seriously. They are first class riders, riding very fast and aggressive, solo or two-up. The bikes are new, in great condition and the riding gear is very high quality. I have been so impressed with the level of quality, skill, professionalism and friendliness of the riders and club organizers here. Absolutely first rate.

Having said that, it's hard to explain to someone, myself included, how fast and aggressively they ride. Not hooliganism, just skilled and fast.
As Jimmy said, in the U. S. we'd be put under the jail for riding this way. Here it's just normal. I don't know how well I'll be able to adjust to riding back home again LOL. My only frustration is that the riding and time schedule is so aggressive I have no time for photos, instead just roadracing and concentrating intensely.

As we rode higher and higher, the roads became tight and twisty, with one section several miles long that is one of the best roads I've ridden. The sharp turns were banked as if built for bikes and it was like a dream riding through forests with views of volcanos and mountains.

We came into a larger town, don't know the name, which led us up very high on a very narrow road. I looked to my right to see a sheer drop off and a fantastic lake below, with volcanic mountains surrounding. The view took my breath away, but I had to stay focused on riding.

We finally ended up in the town of Santa Clara, bikes parking all around the central plaza. There was a little market, loaded with sugar skulls and candies in preparation for the upcoming holiday, where Rob and I got an excellent cappucino. We made friends with an Italian rider named Tommas, whom in later conversation I found out was a nephrologist in Mexico. Cullen came in a bit later and we all mixed with the other several hundred riders. The town was busy preparing for the upcoming "Day of the Dead", and there were beautiful candies made of sugar and other ritual offerings.

Making the skull

You can imagine seeing this stream of bikes passing through small towns created quite a stir - it probably took 45 minutes to an hour for all to pass through, as we were spread out very far

A government official from the town gave a welcoming speech, standing on the pegs of Rob's 650, after which we moved into the huge plaza for a giant group photo. There was a native music and dance demonstration while we cooled off, and then the announcement was made that we would be leaving in a few minutes.

I began readying my gear and GoPro's at the bike, my long hair loose from having lost the rubber band for my ponytail in the wind, when I felt a tap and turned around to see a cute little girl and her brother dressed in their school clothes. She asked in very good English if I was the rider from Texas. I said "Yes ma'am I am" and smiled. She beamed and said excitedly "I was born in Texas!" I laughed and asked her where, to which she responded "Dallas!". When I told her I had lived there many years she just giggled. I leaned over and shook her hand and told her my name, and her brother excitedly told me his. I asked their mother if it was OK if they sat on my bike, and they got very excited, but she said they needed to run home and get their camera. They were afraid we would be gone by the time they got back, so I took a pic of them. It was very sweet, and sure enough, I had to leave before they got back.

As an aside, I guess seeing a big Texan with a ponytail in this neck of the woods is rare. People stare at me like I'm an alien and I've been asked several times to take a picture with them. Really funny.

Taking the group picture

One of the best things aside from the riding is the groups of kids and children screaming and yelling and waving as we passed through. Seeing a stream of 600 motorcycles passing through the little villages is a once in a lifetime event.

A vivid memory from today was seeing a very old Indian woman dressed in traditional garb literally jumping up and down with joy like a little kid and laughing out loud, throwing her arms in the air as we passed.

From Santa Clara we rode to Zirahuen, on the lake, where another event was set up and waiting. The area is famous for copper mining and copper crafts. They had a furnace set up and were smelting copper, heating the disc in a furnace, pullling it out and 4 guys hammering with sledges in perfect rythm. We were served several varied courses of local food and were serenaded by musicians and dance. This lasted through the afternoon until the raffles for prizes and a 1200 GSA was given away. From there Rob and I headed for Uruapan and arrived late in the day.


Copper queens greeting us

Roughing it

Deep fried minnows - delicioso

Rob holding one for the camera lol

Possibly the best tasting chicken I've ever had

The lake and a wonderful breeze which kept us cool all afternoon while we ate and watched the dancing and listened to music.

With this region being the copper rich area, we saw demonstrations of copper forming and such. Mark, being a chef, snagged an entire set of copper pots at what he described as ridiculously low prices and I chuckled at the thought of him carrying them all on his 1200 GS back to Colorado.

