Mainland Mexico

So there Jeremy and Chad were, in Mazatlan. The party capital of Mexico. Full of bars, music, babes, Mexican food and gorgeous beaches. The Lonely Planet says nobody will be bored in Mazatan. The intoxicating tales of drunken debauchary, from many friends who had been there once before, also pointed to Mazatlan as the party place along the Pacific. Jeremy and Chad were ready for it. The ached for it. They yearned for it. The cheap, American-style, touristy plastic atmosphere was exactly what they needed to top off 3 weeks worth of riding through the Baja desert. So, when they discovered absolutely none of this; needless to say; they were befuddled. Unless you´re a senior citizen retiree, or a Hispanic dude with a comb in your hair and baggy jeans listening to hip-hop, Mazatlan is a joke. (Not that there´s anything wrong with senior citizens. Or Hispanic dudes with combs and baggy jeans. Or hip-hop.) But after aimlessly searching for any sign of nightlife, they had to accept the fact that Mazatlan actually was a bore. But only after 3 days. Anyways, to make a long story short- Jeremy and Chad left Mazatlan extremely disappointed. So the next 3 days they headed south down a road which will forever be etched in their minds. Think of Interstate 94 and all its semi-trucks, with traffic twice as bad and twice as fast, and no shoulder. Not to mention the random idiot that likes to run bicylists off the road. Then you might have an idea of what riding down this thing for 180 miles was like. They did survive however, with only a few minor scrapes and a couple dented coffee mugs. One night they weren´t able to find a campsite until after dark and ended up in the corner of a farmer´s field. No big deal right? Just get up early the next morning and head on out. So when a couple guys pulled into the field to start plowing, at 3am, they figured that the Bike Gods were against them. They did manage to make it down to the turn-off and head another 20 miles to the sea though. They came into the city of San Blas; completely dehydrated, exhausted and still jolted by what had now become known as the Mazatlan Incident. They had completely no idea what San Blas had to offer. So when they pulled into a campsite right on an magnificent beach called Stoner´s Surf Camp (actually some guy´s last name), they felt much better. After meeting a bunch of random traveller´s, enjoying some cervezas in the hammock under the palapas, and munching on a free Thankgiving dinner; they were reminded why they were on this trip afterall. Things were looking down for a few days but they´re back up now. WAY up. Everyone on this beach planned on only being here for a couple days, but have ended up staying for weeks, months, or even years. And that mentality is slowly creeping upon Jeremy and Chad. Cheap food, cheap drinks, surfing every morning before sunrise.

So- sorry mom. Won´t be home for Xmas.

P.S. Please pay my bills back home.

Baja Sur II

About 15 miles out of Loreto, we finally saw what all the gringos from the states come down to Baja for. The southern half of Baja is right out of a picture-perfect postcard. It was beginning to look more and more like the paradise we were seeking. The desert slowly replaced by a more tropical environment, deserted beaches, crystal blue water, shorebirds dive-bombing for fish. We decided a night at one of these beaches was desperately needed, so we set-up camp and chilled out for the whole day under the sun. One of those days that live like a dream and never die. That is, until we found out that one of the two beers I´d grabbed earlier was non-alcoholic. Poor Chad. He had to live off a natural high of wildlife and wave breaks. And the wildlife has been amazing down here. Man-O-War birds, tarantulas, bobcats, skinny cows and goats with bells. Have only had to dodge a few of the goats down here on the road. We had a great few days riding after our beach night through the desert again. Not too many places in the world can you stop-by on the side of the road and buy a coke while watching a cow get slaughtered. Our last night in the desert found us in the middle of a giant cactus area, which looked like a movie set for The 3 Amigos. It was a sad night, saying goodbye to the desert. Living off a diet of bean burritos, coconut and coke was an enlightening experience. But we had to move on the next morning to get into La Paz. Once we got there the Baja 1000 Motorcross Race was also finishing up at about the same time. So we got to finish our Baja ride through a parade of people cheering us on. And we didn´t even have motors. Planned on taking the ferry out the next day to Mazatlan but it was cancelled, so had to high-tail it another 15 miles that day to catch it by 3pm. Completely exhausted, we made it and looked forward to a quiet night on the ferry to rest up; which turned into a festive evening of drinking with an Argentinian who turned into a surfer at 35, a Mexican who loves Depeche Mode, and a Kentuckian who rides motorbikes across Mexico. I´ll tell you what...it may not sound spectacular. But drinking a couple Modelos while listening to Depeche Mode, with a bunch of people who amuse you on a ferry to Mazatlan, after riding your bike for 3 weeks through the desert, is a f·cking great feeling. So the next morning we pulled into Mazatlan which is where we´ll be for the next few days resting up. Looking forward to the Pacific Coast of Mexico.

