The Sierra De Pachuca's and my last night in Mexico

 

Cactus's reaching for the skies in the Sierra De Pachuca's

As I got out of my bed and got ready for another day on the  road, it was 6:30 am and once again the firecrackers were starting. I guess here as in many countries loud noises like fireworks are common with celebrations. For me I wasn't viewing it that way at all, and it reminded me I was in someone else's country with their own customs, even though I was having a hard time with fireworks at 6:30 in the morning.

As I got on my bike and started riding again I had to debate whether I was going to try to find a radiator shop and bank and try to fix my leak or just drive it to Texas. I had already driven it from Mexico City and it seemed to be doing alright. I thought if I ran into a bank and a radiator shop I would try, which in Mexico means neither will happen without effort, so I guess I was going to try to make it to Brownsville Texas. Though in these mountains there seemed to be a radiator shop in every town, though none appeared open first thing in the morning. Well I tried.... :)

The center top ridge is where I just came from and it is here I'm watching for the ever dangerous and annoying torch runners to come from so I can stay ahead of them.

It was very cold riding as I started out, in fact it felt like we almost had had a frost during the night. Most of the winding roads coming in and out of canyons were still in shadows in the morning and they weren't warming up too fast. I wasn't on the road 10 minutes it seemed when I ran into my first torch runners. Another long line of buses, cars and a police car with flashing lights. After the previous night of getting caught behind these slow moving caravans I had little patience for them this morning and seeing traffic was light up here in these distant mountains I wasted no time zipping around the whole mess and getting ahead of them. It was Friday and I would be passing different forms of Virgin Mother's celebrations all day.

I thought at first these might be Sequoia Cactus's but I'm unsure.

The drive this morning was just beautiful. The cactus standing high all over this high desert would give way to Pine Trees later which as I came down in elevation would give way to waterfalls and tropical like vegetation. It was going to be an interesting day for travel.

You can see the smoke rising from these fireworks set off down in the valley at a hotel on this morning. I would soon be passing right by it and heading up the other side of the canyon. The first of many to come.

It was also going to be a slow day for travel. My first 100 miles took me between 5 and 6 hours to cover. These roads were so winding and steep, with such sharp curves and at times torn up surfaces, that 10 to 15 miles an hour was the best you could hope for. The views were magnificent and riding along a ledge that had a drop of anywhere from 5000 to 9000 feet was not uncommon. I have been on many mountain roads before from the Western U.S. to the Appalachians to mountain ranges in Europe but seldom have I been on anything quite like this. I really felt like I was in the Swiss Alps again, or even somewhere in the Andes which is how I imagine them to look. With beautiful valleys and towns built onto the mountain sides, about the only thing they lacked was glaciers.

Its so hard to describe how beautiful these mountains and their passes are. I compare them to the Alps or perhaps the Andes.

As I passed thru one village after another, and one Virgin Mother Celebration after another, and out of one canyon and valley only to pass into another one, I was beginning to wonder if this road or the mountains were ever going to end. At one point I passed a village and shrine and then for perhaps the next 5 miles or so there were people walking up the mountain in the opposite lane towards me even as trucks came rumbling thru curves to spring quickly onto all these pedestrians. It was typical in the sense that any main highway in Mexico or Central America is also a main passage for the locals, their animals, and whatever else needs a clear path to walk on. Unfortunately all the fast moving cars and trucks share this passageway. It is considered normal here, a normal risk of everyday life, that sometimes ends up taking it.

One of the many Mother of Guadeloupe shrines along the side of the road where people come and have services, prayers and pay their respects.

I stopped for gas and a lady was at the pump selling me tacos. I hadn't had breakfast yet so I bought some, plus I really needed to warm up, it was cold. Everyone seemed to be dressed for snow up here, even though it seldom does, if ever. Still I knew I wasn't the only one that felt the cold. After getting back on the road the road continued to snake in and out of valleys next to huge rock faces and even some of the first waterfalls I had seen in Mexico. It was all very beautiful, and the mountains and the people all seem to say this is a very different part of Mexico then the rest, in fact it felt very different then any part of my trip so far. It also made me want to come back to it as well. Like it would be a safe place to explore, and much of it being a National Park meant you camp as well as hike in it. I think it may even be part of the Jaguar's range, though maybe a little high up.

One of the many passes and views in the Sierra De Pachuca's, at 9000 feet you could touch the sky it seemed.

After about a hundred miles, five hours and me wondering if I was ever going to get out of these mountains I came upon another huge valley and I could see the road snaking down towards the flats way down below. This is when I realized I had been traveling at about the 9000 foot altitude level. Pretty high up for a road in just about any part of the world, no wonder I was cold! I started the long descent to the valley miles below and with each passing curve downwards the temperature became warmer and the vegetation more tropical, until I was passing vendors selling oranges and pineapples again. Soon I was sweating and wondered if my bike really could handle the heat without any coolant. I knew my lazy side was winning, but I just didn't want to stop and have to deal with it, it had come this far apparently ok. Though I continued to look for a shop that might fix it along the way.

