Mexico - Day 2

You can find Day 1 here and here.


It's just as well that I didn't make it to Cananea on Day 1. I wasn't prepared for what I would find which was nothing like I would have expected if I had expected anything.
In U.S. cities there is a line of motels on the highway with bright neon signs exhorting you to stay with promises of Free WiFi or Free Hot Breakfast or something. In Mexico there are hand painted signs saying Hotel leaning against a building. Maybe just the word Hotel painted on the side of the building itself.

The areas I was going through were not tourist spots and the hotels catered to truckers and itinerant workers. No TripAdvisor ratings here. It was not easy to tell a flop house from a hot spot as I rode along. Since I had camped the night before it was a problem I could defer for the moment.

The problem I did have was trying to get out of town. I must have passed this statue of a miner 5 or 6 times. It wasn't a big city but I certainly got to see all of it.

Which brings me to another point, food. It was early and I was hungry. There are no Denny's or Mickey D's here, just places that said "Taqueria" or maybe "Burritos". One place looked good, a small joint with a few local workers eating in the open air but I passed it by. Here's what I wrote in my journal,

I'm not afraid of bandits or scorpions but I am terrified of making an ass of myself while ordering food in a restaurant.

With the help of the gps I finally found my way out of town and headed south. I had wimped out and ate a granola bar rather than confront my fear. I vowed not to do that again.

This is the road I intended as an interesting shortcut from one highway to another. Hmmm, deep sand and lots of running water. DBAJ alert! There would be lots of places like this along the way. Places I could attempt if I had to or if I was not traveling alone. However, I decided to take the path of caution and went back to the road I was on.

This is Mexico's way of saying, "Caution, danger ahead!" These memorials are for people who have lost their lives on the highway. In this case they might have missed the curve and went sailing off the cliff. The bigger the memorial, the greater the danger. In many places there were multiple shrines just to warn you that some people are slow learners.

Arizpe is a small town that was once the capital of most of northern Mexico and what is now Arizona, Texas, and California. Some time ago the capital moved to Hermosillo leaving this a quiet farming community. In 1775, a year before the Declaration of Independence, Capt. Juan Bautista de Anza led the march from Arizpe north establishing missions along the way and ended by founding the city of San Francisco, California. His remains are interred in the floor of the church under a glass panel. That was just a bit creepy for me so I moved on.

The rest of the church was beautiful and I sat for a moment to enjoy the art and majesty of it.

When I went back to my bike I hit the jackpot, Senora Carmen Puente. She maintains a little two room museum of the town's history. Her English was little better than my Spanish as she showed me the artifiacts but we managed to connect and understand each other well enough.

There was a little of everything including Carmen herself. It seems she is the great-great-granddaughter of De Anza. It was a lovely experience all the more exquisite because the museum is unmarked and our meeting was purely by chance.

After that I was on the road to Hermosillo where I found an internet cafe to write this post.

I headed east on Mex 16, the main east-west route through northern Mexico. I had avoided it earlier because I didn't want to drone along a freeway. How wrong I was. Once I got past the flat area it was a 2 lane mountain road that was a motorcycle delight. Plenty of curves, great scenery, and COWS! Nothing like a few cows wandering about in a blind curve to get your heart pumping.

Between the cattle, rock slides, and tight curves I was averaging only about 40 mph but I was having a ball!!

I've finally got the pictures (all 1,987 of them!) sorted out now so I'll be able to post more every day. See you tomorrow.

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A Warm Welcome Home

I'm back. I arrived home about 4:30. It was forecast to be chilly but once past Allentown PA it was clear blue skies and warm weather. Even the Merritt Parkway coopperated and was free of traffic jams.

7,000 miles in 70 days. It was a great time and I'm looking forward to the next one.

I'll be back to Day 2 and the rest of the Mexican retrospective tomorrow. Right now I'm just sitting back and relaxing.

Thanks for the great support from all of you.

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Everything has a cost

I left Nashville after joining my friends for breakfast. Nothing is better than spending time with old friends and making new ones. My plan was to super-slab it to my reservation in Kingsport TN. But plans, like rules, are made to be broken.

