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.