I believe this is either El Zoquital or Zacualtipan tucked away in the "Alps" here. It is hard to know sometimes since towns seldom have city limit signs coming into them.

As I made my way thru towns with names like Huejutla, Puaton and Tempoal, usually getting lost temporarily in each one, the road had straightened out and I continued to see more signs for Tampico. I didn't want to go into Tampico again, in fact I was looking for a highway that went around it completely coming out north of there, but I couldn't find it and knew really, I was lucky to have found the one I was on. Sometimes simply knowing where you are at is better then maybe looking for the shortest route and getting lost again! So it seemed I was destined to see Tampico again. The first city I had really gotten lost in coming down and had taken two hours to find the road out of it that I needed.

As the afternoon was wearing on and I stopped for gas, the sign said I was about 60 kilometers from Tampico, or about 36 miles. If I could get on the other side of the city with light of day to spare I could probably put in another hundred miles or so towards the Texas border. As far as I could remember Tampico was somewhere between 200 and 250 miles from the border. And it was a straight shot almost, no turns, only a couple of towns that weren't very big to deal with. Any where north of Tampico would put me in really good shape for the morning ride back to the states. Tampico felt like my last obstacle in Mexico, but something told me there probably would be something else. A country with military check points, police check points, immigration check points, weekend long festivals on the roads, speed bumps in every town, extreme heat and cold, winding mountain roads sometime blocked for hours by accidents, traffic jams and at times roads that can barely be called roads, it seemed yes there probably would be something else.

As I arrived in Tampico recognizing some of the roads I had previously been lost on which you think would of helped me get my bearings but really didn't, I pulled into a gas station to go the bathroom. They wanted one Pesos to use it, which I thought I put in but for some reason the door wouldn't work. I mumbling walked away as another guy got up to it and put some money in, I warned him it didn't work but he put his money in and it did. As he went in I jumped in behind him before the door closed. I had already lost enough Pesos in these bathroom machines and wasn't going to be denied here. Plus I had to go!

The views coming down from the high passes just kept getting better.

We started talking in the bathroom, he spoke very little English, and my Spanish while certainly better then when I came down is not conversational yet. Still I showed him my map and where I was going. He rattled off every town I had to go towards and thru to get to Matamoros (the Mexican border town) and the states. I didn't realize it at the time but this was incredibly helpful. Had he not rattled off all these names as I drove into Tampico I would have missed a number of exits that were labeled with some of the towns he told me. I'm sure he saved me an hour or so of being lost in Tampico again. Who knows maybe I would have run into that lady at the toll booth again!

This all brings to mind again that I could not have done this trip alone. From people following the trip and giving me encouragement on my blogging site to the many many locals who try' d their best to help me even though they didn't always understand what I was asking. Or when I wasn't sure how much they were asking for a product or service I would hold out some money and they would simply take the money they needed. I never felt I was ripped off this way, because for the most part I knew what the money was worth, just not exactly how much they were asking for. So again for all my and others fears of the danger of traveling down here, and there are some certainly like anywhere, for the most part it was the kindness or at worst the lack of interest of the locals that allowed me to pass and go about my business. Kind of an interesting phenomenon of foreign travel I think, this feeling of isolation in another culture and thinking that perhaps by some grace outside of yourself you are allowed to pass. A basic respect and tolerance by people for others that is more universal then a non traveler might think.

It was just a beautiful day for travel.

So after my conversation in the bathroom I headed for Tampico and found all the exits I needed from his directions and after paying one last toll booth (and no that lady wasn't there again, at least not in my lane) I made my way out of the city and began the last leg in Mexico. I had one last highway to find, that was 180 that cut off of 80 and would keep me from having to go into Cuidad Victoria, another large city, and also save me some mileage. After about 30 miles and thinking I had missed another highway there was a huge sign for the exit, its like you couldn't miss it. I was thinking why couldn't the rest of Mexico be this well marked. I know this was a well traveled route to the U.S. and Matamoros but still it was like reaching another country as far as the roads went, yet I was still in Mexico. Its why I looked at reaching this part of Mexico as if the journey south of the border was all but over.

With good roads and clear weather I drove into the night finally stopping at Tres Palos about 150 miles from the border. Finding a hotel for about $20 and then dinner for about $8 (I felt being close to the border I was overcharged for dinner. Also the waiter corrected me on my Spanish somewhat arrogantly I thought, however he did roll his r's beautifully and I had to for the first time appreciate how beautiful the language is when spoken so well), I then could go to bed knowing I would probably be in the U.S. fairly early in the day on Saturday.

Some farmland south of Tres Palos where I would spend my last night in Mexico.