The trip from Austin to Nashville was under cold and gloomy skies. To break it up a little I skipped over to US 70 that ran parallel. The old US numbered routes are a hidden gem for motorcyclists. They go through the real America that the Interstate system so studiously avoids. They cling to the landscape, twisting and turning along the hills and rivers. They pass through the towns and villages and you'll find much better food at Alice's Dine Inn than you'll ever get at Speedy's On The Highway.

Through Arkansas the road was straight and flat. Before long I noticed that the road was on a levee, 10' above a continuous array of rivers, creeks, swamps, and flood plains. Where it was dry, it was cultivated fields that must get enriched with the nutrients spread by the periodic floods. The towns I passed through were farming communities that exhibited the full range of farm activities. You can't find a panorama this rich on the interstate. The curious thing is that the alternate route isn't much slower than the freeway. 

So today when I got on I-40 the sun was bright, the air was warm, and I had a smile on my face. It was too good a day to waste droning down the highway. So I jumped over to US 70 again and enjoyed the slower pace. There were fall colors in the trees and the traffic was light.

Then I hit the jackpot. Ever wonder what they are talking about when they mention the hollow in the southern mountains? While I was trying to line up a picture I realized that I was at the junction with Brinley Hollow Road. Adventure calling!!

It was a one lane road that went down the side of a ravine into a linear valley wedged between two ridges. It went along for a few miles. I didn't know where I was going but what could go wrong? I could always turn around and retrace my tracks but my road dead ended at a junction with Stanley Hollow Road, another one lane road going somewhere ...

So, of course, I took it. This led for many more miles and then blended with a 2 lane road. Finally it came back to US 70 and I headed headed east again. 

The cost of this adventure was going to be a late arrival at my hotel. An extra hour on the road with the sun down and the temperature dropping. It would be cramped muscles and a sore fanny. 

It would be totally worth it. This is why I ride a dual sport motorcycle!!

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You can't buy a ticket for this show

I've had a lot of unexpected pleasures on this trip. The latest was the party last night in Nashville. 

I wanted to visit my friend Troyce who has a house in Greeneville TN which is on my way home. However, he was going to be in Nashville at the time I would be passing by and suggested meeting him there at his sister's home.

So I showed up to a very interesting BBQ and Pickers Party. Now being Tennessee the BBQ was only excellent. I pigged out (excuse the pun). No chicken in sight, just ribs, beans, and coleslaw. And brownies!

I would have thought I'd hit the jackpot right there but then people started getting out guitars, mandolins, banjos, and every other stringed instrument you could imagine. They gathered around the fire pit in the back yard and commenced to play and sing.

None of that phoney conuntry-pop stuff. They were playing all manner of classic country songs. When I asked, I was told that these were local players, many of them studio musicians, who got together to play for themselves. The songs they sang were both the ones I knew and ones they had written themselves. 

And play they did! There was no stage or playlist, they just passed the lead around and played what they wanted. This was the sort of music that takes you around the bend and far along to the horizon. As a person who loves old school country music I was in pure heaven.

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Mexico - Day 1 Part 2

Continuing the retrospective of my adventure south of the border.

I thought I had a plan for leaving Nogales: It looked really good on the map. However, I was quickly to learn that the map, the gps, and reality had only vague acquaintences with one another. This is compounded by the lack of street signs as we know them. Remember what I said? Mexico is different.

My plan was to take a shortcut from Nogales to Rt 2 and then on to Cananea for the night. Unfortunately, there were no signs saying, "This way to the shortcut to Rt 2 and Cananea." Or at least none in English.

So I took Rt 15 south to where it meets with Rt 2. A little out of the way but nothing fatal. Then I got to Km 21, the border inspection station where you get the travel papers that the Consul General in Boston told me I didn't need. 

"Your passport please. And 300 pesos." No big deal. In fact I was relieved to be getting the visa because it had made life a lot easier in my last trip to Baja Sur. 

Then there was the papers for the motorcycle. Disaster! They wouldn't accept the copy of my registration, only the original which I didn't have with me. I appealed to the "authorities" which turned out to be a very young girl with braces and ill fitting blue jacket and pants. The only word she seemed to know was "No".

