El Dia Cuatro - Mas (you know…4 +)
Day four: A hefty snort and jolly good chuckle with ancient spirits of the Sierra Madre.
Let’s see…ahh yes, the canyon run. Good stuff by any measure.
Truth in advertising clause: Loaded KLR, a looong way from any kind of medical help ( not counting the local curandero with his/her leaches, chants, snakes and potions ), no reasonable means of extraction and maps that are mostly an approximation...
Kinda gives further consideration for that minor little insurance clause dealing with eventual “repatriation of mortal remains.”
So, just how enthusiastically do we want to romp and stomp through this thing?
We made it past the super cool canyon ( arroyo ) and back onto a dirt road. They use some type of rock for roads and the dust from this stuff hangs in the air like a mist. It’ll infiltrate the slightest opening in your equipment. I was missing a ¼” vent screw on one saddlebag and the thing was loaded with dust after the day.
All of us are dust phobic so when terrain allows we stretch out from each other and hope a breeze or earth’s rotation will move some of it out of the way. This road was bad and the hills and trees just weren’t letting any breeze move around.
I pulled up to JT at an intersection and checked the track on my GPS. I told him that I’d buzz on up the road and put some distance between us. And buzz I did.
After what seemed like a pretty good run, I came around a curve in the road to find an old Ford truck parked in the middle.
OK…just another day in Mexico. Then, I saw an older lady on the far side of an arroyo tending to a little shrine – the things are all over. Looked like a good place to stop and let the others catch up. And besides, I wanted to respectfully ask the lady about all these silly shrines.
On seeing me, the lady quickly finished her prayers and made a beeline for the truck. Guess the Darth Vader on a bike look hasn’t caught on around there yet. Go figure...
Anyway, I went over to check out the shrine after they’d left.
Seemed like it was taking an awful long time for the crew to come along so I went over to a shady ledge beside the road and set down to enjoy a few crackers ( *lunch* ) while waiting. It was such a tranquil spot. I took a quick snap of the noble steed and that shrine in the background just to commemorate the occasion.
As per proper TWT training, I’d parked the KLR as far to side of the road as possible.
Just after I took this pict and finished another yummy cracker, I finally heard a bike far in the distance…faint at first but slowly growing louder. Friends on the way…all was well.
Just sitting there on that ledge, chomping away on those crackers, admiring the image of my bike and the background…when suddenly and ever so slowly, the bike starts to lean toward the arroyo.
The visual was all in ultraslow motion. It leans farther…I’m 20 yards away sitting on my…it gradually gains momentum and finally crashes with a loud crunch and an impressive cloud of dust…into the arroyo.
I’m still sitting there slowly processing what my eyes are sending. This makes no sense! I’ve been here a good five minutes plus, there is no breeze…we'll assume gravity is still being its usual persistent menace…and I can’t see my bike anymore!!!
System overload…ctrl + alt + del.
I’m still rebooting when I hear faint snickering and chuckles coming from the direction of that silly shrine. Hmmm... About the time I’m ready to hit the reset switch, JT comes zipping around the curve and sees my bike…or what’s left of it.
See, we’d been getting a lot of radio noise coming through the canyon and I’d turned mine off to see if it was the one causing the commotion. He’d been calling, I’d been missing - and now – here’s my bike lying in a ditch with its tires pointed skyward…and I’m nowhere to be seen…sobbing in the shadows.
You can appreciate his concern...
Which, in this instance, was for a bottle of Cabrito tequila I was carrying in the saddlebag that hit the ground.
OK…ok…to be fair, we were both deeply concerned as to its safety and well being.
We managed to right the bike and get her back up on the road. This would NEVER have happened without JT’s help.
My helmet - on the handlebar -took most of the abuse and the bike had earned a few more battle scars but was good to go. Hey, it’s a KLR...what can you break that would really show?
Oh, and the Cabrito?
And that’s…the rest of the story!
Doncha just love a happy ending?
Next, step back in time along the trail to Dr Arroyo.