That was a good feeling, but I had so much more to do and such a long way to go. I had come about 2600 miles from San Jose, Costa Rica in about 10 days which was kind of amazing in itself. Once in Texas I would still have about 2000 miles to go to get back to Michigan, and already in Mexico I was getting glimpses of how cold it was going to be up there. Following the weather in the U.S. as I could it looked doubtful that I was going to get that 3 or 4 day break in winter weather I would need to drive the whole way home. In fact not only had most of the U.S. got an early winter, it had stay' d without any real breaks in it either. The weather now  in the U.S. was in the teens or below zero in most of the country. While I had been thru a lot on this trip including cold, I wasn't prepared to go 2000 miles in freezing weather and with the danger of ice on the roads.

I was to find out for what gear I had left and what little gear I could buy, 40 degrees and rain was about the most I could handle for hours on end. And that was by no means comfortable, but was doable.

Of course if this whole trip has taught me anything, its one day at a time, one town at a time, one storm at a time, one traffic jam at a time, one stretch of highway at a time and maybe most important, worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes, all you can do is what your doing now. Still it was hard not to think about those arctic temperatures not even a thousand miles north.......

Tomorrow I'm back in the states......and also probably my next post will just be on border crossings, what I paid going down, and what I paid coming back, and possible strategies for all situations. I have had some positive feedback from people who are planning on or are now traveling in Central America in regards to posts that contained information in this area. So I'm hoping one of the goals of this site which is to provide useful information to others will do just that. Border crossings are such a big part of the trip down here ( I would say a third of how the trip goes centers around them), not only because you have to do so many of them, but also because they can take up a lot of time and money if your not prepared, and if you don't speak Spanish and have never done them before its hard to be totally  prepared for what your in store for. Any planning and preparation you can do ahead of time can pay off ten fold in regards to borders, or really any part of your trip.

Mexico City and Pachuca

After getting up I had breakfast and headed out towards Mexico City. Being that most of the road runs thru the mountains and is quite high up, it actually felt cold. The first cold I had felt since early in my trip in Texas on my way south. I was about 160 miles from Mexico City and since it was basically a toll road and a freeway going there I expected to make good time. I thought if I hit it about lunch time this would give me all afternoon if needed to get across it without encountering the evening rush hour. Like that would make any difference, since I think it is probably always  rush hour there. Though I can't imagine what the go home rush hour looks like.

The highway was dotted with some magnificent views. As I said in my previous post the toll road running from Acapulco to Mexico City is as modern as any Interstate in the U.S. and some of the rivers and canyons it crosses, sometimes with thousand foot drops, seemed to have made them have to create architectural and engineering wonders. It was impressive, and also I guess because it was a toll road, traffic was quite light.

The closer you get to Mexico City the more the highway climbs. Up and up until you pretty much know your going to get to the top and then descend into this huge valley and city of 20 million people. At one point I got a glimpse of the huge volcano that overlooks the whole valley and the city, but found it, like most views of the city as well, became lost in smog. There is no great view of the valley, city and volcano all together, at least not on this day. The smog hangs over the whole valley and seems to cut visibility down to a mile or two. So the awe inspiring view of a city this size I expected to see did not happen.

What looks to be tepee's of a type of hay dot these fields just before Mexico City.

I continue to descend into the city, there is one last toll booth to pay at. I find it kind of funny how you pay to get on, and then have to pay to get off, seemingly not getting anything for your money after the last time you pay except to be ushered into the city traffic and streets.

I remembered looking at my city map of Mexico City and seeing how the toll road ends and just turns into a main street heading north right thru the city. I also see that highway 105 which I need to pick up to keep heading north thru Mexico runs thru a town called Pachuca about 30 or 40 miles north of the city. So this then needs to be my strategy. Too stay on this road thru the city which appears to basically head due north, no matter what, and hope it eventually leads me to some signs for either highway 105, or Pachuca.

I have read different accounts by world travelers traveling in such obscure places like Mongolia where with no signs to go by, and incomplete maps at best, one basically must return to ones instincts. Almost like being lost in the woods, one must get a bearing on the sun or whatever to first determine your direction, then like in this case knowing there are only a given number of roads that will eventually take you cross country to your destination (in Mexico like in Mongolia usually just one), keep heading in the direction you need to go in and in a process of elimination, eventually find the road you need. This coupled with the universal asking of directions, usually gets you on the road you were looking for. Eventually, and usually.......

This strategy worked really well for Mexico City. I was just glad I came in on a road that basically didn't change direction and I didn't have to get off of to find another road. Though I wasn't sure it would work until I got on the north side of the city, I just inched my way along  in the traffic and kept moving. And there are some things I have learned about traffic jams in my travels.