What to do, what to do ... ? As I walked back to my bike the officer in charge of the parking lot wished me Buenos Tardes and pointed to the exit heading south. It seemed to be a message from above so I headed south, personal papers in hand but lacking vehicle papers. Stay tuned this topic will come up again.

On to Imuris where I picked up Rt 2 and headed east. Highway construction sites in Mexico consist of a bulldozed rough road next to the road being worked on and shifting all traffic to this temporary path. 

Since Rt 2 is the main road parallel to the Mexican/U.S. border it has a lot of trucks. They, in turn, make the temporary road even rougher. This makes them go slower which was making me crazy. The dust was so bad that I could bearly see or breathe. I would have loved to show them the AT's off-road capabilities but traffic was so dense that I never got a chance to pass anyone. And it was getting later and darker ...

One of the first things everyone with any experience in Mexico tells you is not to drive after dark. Various animals are apt to wander into your path with painful consequences. I was getting worried that I wouldn't make Cananea and find a place to stay for the night.

Finally the construction ended but now I was heading up into the mountains and the road was 2 lanes with plenty of twisties. Even though I had only gotten ~175 miles I was tired from riding though the construction. I was looking for a place to pitch the tent that would be safely away from the road.

Who could possibly notice me here?

This is what I picked in the dark. I thought it was a secluded spot far away from the road. To my amazement, the morning light showed that it was only about 100' off the pavement and totally visable to anyone passing by. This was my first introduction to Mexican camping - Pitch a tent practically anywhere you like. Nobody cares. Try not get run over.

So I crawled into my sleeping bag for my first night in Mexico, serenaded by the sound of Jake Brakes from the trucks decending the grade.

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Doing time on the slab

Eat your heart out New England!

Re-Tired

I finally got my tires and left in a snit. Actually, it was a Ford Explorer but I was not a happy camper.

The tires are fine but one of my metal valve stem caps is missing. In fact, no cap at all. Little details like this make a place look bad.

Under the fair-is-fair policy I want to say that Jess, the store manager, called me and offered an apology. She realised that I was really unhappy and wanted to see what she could do to make it right. This goes a long way with me. Mistakes can happen and we all need to recognize that and move on. I thanked her for taking the time but said that I couldn't drop by the store because I needed to be far down the road by the time they opened. We left it on friendly terms.

Now I have to make Little Rock by tonight so that I can make Nashville tomorrow. 900 miles in 2 days. Not my idea of fun trolling down the interstate but it has to be done.

I'll get back to the Mexican retrospective in a day or two. Stay tuned.

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Tires - Part 3

After this morning's post I called Cycle Gear - Austin at 1:30 to see if the tires were in. The first person said they would check, put me on hold, and 10 minutes later I hung up. 

I called back and got another person. They started to tell me about 4-5 business days for delivery when I hit the roof. I explained that I had been told 1-2 days. I told them that I had visited the store yesterday and was told that the front tire was already in. Basically, I told them to skip the BS and go find my tire. I wanted a tracking number and specific delivery date. I was not happy and told them so!

Suddenly, the rear tire appeared in today's shipment. Nobody had bothered to look. The tire mounting guy said he would have them ready by 3:00. I'm leaving in a few minutes to pick them up. 

Stay tuned. If the evening news mentions a thermo-neuclear explosion in Austin you'll know that I got jerked around again.

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NOT Flying

This picture my look familiar.

Cycle Gear has really dropped the ball on this one! I ordered the tires last Thursday (10/30) and was told it would take "2 to 3 business days". That would make it Monday (11/3) or Tuesday (11/4). I made it very clear that I was on the road and the bike was unable to continue. They said they understood.

I didn't bug them on Monday thinking that if the tires came in they would call me. Tuesday, nothing ...

Yesterday I went down to check and was told that, "The front tire is in and we are hoping that the rear tire will come in tomorrow or Friday." I'm supposed to meet a friend in Nashville this weekend and it is looking decreasingly possible.

The people at the Austin store are very nice. They're Texans, they couldn't possibly be otherwise. But nice doesn't get me back on the road. 

It seems that Cycle Gear has no Vehicle Down program to expedite orders for people who are stuck on the road. Nobody offered priority delivery options if any exist. My local shop, MotoConsult, gets tires either next day or the day after from Parts Unlimited when I order them. I thought that a company as big as Cycle Gear would have this sort of thing well developed but their responsiveness seems to be very casual at best.