Hammering the copper

Liar, liar pants on fire

The pattern of the event here is to ride very hard for a long time, then have a leisurely time relaxing and enjoying friendship, food and music. Today I was able to get some GoPro footage squeezed out, but not of some of the best riding or tight streets.

The roads today were absolutely superb, as was the food and friendship


A little GoPro - unfortunately I didn't get footage of the fast and beautiful roads, but here's a bit from the start and the entrance into the event just to show something. The riders are bunched up in these, but in fact we were spread far apart in the long and fast 3 hour ride to Zirahuen
VIDEO COMING SOON


Rob and I in easy traffic after getting back to Uruapan
VIDEO COMING SOON

 

[TinStar]

No rides were planned for Saturday, just a short bus excursion to the National Park within the city, followed by another excursion to a "factory".

We were due to leave at 9 am, however word came that there had been an hour delay and I found myself free for 30 minutes to wander around and take some pics.

I needed coffee and found a little coffee shop just around the corner.
My barristas

Liberty Bell got nuttin' on you

Throughout the town they were decorating for the Day of the Dead

I wandered around a bit, cup of hot Jose' in one hand and a camera requiring two hands in the other. Somehow I managed to not pour hot coffee down my shirt, but I sure I looked like El Dweebo del Norte.

A few shots:

I finally ended up at the buses in front of the Plaza Hotel and found the gang. We were driven a short distance to the National Park, within the city itself, and it turned out to be a beautiful rain forest setting with lots of running water and fountains. Very beautiful place and I was surprised it had been able to remain intact for so long.

Pics

Note the figure mid picture - he had just dove (dived? diven? doven? take your pick) from a tree limb about 50 feet over the little stream into a small deep hole. In the water. Not just a small deep hole.

More tree leapers were found

The crystal clear streams were full of drowned grubs - not sure if it was mass suicide or accidental drownings

Day of the Grateful Dead outfit

The corn lady

From there we were taken by bus to an old fabric mill that has been turned into a museum on the top floor, a working fabric mill in the basement and a huge conference center.

Our bus featured anti-lanesplitting devices

No latte's in sight, but plenty of Corona Light

Each place we went, all the tortillas were hand made by the ladies. I was told these particular tortillas used black corn which is evidently rare. The other tortillas used blue corn, which I was told is actually a blue fungus which gives the color. All I can say is a lot of fungus died for the cause.

Hank, Sherry and I explored the building and I got stuck in the basement, mesmerized at the step back in time and the incredible photo ops there.

Wandering a bit I bumped into Mark from Colorado, and we hung out for a bit. Cullen arrived as well and the two began planning their return to the States.

BMW had rider's clinics going, but since they were in Spanish we just sat in the shade and acted cool. Well, as cool as "heavyset" middle aged guys can act...

In a bit Hank swung by and said "Comida" so we wandered up to the main hall and were ushered in past a red R1200GSA - the one to be given away - and were handed more swag from babes. I got a black corduroy Negro Modelo hat, a free bag, and some other stuff. As usual the hat is too small for my fat head and simply falls off if I lean. Oh well what's new.

Hank and Cullen had gotten not one but two caps from the Corona girls, a green one resembling a Che Guevarra hat minus the red star and a super cool black one.

Eventually, we found a table and the slow but sure process of continuous feeding began. The weird thing is that at each event, with a hundred tables or more, we always ended sitting next to the same guys every time. Even weirder is the fact that I had the same waiter at each function. Poor guy.

We were regaled with music, Indian dances and much more.

My thrill of the evening came when standing in the free ice cream line. Suddenly, two young beautiful girls butted in line in front of me, and it turns out they were the two girls from Zirahuen who were wearing the crowns and red, white and green dresses. I called them the Copper Queens since they had represented Zirahuen and wore some amazing copper jewelry and crowns. One acted quite regal and the other a little apologetic. I didn't care. BTW they both went for ice cream and cheesecake.

With sweaty palms and our acceptance speeches planned, the drawings arrived, eventually ending with the 1200 GSA. Sadly, none of us won, but my speech was so well written I'm saving it for next year.