One is you will always encounter them, certainly at places of construction, cities or public events. Two, in Central America and Mexico since there are so few roads or freeways that actually go around towns, you will certainly find them at just about every village or city you have to go through. The size of the traffic jam being determined to a big degree of course by the size of the village or town encountered. And finally the most important thing to remember is that they do move. I think everyone will agree, we have never got in a traffic jam that didn't eventually move and we were able to get out of. Worth remembering every time the thought occurs "I'm never going to get out of here, or this traffic is never going to move so maybe I need to find a different route". When you feel like you already maybe lost, trying to find another route, especially in Mexico City, may not be the best option. For me patience was the word of the day.

Welcome to the state of Morelos, this sign was at the mountain pass going the other way just before Mexico City.

I had planned on at least 4 hours to cross Mexico City, not even knowing the distance I needed to go, what roads I would need to use, or what the traffic would be like ( this is another instance where tour books, better maps, and better planning all could of paid off big time for me). Amazingly it took about two hours. I just stay' d on my original road which first crossed thru the new city where I went by what looked like the 1968 Olympic Stadium and some other major downtown attractions, and then headed thru the old city. This road had 3 or 4 lanes going each way (along with a bus lane) and we just seemed to inch our way from one traffic light to another, with all lanes being full. No one really beeped their horns much, or hurried, this was just a fact of every day life here, you moved when the person ahead of you moved, at least that was my attitude and seemed to be shared by everyone. But that didn't mean if you saw an opening to change lanes or gain that extra few feet to get across the city you didn't take it!

Its worth mentioning here that in many places, especially Costa Rica where there are so many small motorcycles (usually in the 90cc to 125cc range) that if riding one one can save an amazing amount of time by going between cars, passing on the right, moving to the head of any line and even running red lights. Its sort of like if you can do it, do it (after almost 5000 miles south of the border, I don't think I ever saw anyone get pulled over for a traffic violation, except me once!). I think its not only not seen as being rude, its expected of bikes to be driven this way. And maybe even this way they don't take up a whole lane that a car could use. While I don't know if I would say bikes are more respected down here or not, I do think people are more aware of them, and I often saw even the smallest of bikes moving slow out on a main highway be given the same lane recognition that a car would get, not always, but most of the time. Of course Guatemalan busses come to mind, but they didn't seem to give respect to any creature, whether alive or dead!

For me having a bigger bike, and coming from a place where it maybe either seen as being rude or you might get a ticket for driving like this, I usually didn't take advantage of my size. No doubt standing out to other drivers like a sore thumb waiting in traffic that other bikes would have simply gone around, or gone thru between the parked cars. Though the longer I am down here, and in certain circumstances I do begin to go around or thru traffic. And I begin to understand that driving down here is just a way of life. Not really that different then negotiating the L.A. freeways every day, the Ohio Turnpike, or a New York rush hour.

This all being said I definitely was not taking any chances here. There were no places to park or pull over, these were strictly traffic lanes. Where ever people parked for work or whatever other business they might have wasn't on this road. This made it hard like many other places in Mexico for stopping and taking any pictures. It also made it hard when I noticed my temperature gauge was running hotter then ever and I could smell radiator fluid and wanted to pull over to check it out. There wasn't any place to do so and I certainly didn't want to make any turns here. My mind set was very simple, just head north. No turns, stops or anything. A driver next to me pointed to the bottom of my bike and I looked down and saw a puddle of anti-freeze. If I had been driving a car I would have had to stop and deal with an overheated engine. But I figured since most bikes are air cooled anyway, I was hoping it would not overheat enough to do any damage and I could at least get it out of the city before dealing with it. Like most of the lower elevations in Mexico, Mexico City was hot. The coolness of the morning and being up in the mountains had given way to the heat along the valley floor and the city. In my sort of I'll deal with it later philosophy, I just kept going. I didn't have a lot of choice since I couldn't even pull over without blocking a lane.

Mexico City did impress me in ways, at least the small amount of it I was seeing. The downtown area seemed to have a lot of interesting architecture and just reminded me culturally and business wise of any other major city I had been in. I could see it would be a neat place to come back to and really spend some time visiting. Even though the traffic and smog seemed overwhelming at times, and there were even people wearing filter masks, I assume to help with pollution, it just seemed to have so much to offer, and I also got a sense it was a world city with all the amenities and problems that come with being one. Yes I so hope I get a chance to get back.

The bike was running hot, but never got into the red zone. The thing is, once it ran out of coolant the temperature gauge and the external fan for cooling wouldn't work because there wasn't any fluid to get a temperature reading from. At one point once I got out of the city I did put some water in it but of course that leaked out as well.

So after about 2 hours of sticking religiously to the street I was on I came upon a divided highway and a sign for Pachuca, the next town I needed. It seemed almost too easy and I was grateful. For something I had worried about so much, it turned out to be not that hard after all, and nothing major had happened. In fact Pachuca, Tampico and Veracruz and countless other cities much smaller then Mexico City proved to be a lot more trouble to cross or find directions in.

As I began to clear the city traffic and head out towards Pachuca I felt good that that obstacle was passed, and I was just that much closer to Texas and the states. Pachuca looked to be a town of about 100 or 150 thousand people nestled up on the south side of the Sierra De Pachuca mountain range.