By now I wish I had ordered the tires from Revzilla, Rocky Mountain, or Motorcycle Superstore. By now I'm thinking that even Amazon could have been a better choice! I would have gotten a better price and free shipping.

Customer service is what makes or breaks a company. This time the system is broken.

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Flying

Seems to be a common theme for me. Notice the very nice motorcycle stand from Harbor Crates.

6 minutes into Mexico

Note: I finally have my pictures from Mexico organized and I'll be posting them with comments today and tomorrow.

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This is a 6 minute video of getting into Mexico at Nogales. It starts out on I-19 and ends up in the streets of Nogales.



As you can see it was no big deal and there was nobody waiting to jump me on the other side. In fact, it was just like any other city with lots of shops and traffic.

I stopped at a bank to try to exchange money. I was told that they only did that for bank account holders and the woman took me out on the street and directed me to where the cambios were. 

There are a couple of streets off the main road that house many cambios (money exchanges). These look pretty seedy at first glance and all those Uncle Henry stories come to mind. However, I parked the bike and stood there to get some idea of what was going on. The cambios each had a sign that said Compra 12.70 Venta 13.25. 

Just as I was figuring this out (buy US$ at 12.70 pesos, sell US$ at 13.25 pesos) this guy walks up and strikes up a conversation. Hmmm ... What does he want. Not much it turns out. He just wants to talk about motorcycles.

I ask him about changing money and he says he knows a guy ... Just around the corner ... 

It turns out to be just another faceless window with a sign over it. The guy I met talked through the window and then asks how much I want to change. I tell him US$300 and he talks through the window and tells me his friend will give me 12.75 pesos for each dollar. This is 15 extra pesos or about a dollar and a half.

So I give him the money, he hands it through the window, and in a couple of minutes an old style adding machine tape wrapped around a wad of bills appears. I stuff it into my pocket and walk back to my bike with my amigo. I give him a 10 peso coin as a commission.

I asked him about crime with all the tourists and money floating around. He laughs and says this is the safest place in town. The cambio owners would not allow anyone to be cheated or robbed. It would ruin the confidence necessary to conduct their business. They are a police force unto themselves.

Later, I checked the math and counted the money and it was all there. My bike sat on the side street unattended and out of sight for maybe 10 minutes. It was undesturbed. 

So Uncle Henry was wrong again. This dangerous border town was just another place along the road. I'm sure that, if I tried, I could find a dark alley where I could find somebody to hit me over the head but that day my biggest problem turned out to be finding the road out of town.

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Regulations Part 2

Maybe I should consider myself lucky that it made it as far as it did. It definitely looks fried. Compare it to the new one on the right.

Just get me to Nashville, and then get me home. That's all I ask.

Presents from heaven

Now it's time to get to work!

Just waiting for the tires now.

Tool Time II

So much of travel is preparation and waiting. The post office alleges that my new regulator will arrive today. The box of stuff I didn't want to take to Mexico is also supposed to get here today. Suddenly the scene changes from patient waiting to one frenetic activity.

Then the sole impediment to progress is the tires. Hurry up and wait.

In the mean time I've gotten Jennie's Suzuki running. It has been taking a 6 month nap and has fallen prey to the Bad Gas Syndrome. Tekron to the rescue! If you don't know about it, Tekron is the absolute best fuel system cleaner. It's available at most every auto parts store.

You have to love Texas!

This is the sign by the door at the restaurant where I am having dinner.

Help!

This is not the adventure I was planning on. My friend Jennie had me drop her off while I took the car to get oil and filter for my bike. No big deal except that this is a new, all computer car. No ignition key.

Jennie has the remote control with her so I can't get the car restarted. Worse, if I get in or out of it the alarm goes off for 2 minutes.

After not getting Jennie for half an hour I had to pee so bad I just jumped out and ran to a nearby restaurant. Everyone looking at me probably thought I was trying to steal the car. Getting back in was equally embarrassing.

I finally got through to Daniel who is coming with the spare remote. Until then I'm trapped inside this psycho machine.