Waiter pics

Once we realized we hadn't won, there was a mad rush for the door, but once in the lobby realized that the riding photos were for sale… they were sorted by day and motorcycle type. Day 1, R1100 GS and R1150 GS. Mine were easy to find since there were literally only 3 bikes in the stack.

Back to the room, where Cullen and I packed. I decided to leave all my local sweets and nuts and thingamabobs for the cleaning lady and got ready to leave Sunday morning. Cullen and Mark had a vague plan which seemed to head north, but Cullen had met a guy at the dinner who had a 10 room house in Gudalajara or someplace and had insisted he and Mark stay at his place.

More tomorrow!

 

[TinStar]

Woke up early and went outside early to load bike, the town still asleep in the cool morning air. The day before, Mexico had their time change, but I was still on previous time. A few other riders were up and loading for the trip home.
Cullen got his bike loaded and took off a little before us, to meet Mark and head home, while we readied for Taxco.

We'd all been impressed with the number of women riders in the group. This lady rode a 1200GS or GSA - can't remember which. Later it was pointed out to me she had been featured in a BMW documentary

Hank had to get back to Dilley by midweek, but Jimmy and Rob had more time and wanted to stay longer in Mexico. Hank agreed to get them to Taxco before heading north. I was torn as to stay with Hank or continue on with R & J.

At any rate, our route out of Uruapan entailed going through Morelia, and the thought made me shudder after the hot fiasco we'd been involved in on the last trip through. Jimmy was quick to say he had no desire to go through that again. No choice, however, but this time we went through the city center and it was no problemo. Traffic was light and the old city was beautiful.

We rode past a huge aqueduct and stopped for pics. Very pretty town indeed. From Morelia we headed on a high speed run towards Toluca, at some point getting onto Hwy 15.

Highway 15 quickly climbed high into the mountains, with fog, mist, huge pines and spectacular views. However, the twisting and turning road turned out to be an outstanding motorcycle road. Rob and I stayed together for what must have been 60 miles of intense twisties that would make a passenger hurl. This went on for so long, in 2nd and 3rd gear only, that both hands went numb and forearms began to cramp. That was the longest sustained twisties I've ever done and eventually I almost, almost, almost wished for it to straighten out LOL. Add to it the occasional cars and trucks to pass, cows and sheep standing on the edge and big, fresh cow patties in the middle of blind curves and it was quite fun.

A section of 15 to give you an idea - per Hank :evil

I was sweating, scraping pegs and boots, watching sparks coming off Rob's Happy Trails panniers, and feeling like a ****** when suddenly I was passed by a guy on a BMW 650 scooter. He went past me and Rob like we were sitting still, and didn't even spill his Latte'. Now I hate to admit this, but both of the days we did road rides, I was passed by a BMW 650 scooter. It was not only me, but Rob, Jimmy, Cullen and Hank were all humbled by the scooter guy. Both days. All I can say is that if it had been the BMW "City" scooter with the goofy bubble roof, I'd just have to kill myself. Thankfully it wasn't.

After what seemed hours - and it was - I saw a group of riders ahead at a lookout point and pulled in to find Hank and Jimmy, having just pulled in. There were a large number of the BMW riders from Mexcio City there - the president of the club and other elites. We'd been running with the big boys and rubbing elbows with swank. As usual.

They were just ahead of us all the way up. And there sat that **** scooter.
Hank said the scooter had blown past him as well and he had to set a blistering pace to keep it in sight at times. I found the rider and it turned out he was the guy who was sponsored by BMW to teach the riding clinics. We all felt better realizing he was a world class rider and that's our story and we're sticking to it.

El Diablo Del Scootero

Super nice guy - the BMW riding instructor who spanked us mightily


Jimmy had just finished cleaning about an 1/8 inch deep layer of brake dust off his rear rim. Apparently he'd used a new brand of brake pads that wore quickly :evil

Bad pic but shows a little of the elevation

From the top down, the ride was a little easier, though still fast and furious. Eventually we ended up in Valle de Bravo, a beautiful town on a lake. It's called the "Little Switzerland" of Mexico. We came in on rough cobblestone streets through droves of locals, eventually winding down a very, very steep cobblestone street that led into the main area by the lake. All I can say is if that cobblestone street had been wet we'd all have come out of it with brakes locked going 70 mph. Of course the pic doesn't capture the angle...