 

Getting thru the city of Pachuca to this point overlooking it just north of Mexico City was one of the hardest things to do on the whole trip.

I had checked my bike and it looked like just the drain plug had snapped off of the radiator and that's where it was leaking fluid. It seemed a small problem and I was glad it wasn't a hole in the radiator itself. The question is where would I stop to try to get it fixed, and also I didn't have many Pesos left and getting it fixed in Mexico might mean I would have to find a bank and change more dollars. Finding a bank down here is never my a favorite thing to do. As mentioned before they are often buried in cities somewhere, where there is a lot of traffic and people. You have to more or less leave your bike out in the open so someone could snatch something off of it. Go thru a metal detector to get in the bank, struggle with the language barrier, get it done and then find your way back thru the traffic and people to the main highway. No, I know I could look at it differently but finding bands and going thru all that just isn't fun, and its also very time consuming. At this point I thought since the bike seemed to be doing ok I thought I would just try to make it to a hotel and then in the morning maybe look for a bank and a mechanic to see if they could fix it.

So I headed into Pachuca hoping to find my highway 105 heading north, get on the other side of the city and then start the trip up 105 hopefully going around Tampico, a town that I had been lost in the first time thru for several hours. I knew once I got north of Tampico the roads would be good again and it would be a straight shot to Matamoros and Brownsville Texas. Tampico was the last city going north that I thought would pose any problem, either with traffic or getting lost. I was getting close to the states and I knew it. Having just got thru Mexico City it seemed like only a few obstacles remained. One of them being Pachuca, and the Pachuca Mountains.

Pachuca turned out to be one of my hardest cities to cross and find the highway I needed out of it. Its a cross roads for about 6 major highways coming in from every direction and I'm sure I got on each one of them at one point or another. I had to continually stop and ask directions. I would get directions, make one turn, and then go ask someone again. Always narrowing my search but never quite finding the right road. And the old problem of not having a more detailed map came up to get me. Though I'm not sure that would necessarily have helped since not everything is on every map anyway. So many times the town they used as a direction indicator would be changed to another town at the next direction indicator or turnoff. So you would be looking for something saying  Pachuca  to head for, but instead of that major of a town to use as a direction they would put in something quite smaller so I wouldn't know I should have turned there. This continually using different towns names for directions would give me problems on the whole trip, and certainly going north towards Tampico would be no different. At one point I got a sign saying Tampico 360 kilometers, and then didn't get another one for 180 kilometers. So for those next humdred miles or so you were never sure if you were heading in the right direction or not.

After what seemed to be several hours of driving in circles and asking directions I still could not find the highway I needed. I was so frustrated, like I just can't do this. Finally I looked at the sky to see where north was and noticed an incredibly steep and winding road heading up into the mountains. It was the only one heading in the direction I needed to go so that had to be it. I asked again at gas stations while I continued to narrow my selection down to streets that brought me towards those mountains. Finally as I climbed into the mountains I found a sign for Tampico letting me know I was finally on track again. Pachuca had turned out to be 10 times harder to get thru and find my road then Mexico City.

As it was getting dark I started my way into the Sierra Pachuca Mountains. Unfortunately I soon ran into the proverbial runners with torches celebrating the Mother of Guadeloupe Festival. On mountain roads with large busses and lines of well wishers following them at a crawl we all snaked our way along to the next shrine of the mother that is often placed on the mountain roads between villages. This was the weekend of celebration for her and every village seemed to have runners, firecrackers and these long lines of people and cars following them. It was one more thing to "deal with" as I tried to make some time crossing Mexico. It was also one more reminder that Mexico for the most part is not set up for any kind of speed. You simply, like in so many aspects of life here, take what she gives you. For someone trying to get back to the states after two months on the road, tired and with a bike not at 100%, their celebration was unfortunately turning into my obstacle.

After what seemed like it was going to be a decent day for travel, especially after getting thru Mexico City, now seemed to have turned into a typical hard day in Mexico. Having spent so much time lost in Pachuca, and now climbing into some serious mountain roads with ongoing lines of runners and busses from the festival having to be passed on very dangerous roads, not to mention a horrendous accident with backed up traffic for miles each way, things had taken a definite turn for the worst.

The accident looked like a truck had nearly completely gone over one of the sides of the road and guard rail and was dangling a thousand feet or so up from the bottom of the ravine. Another car had been demolished and was at its side. Police were directing traffic (for a change!) and they were alternating using the one lane that was open between traffic coming from each way. I could see the traffic backed up behind me twist all the way around the canyon and back up the winding road to my right. Another hour or so delay for most of us. For the people in the accident it looked to be quite a longer delay. I don't know if anyone was hurt.