I'll take my good old Chevy pickup any day. It uses real gas and a real ignition key!

It just looks like a parking lot

My friend Jennie has a couple of bikes (doesn't everyone?) and we are planning on going out riding today as soon as the battery is charged.
The tires and new regulator will be here Tuesday so I can just relax and enjoy my friends until then.

The Alamo

History as just another tourist trap. Get your t-shirts and postcards here.

Nothing to see here. Move along.

The last few days, since leaving Parral, have been nothing but chewing up miles. The landscape is generic high desert. If you have ever driven from Winnemucca to Elko Nevada you know all about it. It makes crossing Nebraska seem exciting.
The roads are designed with a straight edge and the sage brush is monotonous in its lack of scope. I waved at all the truck and bus drivers and they are only too happy to wave back. At least I'm able to roll along at 65 mph.
Tonight I expected to stay in a little town called La Pryor TX. Good luck on that. I should have done a bit more research. La Pryor is a high school and a Dollar General store. I ended up in Lytle just as the sunlight died.
Tomorrow I'll be in Austin with my friends Jennie and Daniel.
Time to order those new tires!

Welcome back

The beginning of the next phase in this journey.

Riding north

We all have our horses for our adventures. I'm hoping Don Carranza is bidding me Via Con Dias

The road that never ends

Some times you just want to ride forever.

My last night in Mexico

Out partying with the girls.

Out in the canyons

If you look closely maybe you can see where I lost my tent.

The Race

Will I make it to Austin were new rubber awaits? Or will all the knobs finally fall off leaving me by the side of the road?

I'm going as fast as I can so that I get there before the tire wears out!

Best of bad choices

The electrical gremlins are back. I can't run the headlights and keep the battery charged. Only day time riding until I get it fixed. To make matters worse, my tent worked loose yesterday and got lost so I can only stay in hotels. It must have been all the rough road in the construction.

These two facts severely restrict my travel options. I'm in Hidalgo Del Parral now and will go for Gomez Palacio tonight.

Wish me luck.

At Creel Chihuahua - YEAH!!

Wow! I'm here! Finally!

I arrived last night to find quite the night scene. Isn't this supposed to be a sleepy little logging town? But let me back track a little ...

This is pavement?

The maps and gps files I got from Mark are great but, remember, this is Mexico. What is on the map or on the screen does not necessarily have anything to do with what's on the ground. I was taking a road to cross to Rt 16 which was shown on the map as paved. It as was, as far as this village halfway, and then it just stopped. I rode through the village looking for the road on the other side but nothing. A dirt road to the right where the original road stopped seemed to match a faint trail on the gps. Since it was a long way to backtrack I decided to give it a try.

I'm thinking that some politician promised a road to the villagers but never promised that it would connect on both sides.

So I'm going down the road doing OK. Class 2 & 3 and the AT is handling it well. I´m taking photos here and there and having a good time. Then the bike just quit!

20 miles forward or back and no transportation. I tried the starter a couple of times and then quit because I didn´t want to add a dead battery to my problems. I got off and took off my gear. I needed to relax and think clearly.

The AT has a big tank that hangs down on either side of the engine. My thought (hope?) was that the bike needed to cool off. I had been going slowly over rough terrain and then letting it idle while I took pictures. I decided that nothing was to be lost by taking a 30 minute break.

Then a family appeared. They were just out for a walk from who knows where. So they talked to me in Spanish and didn't understand a word I said in English. The older women seemed to think that if she spoke louder and more forcefully I would somehow get what she was saying.

Afet waiting 30 minutes I got my gear on and gave it a try. After a couple of false starts it caught and ran steadily. RELIEF!! Luckily, it seems that I was victim of good old fashioned vapor lock. The fuel in the carburetors had vaporized. Colling off was just what it needed. Needless to say I did not stop again until I got to Route 16. No problems since so I think I'm OK.

Route 16 is a major route across Mexico. I had invisioned a 4 lane freeway. What I got was 2 lanes of gorgeous beauty through the Sierra Madre but with a surface with more potholes than a Brooklyn neighborhood. I would upload pictures but they are too painful at this internet cafe.