We were all liking the looks of this place and Hank checked with the cops and others about a hotel. There was a huge arts festival going on and much of the place was booked. Hank eventually returned with a teenage kid and told him to hop on back of my bike and lead us to the hotel. We rode out of the town and around to the other side of the lake before finding the place. A quaint, screaming yellow place that overlooked a boat yard that overlooked the lake. But it was home.

We washed and caught a cab back to town, having dinner and then wandering. There was an arts festival in town, a large stage had been set up and a woman violinist was playing to the crowd. Her music was beautiful, though she seemed a bit over-dramatic, and the stage show was excellent. We watched for a while, then wandered off in the dark to find an old church we'd seen in the daylight. Up and down the cobblestone streets in the darkness, the sounds of beautiful violin music echoing about.

Oh the suffering…

Looking at routes to Taxco on the Garmin software

We found the church, then wandered further up into the little town, passing sights and sounds, disappearing in time. It was surreal in many ways.

We ended up in yet another plaza, in front of the largest church there, the place filled with people listening to a flamenco singer and guitarists on a smaller stage of the festival. The plaza was packed and we wandered around, eventually the flamenco dance beginning on stage. The crowd was enraptured.

The air was cold and crisp, the streets ancient and filled with interesting light, patterns, voices and people. In the darkness we walked, to the echoes of The Who's "Teenage Wasteland" being played on violin.

 

[TinStar]

Morning over Valle de Bravo

We were up and on the bikes around 9, headed for downtown Valle de Bravo and breakfast for the road

The night before, Rob and Hank had looked at routes to Taxco, the original plan being for Jimmy and Rob to go on to Taxco while we turned north. After some discussion with locals, the route Rob and Jimmy had planned on taking was up in the air. Apparently there had been robberies or rumors of such on the road, but information was dated and sketchy. The only real information being that it would be full of truck traffic. After looking at the maps at where to go after Taxco, it appeared R & J would be too far out of the way for their schedule, so they decided to hang with us yet another day before splitting.

We had a great, relaxed breakfast on a balcony overlooking the lake. Each meal in Mexico has been leisurely. It's been nice not having to swallow an Egg McMuffin whole, while simultaneously snorting a cup of coffee through a nostril and climbing on the bike. Actually its been nice not even seeing an Egg McMuffin.

The two cops spent a lot of time looking at my bike

My breakfast… yum!

Then they took it away and gave it to Sherry and gave me this instead

Still yummy but the hot bowl it came in was more interesting


Orchids everywhere

The view and the breeze called my name, and I told the gang to go ahead without me. Said I'd meet them in Vera Cruz at the Rally next year cuz I wasn't leaving the balcony. Rob reminded me that gringos come south, meet a lovely chiquita, move there and then try to survive by starting a bar or copy center, only for it to fail...
True, so I decided to go with them.

We saddled up in our stanky gear, once again trailing through a beautiful town and up to the faster roads leading ever to the horizon. We were on high beautiful roads until reaching the tollway heading north for Queretaro. From there it was hot, long and tiring. After days of 85 mph buffeting, it begins to tire you. You notice pressure points in your jacket, that now have become irritating. You notice things about your helmet that bug you, and you decide you're going to get all new gear - like that Rukka jacket you tried on at the vendors booth in Uruapan. Hey, $1800 for a jacket? Who cares!! Woohoo! And that nice Schuberth C3 helmet with comm system - $1300? Who cares!! Woohoo! Oh yeah, and while I'm at it, that new red 1200 GSA would be much better than my antique Anniversary Edition - $25,000? Who cares!!! WooHoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then I began to wonder if I have enough pesos for the gas and tolls between here and wherever the **** Hank is taking us. Crap, I should've gotten some pesos from the ATM.


About the time we were all getting burned out, we rolled into the small town of Bernal, a colorful and peacefully quiet town sitting beneath a massive rock promontory.

Hank found a hotel on a side street, where we unloaded gear and then parked the bikes in a gated lot on the next street. Rob opted for a single room and Jimmy and I shared one. Poor Jimmy.