I could not see over the side to see if there was a car at the end of that 1000 foot drop, and only hope there wasn't. It like so many accidents down here was at a curve and looked like maybe the truck had taken the turn too sharp and to avoid a head on collision veered off and to the right almost completely off the mountain. It was a sobering sight, but it was not too long before the traffic had seemed to forget about it and was off at a breakneck speed again!

It was not long before I ran into another line of runners and we all had to slow down. The thing is they always had police escorts with them and you didn't know if you should pass or not. Finally I just thought flashing lights or no flashing lights I'm passing. Curve or no curve, on coming traffic or no on coming traffic I was going to pass! My god I was turning into a Central American driver! What was next, maybe applying for a job as a Guatemalan Bus Driver! My life was changing before my eyes. Or maybe just passing before my eyes on these roads.

As the it became darker and darker, and colder as well (at this altitude it was probably in the 40's as it was getting dark), I had just passed another long line of runners and their entourage, I had had enough for the day. I would think about my radiator and getting more Pesos in the morning. I found a hotel for 240 Pesos, walked across the street where I got 4 tacos made to order, a Coke, and a donut for about $3. Went back to my room and on my t.v. which only had 5 channels watched a Sam Elliot movie. In the style of Rambo or Chuck Norris he was exacting vengeance in South Africa for a wrong done. I like Sam Elliot but his role as a vigilante in this didn't do him justice and it really was a pretty bad movie. It seemed to be just another pay check for the actors and that's about it. Still it was something to watch in the remote mountains of the Puchuca's before retiring.

As night settles in in the Sierra De Pachuca's, so does the cold.

It was very cold that night and of course none of these places have heat. I don't think anything does south of the border. I got my sleeping bag out as the temperature dropped and try' d to sleep as fireworks seemed to going off everywhere, in honor of the weekend festival no doubt. Boy did I choose the wrong weekend to cross Mexico on.

I had traveled about 270 miles that day and it seemed that I might only have one more day in Mexico, and that was kind of hard to believe. I had left El Salvador Monday morning, here it was Thursday night and I had put in one day of 400 miles, two of 300 miles, and one of 270 miles. About 1300 miles in four days and it was kicking my butt. Mexico again was proving that you have to adjust to it, or you just really make it hard on yourself. Because it certainly was not going to adjust to me.

Tomorrow I would be heading thru some of the prettiest and most challenging mountain roads I have ever been on.

Mexico and a couple of days of De javu

 

As I begin my trip back, the road signs become varied. This one is about 200 miles into Mexico from Guatemala.

Feeling I had kind of lucked out with the hotel I stay' d at the night before, I was reluctant to leave it. But as so often happened on this trip getting back on the road in the early morning before the heat of the day and having time to think were often the best times on the trip. This morning after getting lost almost immediately in the first town I came to and getting back on track I came to this crossroads with the sign above. I wish I had maybe taken more pictures of all the different signs on the trip to sort of give perspective to where I was at.

This home with a hammock on the front porch and wide open land and mountains around it with a horse nearby seemed to have everything a home needs.

There was a restaurant nearby where I had breakfast. A good breakfast with coffee for about 3 or 4 dollars. After words in the clear morning I got back on my bike in the Mexican desert and headed out feeling a little like Peter Fonda and Easy Rider again! And a sort of pride came in that here I was, alone in southern Mexico, kind of living a dream, riding my bike, making it. Within a short distance I came upon another rider heading south, here out in the solitude of southern Mexico it seemed almost mandatory to stop and say hi. I think we both kind of slowed down maybe thinking the same thing, but I didn't stop. It sort of seemed like what was the point, we both knew what we were doing down here. And while it would really have been nice to talk to another biker on the trip since I hadn't the whole way, I continued on my way, and he his. It looked like he had all the world traveler gear. Like a full Darien Suit, neoprene or gortex riding gloves, a dual sport bike with metal panniers, the whole outfit for the professional motorcycle traveler. I wondered if it was Greg Frazier the author of Riding South. I had spoke with him in Duluth at the "Very Boring Motorcycle Rally" in September I believe and he said he was planning on driving down to Costa Rica for Christmas. Well here it was December 8th and if it was him I passed I kind of wish I would have stopped.

This area of Mexico before Saline Cruz and the Pacific Coast seemed very arid and dry, though there were some rivers coming out of the mountains.

Its funny as big as the world is, travelers still tend to know each other, or know of each other. Like sailors who know who's in port and who's not. And thru word of mouth may find out so and so is in Lisbon, or Rio or the South Seas. The points of crossing paths are somewhat limited, even in world travel, so its not hard to keep track of the few people who actually make travel a good part of their lifestyle.

When I lived in Alaska it was  no different. As big as that state is, the roads only go a few places and so people tend to congregate, or travel to the same places. I remember when I lived in Seward Alaska for a time and one day I was looking out my window and my best friends old girl friend was walking down the street, I called to her and we ended up talking for awhile. We were all from Michigan, and here 4,5000 miles from home, we just happen to run into each other. Yes the world is not that big a place and is made that much smaller by the limited amount of roads and ports that are our crossing points.