I'll leave you with the Cascada de Bassaseachi. I made a wrong turn and ended up here. It appears to be bigger than any in Yosemite and I can't even imagine how big it would be in April or May. The rocks at the top looked like they were flooded in the spring which would mean about 10 times the volume of water.

So tomorrow I go down into the canyons. After a day or two there I'll turn north and begin the journey homeward.

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There are so many Middles in Nowhere

I'm in Hermosillo now after wandering around the state of Sonora a bit. I'm in an internet cafe attempting to deal with a Spanish keybord. I have no way to post pictures so that will have to wait.

What to tell you? So much seems to have happened in only 3 days. As you can tell from the nightly news I haven't created an international incident (yet).

First, let me say that everything in Mexico is different. Not better or worse, just different. The language is my biggest barrier but I seem to be managing. My biggest fear was not banditos or scorpions but going into a restaurant and making an ass of myself!

Second, this is not Baja. I'm totally off the tourist grid. No cute shops with t-shirts and postcards. And it's not the quaint Mexico of TV land. No colorfully costumed peasants parading for my benefit.

It's been simply ordinary people living ordinary lives that are much like our own - but different.

For instance, the No Passing signs on the highway are merely for amusement. It means "No Passing - Unless you really want to - And don't worry about the blind curve ahead!" Should you be faced with an oncoming pickup in your lane the custom seems to be to slow down and pull over if necessary to let the poor guy back into line. Nobody gets upset or mad, it just seems to be the way it's done on back roads. 

In Arizpe I met Carmen Puente. She is a decendant of General De Anza, the founder of the city of San Francisco! We could bearly understand each other's words but she invited me to see the museum she maintains. The remains of De Anza are entombed in the local church under glass, a bit creepy for me.

Señora Carmen gave me the grand tour of her 2 room museum carefully explaining each item. Suprisingly I understood most of it. I signed the guest book and offered a donation but she refused. Good things are happening on this trip.

I wish I could show you the pictures. The desert and mountains are beautiful. I've gotten off track but I'm so glad I haven't taken the main roads.

There is so much more to tell. I don't know when I'll get to post again but keep watching the SPOT train and you´ll know where I am.

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Maps and More

Before I shut this laptop down I want to say Thanks! to Mark Walker at Mexico Maps.

Mark has provided me with all the paper maps and the gps files I'm using on this trip.

More than that, Mark has been infinitely patient with helping me get the files transfered to my gps. Far beyond the call of duty he has supported me directly. It's so refreshing to talk to a person who remembers my name and my problem. I wasn't just an incident number.

So if I don't get lost on my way through the Copper Canyons it will all be because of Mark's help.

There might be cheaper places to buy maps of Mexico but there are none better!! Buy them from Mark!

Contact Information

We welcome any and all inquiries about our products. Our offices are open Monday through Saturday from 7:00 AM to 5:30 PM Pacific Standard Time. Emails are answered within the same day whenever possible.

Mailing Address

World Map Source / Mexico Maps
3920 Maricopa Drive
Santa Barbara, CA 93110-1414
US

Phone Numbers

phone/fax 805-687-1011
mobile 805-448-7273

Email Link

Mark Walker, mwalker@mexicomaps.com

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South with the morning light

I'm heading into Mexico this morning and should emerge around the 1st of Nov. I was talking to a friend who is in the Texas Attorney General Office about my plans. She is going to check the latest narco-terrorist reports for me so I can come back through the safest crossing. Nice to have friends who care.

Yesterday was spent at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. What an amazing place. The term museum does not do it justice. It's more than just a living museum, it's a living space! Desert flora and fauna all mixed into a 24 acre space. Here's a sample of some of the pictures I took.

Attacked by Whistling Ducks

A rare moment of repose

Almost packed up and loaded now. I'm going to shut my laptop and send it off. See you on the other side.

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The Life of an Artist

It's been a great couple of days here in Tucson. I can see that life is very easy and comfortable here. At least for those with A/C in the summer.

Everyone loves a Grom!

What's better than buying a new bike? Buying a new bike with somebody else's money! Greta has a nearly new BMW F800 ST in the garage but, for a variety of reasons, hasn't ridden it for the past 3-4 years. Although this normally would cause me to file criminal charges we've been discussing a re-entry program to get her back on two wheels.