Entrance to the parking garage

The town was right out of a storybook - colorful buildings, cobble streets and a very quiet atmosphere. We wandered and climbed, eventually reaching the old cemetery under the rock cliff.

This guy was very friendly and spoke English well. He told me of the preparations for the Day of the Dead they were doing. And yes, it's one of those pigs from Angry Birds

You're probably tiring of seeing pics of beautiful colored walls, so here's a bench

Here's a colored wall AND a white wall

As we climbed the road, I kept hearing a horse clip clopping and a rumbling engine coming closer. Turns out it was this guy exercising his caballo and not the gasoline powered horse I was expecting.

The cemetery had not yet been decorated, but we explored. Turns out R.I.P. is very common on the grave markers

This young man decorated the grave while we were there and spent much time talking to his loved one(s).

I had not been able to get wifi in the last 2 days, and Rob found out the main plaza had a gazebo with free wireless, so we planned to have dinner and then get caught up on email and posts. About the time we decided to head for dinner, I began to feel a bit weak and queasy. Hank and I walked a bit shooting pics, but I was going downhill and began looking for a farmacia. I feared it may get much worse and decided to try to get some antibiotics ahead of time in case it did. Hank got directions to one, and Rob went with me, however we eventually found out it was much further away so I blew it off.

I barely stayed awake through dinner and felt pretty bad overall so I left some money on the table for the guys to cover my bill and went back to the hotel and laid down. I could feel intestinal happenings and prayed it wouldn't get worse. The gang arrived and I felt a little guilty at having dampened the last night's party (cause God knows I'm the life of the party). Hank and I looked at his GoPro video and some other stuff before I finally passed out.

More soon!

 

[TinStar]

I was up earlier than the others, feeling like I was made of lead, intestines rumbling and feeling weak. Made my way down the street and sat in the cold air of the plaza, thankful I hadn't gotten violently ill the night before. I carried the laptop and posted a single photo for my friends to know I was still kicking.

I went back up the hill and eventually got my bike back to the hotel while the others were getting up and about. Packed it early, and then we congregated for breakfast at a little cafe on the square. I forced down an apple pastry and a capuccino, as well as a bottle of water.

Rob and Jimmy were going to part ways with us and spend another couple of days before returning, and I had debated staying with them, but in the end decided to stick with Hank, pairs being easier to deal with when riding and hotels.

We said our adios' and parted, riding up the cobblestone streets out into the sunshine and onto main roads, our plan being lunch in Matehuala and then on to Saltillo. I shot some GoPro footage, but I have to say I've been very frustrated with it this trip. I brought 6 batteries, and when fully charged am only getting 5 to 20 minutes run time, and they always die right before something really interesting comes up. It seems even leaving the camera off all day and then turning it on for interesting sights, the battery pukes. In addition, I've been getting condensation heavily in the lens housing every day, no matter how many times I dry it out and clean it.

So, my video footage consists of, (A.) Interesting footage completely ruined by condensation on the lens, or (B.), Footage of boring crap just before fantastic scenery arrives and the battery dies. Go figger.

Stills from the GoPro footage:

The caballero guy was drunk and trying to be helpful upon our arrival the day before, and was still drunk and trying to be helpful when we left

Anyway, the air was very cool this morning - eye watering - as we merged onto the highway southwest to Queretaro and then eventually north towards Saltillo. Blasting 85 mph for long periods, the vistas changed and yet remained the same. From high plains lower into the desert, the familiar crumbling buildings painted with Corona signs and partially completed concrete buildings with rebar standing above the roof lines. Burros, horses, cattle and sheep grazing on the highway medians, every so often a broken down Ford pickup on the side of the road - of which I've counted 10 to 1 being maroon colored - and the groups of locals waiting at the lonely bus stops with plastic grocery bags for luggage.