Baja Sur

Leaving Guerrero Negro we entered into the southern half of Baja. We coasted once again into our home away from home out in the desert. I was missing the vultures atop the cactus with their wings spread enjoying the breeze, and the quiet nights under the stars. Chad was missing a few pounds and growing thinner and thinner by the minute. Came across a nice little oasis in San Ignacio and decided to stay there for the night after only a 15 mile ride. A few flat tires in the morning made that decision easy. Next day, we rode through a mini-Grand Canyon which brought us into Santa Rosalia on the Sea of Cortez. This town had a little character to it. By this time, me and Chad were beginning to think we were super studs, having rode all the way from San Diego. Until we met Justin that is, an English guy who has been touring on his bike for the last 2 1/2 years! After hearing his tales of riding through India, southeast Asia, the outback of Australia, through Canada and the States, and now on his way to the tip of South America and then Africa; I don't think he was too impressed with our ability to change a broken spoke on a tire. We actually began to feel bad for having a beer and enjoying a taco, cause this guy was living off $3 a day, showering once a month and camping every night. So anyway, we spent the night with Justin enjoying some Pacifico's in the town plaza and camping outside town. The next day we bid farewell to that crazy bastard and headed south for Mulege. Once again we found no evidence of any nightlife or civilization whatsoever in these towns of Baja. We were beginning to suspect that the vultures were eating all the people on the peninsula. We made a pact that night to get to La Paz and on a ferry to Mazatlan as soon as possible. But the next day our pact was tested as we finally found a glimpse of the paradise we were seeking. Gorgeous beach after gorgeous beach, Hawaii-style, were everywhere. There was hope afterall for Baja. So now we've made it to Loreto which actually seems to have some life to it. Baja has been an outstanding ride, but we're thirsty for some beach time and a little music. A few more nights in the desert and we'll be there.

Baja del Norte

Ok- we´re back. Coming out of Ensenada I noticed the rear axel on the Rooster was a little loose. I figured it would hold for about another 1000 miles until we got through Baja. It held for about the next 100 feet. Luckily, Ensenada had all the bike shops we needed and outstanding citizens like Mario the BikeMan to help us out. He even let us gander at his souped-up, dog-resistant bicycle which was 6 feet high. So somewhere between going to San Felipe and the axel getting fixed, we decided not to go to San Felipe, but instead headed south down Highway 1. Good move, cause the other way involved going over 150 miles of dirt roads. So for the last few days have spent our nights camping in the desert, eating tortillas and having our ritual morning coffee. The desert has been surreal to say the least. Strange, winding cactus everywhere and a winding road that goes on and on forever, interrupted by the occasional junkyard here, and RV park there. Northern Baja is a strange mixture of beautiful beaches, sprawling desert, and junkyard after junkyard. Kinda like Fat Albert´s paradise. It doesn´t matter where you´re at too, there´s a place to camp. Spent one rainy night in some abandoned house on the side of the road that turned into a nice little home with a fire. We´ve been able to throw a fire up wherever we camp so been able to stay warm through the chilly nights. Ran out of pesos one day and had to choose between a six-pack of beer or some water for the next day´s ride. Damn, we sure were thirsty that next day. But luckily we had some American dinero so was able to rehydrate. The people down here have been great so far also . It looks like the only people who think Mexico is dangerous are the people who haven´t been down here. Coming into one random town we walked into a store to buy some gatorade. Seems we woke up the guy from his 11:30am nap. He didn´t have anything to drink other than 40 cases of beer. Loads of beer in the middle of a desert, not another town for 60 miles and nothing else to survive on?? Hey, at least these Mexicans have their priorities straight. But we really were in the middle of a ride, and beer wasn´t the best thing right then. So now we´ve shacked up in Guerrerro Negro, the beginning of Baja Sur. We´ve got a hotel room, there was a bank and the laundry lady is doing our laundry. Looking forward to getting over to the Sea of Cortez in the next few days for some beach action and hoepfully some diving. So far it´s been a great trip. Lots of hills, but coming down the backside of mountain at 40mph with the desert on one side and the Pacific on the other is an amazing feeling.
Anywayz- hasta luego