One problem is that she is an artist who makes her living painting. You can see it here. She broke her wrist In a non-motorcycle accident and couldn't work for some time. No work, no income. Combined with some other factors the BMW got parked and then inertia set in. Then came the fear factor. She wanted to ride and couldn't bring herself to sell the Beemer but was burdened with what-ifs.

Greta is 5'4" and 110 pounds. She needs a smaller, lighter bike to ride around the area. One that she could handle in any situation. What better way to spend an afternoon than to go motorcycle shopping?

We looked at Hondas, Kawasakis, Yamahas, and even Triumphs. It quickly came down to CB300F, CB300R, and Ninja 300. No decision yet but she's thinking ...

In the meantime getting the cobwebs out of the BMW has been a work in progress. The battery is defunct, the gas is ancient, and who knows what is hiding beyond that. Today we'll find out.

So what's it like living with a working artist? Surprise, they work! It's not all brie and chablis gallery parties and glamorous openings. There is the day to day business of art. Frames need to be made, canvases mounted, showings planned. It takes discipline that most people who claim to be artists don't have. (Of course most people who claim to be artists are really just waiters with delusions)

We've spent plenty of time together but she also takes time each day to get the details done that allow her to support herself doing what she loves. 

I have to admit living amid so much art is inspiring. The self-portrait on the wall is amazingly vibrant when I stand in front of it. Say what you want about digital, nothing beats original art on the wall!

So today is my last day in Tucson. I have a lot of packing to do. I'm sending much of my stuff (including this computer) ahead to my next stop in the U.S. I want to carry only the minimum with me in Mexico. I don't want to repeat the problems I had with an overloaded bike when I get to the roads in the Copper Canyon.

I've picked out a route through Mexico and have marked the map but creating an exact schedule is difficult since I don't know what I'll encounter along the way. I might find something that captures my imagination and decide to stay for a couple of days. Or I might find the Sonora desert boring and just move along quickly. Time will tell.

I'll be looking for internet cafés along the way to continue to post my thoughts and pictures. That worked well in Baja a couple of years ago. Stay turned and check out the SPOT tracker to see where this trip is taking me.

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Grand Canyon

What's the point of traveling if you don't even know what you've got at home?

I've visited a lot of other countries and I have yet to get tired of the United States of America. I'm not being nationalistic but this is a great country. It doesn't just match anything elsewhere, it offers a lot more. It's a big country with any type of landscape or cityscape you could desire.

I like Paris. I love Buenos Aires. The Alps are nice and so is Mount Fuji. The Sahara is beautiful and the Mediterranean is too. Then I come home and realize that what we have right in our own back yard is the equal for any of it.

Sure I'm going to see Mexico's Copper Canyons but it's the variety and the chance to meet new people that draws me.

The sun came up and I admit that I dawdled as I packed my bike. I had a choice to make. I wanted to see the Canyon but I also had to get to Tucson in time for dinner with friends. Should I continue on the road I was on and hope it ended at the rim? Should I cut my loses and head back in order to loop up to the South Rim? What to do? What to do?

I decided to continue north and hope for the best. I passed back into the Hualapai reservation and then, finally, into a parking area at the rim. Lots of people gearing up to backpack down into the interior. 

This was the shocker - the camp marked on the map was not on the rim but is down in the canyon! If I had continued last night I would have been stuck at a dead end with no place to sleep.

The Canyon was a thriller as always but a quick look around and I had to depart. There were many miles to go to Tucson.

Now I had to make some time. The 20-30 mile side road turned out to be 60 miles so the first hour was spent just getting back to where I started last night.

At Seligman I stopped for breakfast at Westside Lilo's Cafe. People in this area like to eat well and they like to eat a lot. I asked for eggs and bacon and was served enough for two people. Tried my best but I couldn't finish it.

Now it was time for putting on the miles.

Prescott looked really interesting but I had no time to stop. I was in a hurry. Phoenix at rush hour was tempered by using the HOV lane. Then another 100 miles to Tucson. God, my fanny is sore!