It felt great to be riding right behind Hank and not 75 yards back. Being the tail end of a high speed train is not easy. You have to watch all the bikes ahead of you, as Hank sped, split and wove through traffic, keeping an eye on the three bikes in front of you and trying to gauge what they're about to do, an eye on the cars, trucks and buses all around you, the various cars, semi's, dogs, potholes, topes and people along the roadside and running across the road, then try to make the gaps in traffic before they close, which rarely happened. As well, when you pass through the toll booths, everyone ahead has waited and had time to adjust glasses, clean shields, put away money and wallets, etc, but as you exit the booth they all take off like the start of a motocross race. Got a little frustrating at times but that's just part of the game. Let's just say it was a **** of a lot less stress and I actually got a few minutes now and then to look at scenery.

One thing I've found interesting has been the conversations, or rather lack thereof, with the gas station attendants. For me, the concept of having someone pump your gas is a new one. The routine being, pull up to pump, get off bike, take tank bag off, point to Red Premium and say "Rojo", have the attendant say "Roja?", to which I say "Si, gracias" then attendant then asks me in Spanish "how much" (at least I assume that's what he or she is asking) and I then point up to the sky, or raise my hand like water level rising, or some other inane thing, but they understand. Or as a couple of them have done, let me go through an entire hand signal routine complete with tap dancing, and they then say "You mean full?" in English.

At any rate, I try to have some discourse, which entails "Buenos Dias", "Muy Bueno" and then shortly after, "No Habla Espanol". It's been interesting as some attendants have worked in the US and enjoy speaking in English. Today when I pulled in for gas, three attendants came over and began trying to communicate with me about travel, the bike and such, all in Espanol. One finally said "Mexico bueno?" so that I could understand, to which I said loudly "Viva Mexico!!!". They all burst into smiles and laughter and we had a good laugh. I drove out to the sounds of "Adios Amigo" and "Buen Viaje".

When we broke for lunch in Matehuala, Sherry wasn't doing well. She'd had a back muscle go wonky and was miserable. She medicated, and Hank said he'd decided to head for Linares and then Santiago, which would put us later in the day, but a much more interesting road. I had finally begun to feel better physically and that was certainly fine with me.

We headed north until finally reaching the highway east for Galeana and Linares, the first mile or so being talcum powder dirt from road construction. A water truck had just heavily doused the deep powder, and I watched Hank weaving and wobbling in the slick, as did I until I was able to get over into the oncoming lane. When we finally got up into the mountains I was treated to one of the best roads I've yet ridden. Super twisty, high drop-offs, no railings, spectacular mountain views and one heck of a ride! I don't think I've ever scraped so much metal and boot rubber. Had a ball! Tense, but a ball :lol3 And of course the GoPro died just as I hit the good stuff.


The beginning of a fantastic ride

Don't miss this road if you ride the area.

We finally crested the mountain range and headed downhill, the eastern side of the mountains much, much warmer than the western side. We passed through several checkpoints, through large X-ray machines and steely-eyed machine gun toting policia and military. There will be many more between here and Laredo.

It had gotten very hot, but we eventually arrived in Santiago, just south of Monterrey. As we rolled into the old downtown plaza, there was much activity in preparation for a happening on the square. In each town we've been, other than Bernal, there has been something going on.

The hotel faced the square and the street had been cordoned off, but we were aloowed to pass to the hotel, but had to unload quickly and get the bikes into the garage, as they did not want the bikes there.

As we piled off the bikes, there was a high school band practicing in the plaza, playing hard core military type drum music. Hank went inside and Sherry laid down on the sidewalk, probably from her back pain... or maybe the meds :lol3

After dumping gear in the room, it appeared we were the only guests in the beautiful place. Hank had been told that the hot water had to be fired up and it would be a while before we could shower. I tried to get online but the password wasn't working.


The suffering continues

Hank knocked and I told him we'd meet in the square. There was a stage set up, as well as chairs. Tonight was a formal gathering in front of the church, dignitaries and the mayor giving a speech.

We walked the town for a bit, listening to the reverberations of the speeches and then the mariachi music. A fireworks finale was the signal for our dinner.

As we ate, the dignitaries filed in in groups, going downstairs to a private meeting room.

The town was very pretty and quiet. Hank said there had been a drug violence incident in the town a couple of years before, and the tourist shops had moved away. He also said there was only the one hotel, and from the looks of it being empty I guess the tourism had left it lonely as well.