Saline Cruz is a big port on the Pacific about 360 miles from Acapulco.

Later on this part of the trip I was to run into another Dual Sport bike with two riders on it, something I had not seen before. I saw at least one other dual sport rider and a Honda Goldwing along with a couple on bicycles heading south and a hitchhiker heading north, he looked like he was from the states as well. These two things, riding a bicycle or trying to hitchhike down here were things I had to have as much or more respect for then what I was doing. I could not imagine trying to ride a bike loaded with gear on these roads with the heat and heavy traffic. I also could not imagine hitchhiking because I would think you would often have to just sleep wherever you got left off. I would be curious to see how those things went. I should have stopped and talked to the hitcher. Another opportunity missed, probably because of trying to make time and get where I was going. Again the discipline of travel, to get good stories and good pictures, you often have to work for them. And realize you may never be back again so its worth the extra effort to take the time every day to get them.

Much like Acapulco, much of Saline Cruz is built on the surrounding mountain sides.

This was indeed a busy part route for travelers coming from the north heading south. Unlike my trip coming down the east side of Mexico, or my trip in Central Mexico, this stretch running along the Pacific Coast from Saline Cruz to Acapulco (about 360 miles) was obviously a well traveled route. It was also a heavily checked route by the military. There were about 6 military check points on the highway, half of which stopped me and ended up searching the exact same bags as the last check point. It was sort of annoying. At one point one of the soldiers got on my bike so his friend could take a picture of him with his cell phone. Meanwhile their CO looked totally annoyed. I thought it was pretty unprofessional to be taking up my time and sitting on my bike just so his buddy could take a picture of him, but then again what can you do. I thought I should have just had fun with it and taken their pictures  as well. I'm not sure how their CO would have taken that though.....perhaps another opportunity lost.

Saline Cruz from a distance, you can see its port and the Pacific Ocean.

Just deciding to take this highway and come back a different way then I had taken down was a big decision. I wasn't sure what I would find coming this way. My plan was to drive the Pacific Coast to Acapulco, maybe stay a day there, and then drive straight north, thru Mexico City and up to Texas. This looked to add about 300 miles to the trip, but I knew how bad the roads were coming down the way I had, and the traffic and maze of roads around Veracruz and Tampico were no fun. I thought whatever I run into going this way, it can't be worse then what I came down on. The only thing that really bothered me was having to go thru Mexico City. There was no way to go around a city of 20 million people and looking at the map it didn't look like there was freeway that went thru it either. The only way would be to just get in it, and keep driving north until I got out of it and hopefully recognize a highway that would keep taking me north.

The start of the highway from Saline Cruz to Acapulco. 360 miles of winding coastal road with not much in between.

I spent about two days on the highway between Saline Cruz and Acapulco. It is a beautiful highway that follows the coast, winds thru the mountains and gives beautiful views. It is also sparsely populated and there are few towns or hotels the first couple of hundred miles coming from Saline Cruz.  When I did finally find a hotel one night, over priced again at 300 Pesos and not nearly as nice as the one I staid at the previous night, I ended up getting some sort of skin rash from it. I generally just slept on top of beds of hotels I staid at and used my sleeping bag which worked out well. This was the first time I had contacted anything on the trip. The skin problem lasted for a week or so and I almost suspected I had lice or something, even maybe scabies. I was kind of bummed because it wasn't something I wanted to deal with, especially on the road. Usually you have to buy something like Quell, or whatever it is for your skin, and then you need to wash all your clothes etc. Being on the road in Mexico was not the place to do this, but I was also worried about infecting other places I went to. It did not seem to get worse though and eventually went away all together, knock on wood. Considering all the interesting places I had been and slept, it was amazing I had not gotten sick or gotten anything else on this trip.

Looking out over the coast and where the highway takes you on your way to Acapulco.

With all the winding roads coming out of Saline Cruz I was only to make about 300 miles my first day in Mexico, which was about the best I could hope for anyway. My second day I was able to get into Acapulco late in the afternoon. It was more then I expected. The traffic was terrible and it consisted of at least two very big cities right next to each other. Much of them built on very steep hills and mountains along the ocean. While my plan was to try to find that great Acapulco beach front and maybe stay for a day or two and do some Christmas shopping, the reality of the traffic or of even finding the beach front became apparent.

I was stuck in traffic for about two hours while heading for downtown Acapulco. I think the whole time I was there I was in a traffic jam. At one point one guy was yelling at me because I wouldn't let him in and I thought ok here I am going to get in a physical confrontation with a guy and his buddies in a traffic jam in Acapulco. I let them get way ahead of me and lost them in traffic. I missed my exit to the beach front while I got just a quick glimpse of some of the huge hotels there along the ocean. They probably would not have been cheap to stay at even if I had got there. Finally I was able to turn around and I decided to just get out of the cities and all the traffic. Its one thing about the cities, if your going to visit and stay in them, then you have to commit to being in them. You have to have the time, patience and make security a priority if your going to spend any amount of time in them. I was continually conflicted between simply wanting to get out of the country and back into the U.S. where things would be easier for me, and wanting to try to take as much time as possible since I didn't know if I would ever be back this way. Acapulco just turned out to be too much of a hassle though and finally like I said, I just started heading north out of the cities and towards the serenity of Mexico City of all places.

