Mexico - Day 6 - Part 1

Note: I've been back in Connecticut for about 10 days. The recent posts are to back fill and expand the spaces where I wasn't able to post pictures or complete reports while south of the border. Some people's comments implied that there was some confusion about this.

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Breakfast at Margarita's was good and I packed up and hit the road. My plan was to visit Urique for the night and then bushwhack over to Batopilas the next day. As usual, my plan was long on imagination and short on reality.

Everything went well as far as El Divisadero. It was a pleasant road on a warm morning that paralleled the railroad tracks. I was hoping to see one of the trains but was disappointed. I would have checked the schedule if I had known how close they were.

At El Divisadero I paid my 20 peso fee and entered the Parque Ecoturistico Barrancas del Cobre. This is somewhat amusing as the Parque is composed only of a few viewing points into the canyons. 

However, the view is worth every peso!! This is four photos stitched together and it doesn't begin to convey the immense size and scope of the grandeur before me.

I walked from point to point trying to take it all in. I couldn't. At the Grand Canyon there were defined edges, this is the south rim, that is the north rim, those are some pinnacles sticking up. Here it was just too big. No matter where I looked it just kept going, on and on. If my eyes focused on one thing they lost something else.

So I got back on my bike, more than a little humbled by the landscape, and headed for Bahuichivo. There were plenty of signs and a brand new road. An easy ride today, What could go wrong?

In the U.S. they pave the roadbed, then they put in the guard rails, then they paint the stripes, and finally they open the road. It seems in Mexico they do it all at once. The pavement just stopped. As you can see the guard rails are in place, and the stripes are only a hundred meters behind me. I cautiously moved forward thinking that the knobbie tires would take me through the construction site but there was nowhere to go. They hadn't dug out the route yet and there was only the hills and cliffs on the other side. Not that anyone cared. If I had given it a try I'm sure they would have cheered me on and laughed when I tumbled into the canyon below.

What seems to have happened is that there was a sign that diverted me over to a detour. This was up a pretty sketchy single lane road that had loaded dump trucks coming down. They would have considered the mighty Africa Twin no more than another bump in the road as their brakes squealed in protest all the way down the hill. In this confusion I seemed to have missed the road for Cerocahui which would have led me to Urique. 

Now it was past noon and I had used up a lot of gas. I wasn't expecting to find more along the way so I decided head back towards Creel and then directly to Batopilas. I refilled my tank at the PeMex station where I turned off towards Cusarare. I was surprised to find Lago de Arareco (Lake Arareco) so close to Creel. There appeared to be cabanas for rent and it is something I will definitely investigate when I come back.

I named this Beauty Break Point

The road was filled with more of the same beauty that I was becoming familiar with. A wonderful ride on a wonderful day. The only problem was, Where was the adventure?

More about that when I return next time ...

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Thanksgiving

I haven't gotten anything done lately because a wicked cold has taken me off the grid.

Against all the platitudes of today, and all the madness that will follow tomorrow, I will post an article from James Clear who I have a lot of respect for.

How to Be Thankful For Life by Changing Just One Word

by James Clear — Get free updates of new posts here

My college strength and conditioning coach, Mark Watts, taught me an important lesson that applies to life outside of the gym…

As adults, we spend a lot of time talking about all of the things that we have to do.

You have to wake up early for work. You have to make another sales call for your business. You have to work out today. You have to write an article. You have to make dinner for your family. You have to go to your son’s game.

Now, imagine changing just one word in the sentences above.

You don’t “have” to. You “get” to.

You get to wake up early for work. You get to make another sales call for your business. You get to work out today. You get to write an article. You get to make dinner for your family. You get to go to your son’s game.

I think it’s important to remind yourself that the things you do each day are not burdens, they are opportunities. So often, the things we view as work are actually the reward.

Embrace your constraints. Fall in love with boredom. Do the work.

You don’t have to. You get to.

James Clear writes about science-based ideas for living a better life and building habits that stick. If you enjoyed this article, then join his free newsletter.

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Mexico - Day 5

I arrived in Creel after dark and it looked like a scene out of American Graffiti. Seriously, there were all these cars and pickups driving up and down the single main street. My first thought was, "Wow, what a lot of tourists!"

I had a map in my guide book and was looking for Casa Margarita which was described as a "bustling backpackers scene". It sounded like my kind of place. However, after a couple of ventures into the area where it was supposed to be located I gave up. I was tired, it was dark, and I was losing hope. This was not a sleepy little logging town anymore.