Tomorrow Laredo and then home. This has been a great trip.

 

[TinStar]

Had a nice dinner with Hank and Sherry and a good night's rest. I think we were the only guests in the hotel, as in the parking garage there were no other cars.

The surrounding mountains are beautiful

Having been without access to the net for the last few days, I decided to try and upload some things, however the password for the hotel wireless didn't work. I walked out into the plaza and looked for some coffee, finding a cup in a small store much like a 7-11. It felt weird and disturbing to find prepackaged foods, coffee from machines, and styrofoam cups after the quaint cafe's and "cafe' con leche' " served hot from earthenware cups and such. I said "Wifi?" to the checker, and he pointed outside to the square, so I ambled out, feeling very proud of my Spanish communication abilities.

I was looking forward to a quiet time of coffee, editing and uploading. As soon as my tush touched down, an old gentleman ambled up and began speaking spanish to me. After a couple of minutes of me waving my arms in my best Italian, he spoke to me in broken English and said "Eet ees a beautiful early morning no?" I agreed and complimented him on his english. He began talking to me of many things, his age and life, his town, how he loved to walk the town early in the mornings. Feeling pressed for time, I began to get antsy about uploading and then caught myself. Life is about these moments and about people, and I felt a little disturbed at myself for wanting to rush him. I closed my laptop, leaned back and we just had a long chat. His name was Fortencio, aged 77 and he'd grown up in Santiago, but had worked 55 years in a consulate. I asked what he had done, and he told me he was the bell boy there.

We talked and talked, him telling me about the various people as they would walk by and how long he'd known them, where they had grown up and other things. He said his wife of 70 still looked as young as when they'd married in the early 1960's and how she was visiting family in nearby San Francisco. He would point out the buses and tell me where they went and how much I could ride them for. He also told me about the previous night's event, in which a new mayor had been elected and last night was the official handover. He then told me a previous mayor had been shot 2 years before by drug lords. Hank had told me the town had had a couple of incidents a few years ago, and this had stalled tourism to the town. Shame as it is a beautiful place, but we both had the feeling it was about to make a comeback and now would be a good time to rent a space for a business… what type I have no idea LOL

My time up, I thanked Fortencio for his kindness and went to get geared up, find Hank and get the plan in order.

Old well in the restaurant

We were heading for Laredo, but were unsure as to whether to go to the Colombia bridge where the traffic would be lighter, however it being further out would add time to the trip so we opted instead for Laredo.

Santiago is about 20 miles south of Monterrey, and as we headed out the sky was much clearer than when we'd come through the previous week. The smog had been so heavy on the way south that one could barely see the mountain silhouettes. But this morning they were easy to see and quite pretty.

Quickly we were into the bustle of Monterrey's highways and I stuck to Hank as well as I could, weaving and bobbing in traffic. We eventually cleared the town and grabbed gas on the north side. Hank said to have the passport ready as we would hit more checkpoints on the way north now. The heat grew quickly as we left Monterrey, my mind on the traffic and on the drab vision of returning to the border and subsequently the return home.

I'd been warned to lose the GoPro and not take any pics near the border area unless I wanted to sit in a room and be questioned for a few hours, so I stashed the cameras and put on my dumb tourist face. Which differs only slightly from my dumb regular face.

Oh the suckage...

Idling in a construction zone traffic yam

As we neared the International Bridge in downtown Nuevo Laredo, the heat became more oppressive. Hank had asked earlier if I wanted to keep my import permit (good for 6 months) and I had said yes, so we avoided having to deal with that and paid the toll to cross the bridge. I'd gotten down to the bottom of my peso pile and ended up paying the toll in US dollars.

As we sat idling in the heat, the lanes jammed with traffic, Hank asked if I wanted to eat at Wendy's or Whataburger with an evil grin. We then split into different lanes and inched along. By the time my slot was open, I was feeling loopy from the heat. I can't imagine sitting there for hours during July or August.

The border guard asked for my Passport and for me to remove my helmet. He then asked a few questions about where I'd been. I told him San Miguel as we'd been advised to do. He then asked if I had any fruits, meats, etc and I told him I had some chocolate and some energy bars. He asked to see inside the cases, so I dismounted and opened a couple of them, and he said all was fine and sent me on my way. I exited the official area and back into the US, pulling over in the Valero gas station lot just outside the gate to wait for Hank and Sherry.