Everywhere but Mexico

Alrighty- it´s been awhile but I´m still alive. Anyhow, ended up taking a Greyhound bus out of New Mexico into Phoenix. I haven´t taken a Greyhound for years and now I remember why. There´s some interesting folks on those babies. One of the conversations I had went something like this:

Me: Hey, where you coming from?

Unknown Man 1: I´m coming from Virginia, heading to Phoenix?

Me: So you from Phoenix then?

Unknown Man 1: No, just going there for treatment. I´m an alcoholic.

Me: Great! Good luck with that. Zzzzzzzzzzz

And another:

Unknown man 2: Moved out here to see my ex-wife after 12 years, now she´s already kicked me out after 2 weeks. You from California?

Me: No, Minnesota.

Unknown man 2: Great. Yeah, can´t wait to tell her about all those hot hunnies I pick up on Malibu Beach. Hahahaha! You going to California?

Me: No. Phoenix.

Unknown man 2: Great. Screw that bitch anyway. Who needs women. I just need a drink. Hahahaha!!

Anyway, you get the idea. Spent a couple days in Phoenix at a hostel then took another bus into San Diego to meet up with Chad, who picked me up from the station. Then things got curiouser and curiouser. Due to some unforeseen circumstances things took a bit of a twist for the next week or so. Spent some time in San Diego practically living at the PB Bar & Grill for 3 days watching college football games, World Series and NFL games. Caught up with an old friend from the Marines, met all the Wolf people and drank a lot of MGD. Then there was the road trip up to Idaho, which led to a drive around Yellowstone National Park. Saw some buffalo. Somehow, we seemed to be getting further and further away from Mexico. Then on the way back, a stopover in Vegas at the Hard Rock for some gambling action. (Won $200!) Then back to San Diego for a silly Halloween Party and a Hooters dinner. So, waking up all hung-over, dehydrated, and sleep-deprived after 10 days of party-action, we figured we were finally ready to hit Mexico. We managed to get our bikes together, took our rental car back to the airport and headed out on our bikes for Baja.

Then it happened. Chad dropped the burritos.

But after that, all was OK. Until an hour later and Chad got a flat tire. But after that, all was OK. Well, until we crossed the border and hit a hill from hell. But after that, all was OK. That is, until the Federales told us we couldn´t ride our bikes down Hwy1. No problem as some nice young man told us the secret way to get back on it down the road. So somehow we managed to get out of Tijuana, found a place on a cliff overlooking the sea, and camped out. Sun going down over the Pacific, sound of crashing waves and a couple burritos. Can´t beat that. Our previous training over the last few days had served us well as we were both wiped out after only 30 miles.

Baja is amazing. Beach after beach after beach. They cater to the rich, RV Americans down here so there´s plenty of gated communities along the way. On our second day we hit a lot of hills and wind but still a great ride going down the coast. Even with the crazy 130km drivers whizzing past us. Managed to make it into Ensenada, crashed at a hotel and feisted on tacos. Yummy tacos for breakfast, lunch and dinner the rest of the time down here hopefully. So now we´re ready to go, on our way to San Felipe. Extra water? Check. New tires? Check. Extra toilet paper to combat Montezuma´s Revenge? Check. Panama here we come...dead or alive.