So I found the Hotel del Centro. Simple enough, it was off the main street, had parking for the bike, and looked clean. I had to go around the corner and ask in the grocery store about a room. They asked 350 pesos, I told them I would pay 300 peso, they agreed. Score!

Only one problem, the two handles in the shower were Cold and Not Quite As Cold. It made for a very refreshing shower. And a very quick one. I went out on the street for a while but it was too hectic and I was too tried. Off to bed.

In the morning I had breakfast at the Cafe Veronica and walked through town to get my bearings. My impression was much more positive in the daylight. Much more colorful and much less touristy than I thought.

NEW RULE: When entering a new town, park the bike and walk through the town. It's the only way to see and learn anything.

I found Casa Margarita right where it was supposed to be. I had missed it in the dark the night before due to the lack of any prominent sign. I went in and found that it had gone upscale since the guide book had been written. Still, it was a destination I'd been looking for and it had a hot shower. I took it for the night. This gave me two rooms but I didn't have to move the bike or my gear so I chalked it up to experience.

The day was a rest day to relax and explore. I took my time wandering around and found an internet cafe to catch up on my email and post a couple of pictures.

The train station is off the plaza and runs once a day in each direction. It's the famed El Chepe that runs along the canyon rim providing spectacular views.

Stolen from the internet

I bought some postcards and sat in the plaza writing notes while watching the world go slowly by. There were people selling native crafts and things but I had no room on the bike to store them so all I could do was offer my admiration.

At the post office I made a bit of a fool of myself. I walked up to the door and pulled on the handle to open it. It seemed locked and didn't budge. I looked at the schedule posted and it should have been open. I stood there for a few moments wondering what to do when the Postmaster came and opened the door for me. I should have pushed rather than pulled. We both laughed and shrugged it off. I got my stamps and beat an embarassed retreat. Oh well, I've done dumber things ...

Dinner was included in the price of my room at Margarita's so I went there to eat. Curiously, nobody asked if I was supposed to be there. It was a fixed menu and when I sat down they brought me food. It was a different staff so they didn't know me from when I rented the room, they just trusted that I should be there. Try to find that north of the border.

The evening traffic seemed much less frenetic than the previous evening and I went to bed early. Tomorrow, the canyons.

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Mexico - Day 4

When we last left our intrepid aventurer, he was casting about for a place to pitch his tent for the night. As we listen in we hear him say, "Dang, it sure gets dark when the sun goes down!"

Hmmm. Maybe I've been listening to too many old time radio shows.

I took what appeared to be a road to nowhere and went about 4 miles before selecting a wide flat spot for the night. It must have been a road to somewhere because several cars and pickups, plus a person on a horse, passed by in the night. On person yelled Buenos Noches but the rest just ignored me. So much for the dangerous Mexican outback.

In the morning I found that the low bushes on the side of the road were, in fact, the tops of tall trees anchored to the side of a steep slope. One missed curve and ...   As always, ignorance is bliss.

Meson D'Lucy

Inside with a real fireplace and shrine

Lucy

In Yecorra I stopped for gas and was determined to find a real breakfast in a local place. The first place I stopped at was closed but they told me how to find another place. This turned out to be Meson D'Lucy.

With surprisingly little fuss I ordered breakfast and it was great! I'm getting much better at this.

Mex 16 turned out to be a wonderful ride. I am out of the flat desert and begin winding through beautiful hills.

In any mountains there are falling rocks, in the Mexican mountains they don't clear them out very often. Just something to keep you on your toes. Along with dodging the goats and cattle, skirting the potholes, and avoiding the sand on the road.

I was heading for Creel today, the gateway town of the Copper Canyons. My plan was to just ride east on Mex 16, take a right at the big road, left at the next big road, and cruise into town.

Fortunately, I took a wrong turn. The road seemed odd and then I ended up in a parking lot. I was at the Cascada de Basaseachi.

I was ready for a break so I hiked the 1.5 km trail to the head of the falls.

This was pretty spectacular. They have viewing platforms for you to look over the edge and stairs down to the stream in case you want to get really up close and personal. Including falling off the edge if you want to. Those little green things at the bottom are fully grown pine trees!

I was thinking that it would be nice to see this from the other side but didn't see any path around the canyon. Besides, I needed to get going if I was to get to Creel soon. So I backtracked and found the correct right turn.

However, my luck held and the road to Creel took me past another sign that said Cascada de Basaseachi. Seven miles down this road took me to the far wall of the canyon and the view I had wished for. Wow! To think that this was October and the water was 1/10^th of the flow in the spring. How spectacular that must be.