Remember that my phone is dead and I had no WiFi in Yuma? I arrived in Tucson at 6p without the slightest clue about where Greta and Meyer Street were. I had expected to use my computer to get instructions but that didn't work out. Hmmm ...

I had the state map but that was way too general for any street names. I got off the freeway and looked for a store that might have a map. No luck.

I gave up and decided to head downtown. When I drove a cab in Boston the rule of thumb is to ask for directions at a fire house. If I came to one of those I could get help. Apparently they don't have fires in Tucson, I never found a fire station.

Randomly wandering around I found the Police station. Of course it was locked with no way to ask for help. What? No crime either?

I walked around the back and a guy came out in civilian clothes. I asked where I could get help and he asked what I needed. I told him I was looking for Meyer St and he said it was only a few blocks away and pointed the way. He looked at my gear and asked if I was on a motorcycle. I told him he must be a detective. We both laughed.

I pulled up to Greta's knowing I was late and wondered how long I'd have to sit on her porch before she came home. I found an envelope taped to the mailbox with an address to meet her and her friends so I was preparing myself for another quest when this SUV pulled up. 

"Hey, what are you doing over there?" 

It was dark and I couldn't see who it was. I was mentally preparing my defense when I realized that it was Greta!! She had gone out to the store and looped back on the chance that I had finally arrived. 

Long story short, I climbed in and we went to dinner where I met her friends, Deb & Mike. A great dinner in great company that lasted into the night. Then we returned to Meyer St and talked for another couple of hours to catch up. 

Old friends are the best friends.

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Yuma and Beyond

The Yuma Cabana turned out to be the usual mix of good and bad. It was clean and cheap with a great bed to sleep in. The bike was securely hidden behind the building, locked up to a sturdy steel pipe. However, the A/C didn't work and neither did the WiFi. Luckily it wasn't too hot and I was too tired for computing so no great loss.

In the morning I went out and bought an Arizona map. No small challenge in the age of smart phones. I wanted a big picture view of my destination and the ability to look at alternative routes. Something you just can't do on a tiny screen.

I had a day to explore before getting to Tucson and what jumped out at me was that our very own Grand Canyon was due north. And herein lies a problem ...

I'm from New England. Everything in New England is measured in inches. However, I'm now out west where everything is measured in miles. It looked as if the Grand Canyon was a good ride for the day but not a brutal trek. There was parts of the old Route 66 to explore along the way. What could go wrong?

A dollar a gallon cheaper than back home!

Heading north was easy and was just more land across the desert.

Dome Rock on the horizon

Lake Havasu City seems to be the retirement capitol of the U.S. west of Florida. What really surprised me was the number of nicely restored muscle cars being driven around. That and those side by side utility vehicles which are apparently legal to drive on the road. I drove over London Bridge but was extremely underwhelmed.

Further north and it was time to fuel the body and the bike. Silly Al's was just the place for lunch. I'm getting better at picking places where the locals hang out.

Then onto the old Route 66 to take a trip into the past. Frankly, I think too much has been made of the Rt 66 mystique. It's just a road. However, when there are no other cars around (and there aren't many) it's easy to imagine yourself in a '52 Hudson crossing the country before there were Interstates and chain restaurants.

The road flowed within the geography rather than cutting through it. Rolling through the mountains towards Kingman was a chance to see through other eyes and look back in time if I squinted a little. 



As it got later I was beginning to realize that the Canyon was beyond my grasp for the day. In Peach Springs I inquired about a local hotel but $120 for the night was beyond my budget. Plan B was to cut across the Hualapai reservation to a campsite on the south rim. I liked this better because it looked way off the normal path for tourists.

Once again I was fooled by my map. I guessed the campground to be about 20-30 miles up the side road. It was dark and cold and I was tired. At least the road was paved but at 20 miles I wasn't feeling confident that the end was near. 

I saw an Elk stag alongside the road which made me slow up a little. Then an elk doe and calf a mile or two further. An elk calf is about the size of a full grown deer. Nothing I want to hit at night. 

30 miles and it's not looking good. 40 miles and I run into a sign that says I'm on some ranch with a lot of restrictions. What?! However, luck was with me once again and some hunters stopped and told me where I could set up camp for the night. I was only to happy to accept their suggestion. Thanks!

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