They came in about a minute later and we tried to gas up, but the credit cards weren't working so we drove further out for gas. We were hungry and needed a break from the heat. Pulled into a Fuddruckers nearby. It felt very, very strange to return. Entering the place, the employees were dressed in bizarre costumes which added to the feelings. I then remembered it was Halloween, as I'd lost track of time in Mexico.

After a burger, fries and a root beer, I started to relax from the tension of crossing, and the exhaustion began to set in.

We cranked up and raced along to Dilley, following them home to deliver a hat Sherry had bought, literally off the head of a local in Mexico. I had had room in my topcase for the mini sombrero.


Obligatory train delay in the heat

The ride back through Devine, Hondo and Bandera was bittersweet, as I longed for home to get out of the gear, the heat and to relax, but I also hated the thought of stopping. There are so many reasons - you're in tune with the bike and riding is like breathing, each day has brought a new horizon, new adventures and new people, you're in a rhythm, a flow and in freedom.

You guys who ride know what I'm talking about…

 

[cdc]

What a fantastic report!

 

[TinStar]

Thanks Camilo! Was a great trip and ready to go again... tomorrow

 

[CeeBee]

TinStar,
Thank for taking us along with you and spending the time to post. It was a great read!

Almost went to the rally but decided to pass up the turn and head to Zihuatanejo.

Thanks again, Chuck

 

[kiko]

Great photos and story telling. Looks like you guys had a +10 trip.
Soy celoso!

"Local" Pemex in the Michoacan wilderness near Santa Maria Del Oro:

 

[The Bruce]

Great photos. Glad you had a safe trip.

 

[TinStar]

Great photos and story telling. Looks like you guys had a +10 trip.
Soy celoso!

"Local" Pemex in the Michoacan wilderness near Santa Maria Del Oro:

Thanks guys!

Kiko I can't wait to get back down there and get some local Pemex

 

[Tourmeister]

I was looking forward to a quiet time of coffee, editing and uploading. As soon as my tush touched down, an old gentleman ambled up and began speaking spanish to me. After a couple of minutes of me waving my arms in my best Italian, he spoke to me in broken English and said "Eet ees a beautiful early morning no?" I agreed and complimented him on his english. He began talking to me of many things, his age and life, his town, how he loved to walk the town early in the mornings. Feeling pressed for time, I began to get antsy about uploading and then caught myself. Life is about these moments and about people, and I felt a little disturbed at myself for wanting to rush him. I closed my laptop, leaned back and we just had a long chat. His name was Fortencio, aged 77 and he'd grown up in Santiago, but had worked 55 years in a consulate. I asked what he had done, and he told me he was the bell boy there.

It is easy to get so busy or wrapped up in what we are doing that we see people as just part of the scenery rather than as unique individuals. Some of the most memorable moments can come from simply taking the time to visit with someone and listen to their stories. I try to keep this in mind whether I am on the road or going about my routine here at home.

Excellent photography and report!!

 

[TinStar]

Thanks Tourmeister! Much appreciated

 

[Red Brown]

Excellent detailed ride report and I think you have a really good eye for photography too! These are some of the best south of the border visual experiences I have seen in quite some time.

RB

 

[TinStar]

Thanks RB!

Sent from my SGH-T889 using Tapatalk

 

[Soozy]

You never disappoint with your rides. I only stopped reading the report in order to read Five Little Monkeys Jumpin' on the Bed to my grand daughter.

Thanks for taking us along.

 

[philipbarrett]

If I may say, you are one talented street & architectural photographer. Your breakfast table in Real De Catorce is quite Flemish in the composition & lighting.

 

[TinStar]

Thanks Soozy and Phillip!

 

[kojack06]

Man, what a great Christmas morning treat! I love reading your trip reports TinStar! Thank you !

Whew! 475,000 miles!!!!!!!

 

[TexTom]

I've always been impressed by TinStar's mad photo skills. He has quite the history of producing "eye candy".
Tom