After lingering for a while I got back on the bike and headed south. More about that tomorrow.

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Triumph Eye Candy

Something fun while I work to get the BritIron newletter out. More Mexico tomorrow.

TriDays is an annual week long celebration of all things Triumph in Austria. 21-28 June 2015. I'm thinking that a ride from London to Neukirchen could be my next adventure. Anyone want to join me?

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Mexico - Day 3

After leaving Arizpe and Senora Carmen I went south on Route 89 until I got to Rt 14. This was supposed to take me east until I could cross over to Mex 16, the main highway. However, some road sign, that I don't remember now, warned me about this path so I decided to head west to Hermosillo and take the long way around. I ended up spending the night in Ures, a small town with a main street about 15 blocks long and about 6 blocks wide. 

I got there early enough that I was able to ride back and forth a couple of times to get an idea of what the town was like. It had one hotel next to a PeMex station so I got a room for the night for 300 pesos (US$25). It was neat and clean with plenty of hot water so I was happy.

After a shower I ventured out to get something to eat. This sign had attracted my attention previously so I went there. Another open air restaurant with an grill. I asked for a hamgurguesa which is a baby step toward ordering native food. That went fine until the girl asked me what I wanted on it. She could have mentioned arsenic for all I understood.

I motioned that she should follow me over to the sign which was a few feet away and we played Point and Speak. Lechuga = lettuce, onion = cebolla, tomato and tomate are pretty close, but queso had me stumped until she pointed to the cheese. We both smiled and laughed and I learned new words. Plus, it was a great hamburger!

The next morning I got on the road and headed into Hermosillo. Quite by chance I came upon the Honda dealer. I found that I needed some oil and after some references to my phrase book I got a liter of oil (aceite) and borrowed a funnel (embudo). Life is good!

Trying to find Hwy 20 to the east was a challenge but with the maps and gps I was getting there. Then the dreaded Policia roadblock appeared up ahead. Remember when I mentioned that I didn't get the vehicle papers for the bike? Now was the time to care about such trivial details.

However, not to worry. Whatever or whoever they were looking for, I wasn't it. They questioned me about what I was doing and where I was going. They asked if I was "Americano" which seemed kind of obvious considering the American flag patch on my jacket but I merely replied "Si". They poked at my bags and then waved me ahead. Bullet dodged.

Hwy 20 wasn't much to speak of. Two lanes through farm and ranch country. I came to the turnoff for Soyopa and took the cross road to Mex 16. This was a very new road and I was thinking that I would be able to make some good time. Which I did until I got to Soyopa. There the road just ended. 

I rode through the village a couple of times thinking the road might continue on the other side but no luck. This presented a problem since I would lose a day if I had to backtrack to Hermosillo. 

The map showed a finished highway all the way through but the gps showed only a path that continued on. However, the path did appear to go all the way to Mex 16 so I decided to give it a try. I had nothing to lose and could always turn back if it got too difficult.

Some places were worse than others but it was pleasant and I stopped here and there to take pictures.

The cattle guards were challenging since they were just wide enough apart to trap the front tire and send me over the handle bars. The trick was to swing wide and cross it at a 45 degree angle.

Moto Muerto!

Then tragedy struck! The engine stopped and wouldn't restart! 

Don't panic! was my first thought. Even though it was 20 miles back to the village I wasn't hurt and had plenty of food and water. A moment of reflection suggested that maybe the engine had overheated. It was hot and I had been trolling along enjoying the day and left the engine running each time I had stopped to take a picture. Maybe letting it cool off would restore its motive powers.

So I sat down and waited. Now, like I said, I was 20 miles from Soyopa in (you guessed it) the middle of nowhere. So along comes this family out for a stroll. A 20-something mother with an infant and a 6ish child plus her mother and father. They asked me questions which I didn't understand and I responded in ways they thought were hilarious. The older woman seemed to think that leaning closer and speaking louder would make me understand but it didn't. It only made the rest of them laugh louder.

Finally I decided that the 30 minutes were up and put on my gear in the hope that the bike would start and I could be on my way. It coughed to life and, with a wave to my new amigos, I headed on down the road. My best guess is that I was a victim of good old fashioned carburetor vapor lock.

Getting to Mex 16  was one of the happiest moments of the trip. From that time on I turned off the engine whenever I stopped for a picture or nature call.

Mex 16 may be the main east-west highway in northern Mexico but it is far from the boring super highway I had feared. It turned out to be a joy to ride most of the time and very scenic. It was getting late because of the time I had lost so I began the hunt for a camping spot. More about that tomorrow.

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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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