The service at this gas station between Saline Cruz and Acapulco was terrible. After waiting an hour for an attendant, I just left.

One town I thought would be nice to come back to and visit was San Marcos. It was maybe 100 miles farther down the coast from Acapulco. It is right on the ocean, looked to have good beaches and also lots of internet cafes as well being set up for some tourism. It also was not huge like Acapulco yet seemed to have everything Acapulco has, without all the traffic and maybe crime as well.

So as I made my escape from Acapulco following signs for Mexico, which meant Mexico City, I was so happy to get out and away from the city and find some good roads. There is a five mile tunnel that goes under the mountain and takes you out of town towards Mexico City. It is a toll road and costs about $6 to use. There was hardly anyone on it, due to the price no doubt. From this point to Mexico City, about 240 miles, it is all a toll road, and not cheap. While in some ways worth it considering the time you save and the fact that this is really a good road that rivals anything built in the U.S. as far as technology or ingenuity and its engineering marvels for some of the canyons and gorges it passes over, it none the less came to about $28 to drive the whole thing to Mexico City.

I ended up staying in a Hotel along the interstate (I'll call it) in a protected area. These areas can only be accessed by people driving and paying the tolls. They have gas stations, grocery stores, restaurants and hotels. They seem safe and the hotel was certainly cleaner then the one I had stay' d at the night before, and even had internet. I think it was also the same price at 300 Pesos and check out wasn't even until 1 p.m. the following day. I had some tacos before going to bed and a coke, all for probably two or three dollars. Again pretty inexpensive. In the morning I headed out for my dreaded crossing of Mexico City, I was not looking forward to it, but meanwhile the road going in and the scenery were some of the best of the trip.

The road goes on and on, and.....

Tomorrow I get into Mexico City and after that start to tackle some of biggest mountains and toughest roads of the trip.

 

Guatemala and back in Mexico

 

One of the many volcano's along the Pan American Highway in Guatemala

I left El Salvador yesterday and headed for my other "dreaded border crossing" with Guatemala. As it turned out it needed not be. Its hard to figure. Coming down it came out to be $310, mostly from a corrupt official and handlers it seems. This morning I arrived early and again there was hardly anyone in line, or much of anything happening.

A young kid offered to help me, and I told him $5 and he seemed fine with it all. For some reason the young kids don't seem to be out for everything they can get like the older one's do. Their just happy when you give them something. He was one of the nicest I've had with all the borders. I wonder where he'll be in 10 years if he's still doing it. The nice thing with him too is he did both sides, the border coming out of El Salvador, and the one going into Guatemala. It makes it so much easier if the borders are close enough together where if your going to hire a handler you negotiate one time for both borders migration and customs. Instead of having to do it with one leaving and then getting to the next one and having to do it all again. Usually you should only need one for both, but sometimes their not needed for the other one, or physically the customs of each country it too far away from each other.

At any rate he helped me do my paperwork with the El Salvador immigration and customs which of course is free, just like entering the country is. Went to the Guatemala immigration who stamped my passport, and then on to their customs which did the paper work for my bike and gave me my permit for $10. That was it, it all took about 45 minutes and I was done. Total cost $15. The kid was so nice, he saw me off, we shook hands and for $5 to do both borders it was well worth it. Too bad the big borders aren't like this. The big borders on the Pan American Hwy. is where the adult handlers hang out, and if the kids try to take any of their work away from them they just won't allow it. Its too bad. If you can, hire a kid, and when the older guys come to shoo them off, tell them you hired them first. The problem is they'll probably make the kids pay them for taking you away from them in the first place, or who knows, maybe even get physical with them, their such crooks. But like my Honduras border this time thru, this was not the Pan American Highway crossing.  it was the La Hatchadura one. So it was less busy and easier to deal with. I got there early and things did seem to go better. I took the southern route because it was more convenient any way for the route I was coming and going on.

Guatemala was fairly uneventful crossing, unlike the last time where the road was closed for five hours and it took me all day to drive 150 miles. Since I changed maybe $10 at the border, (I changed $20 but 10 went to my vehicle permit), I wanted to get across and do my last border crossing into Mexico the same day. No stops in Guatemala.

My main memories of the crossing are of the impressive rows of volcano's that line the front range of mountains bordering the highway. One after another, some of them still smoking, all presenting a background to daily life here. One wonders wether it's tomorrow, or a thousand years from now, when the next time one will go off.

Also the heavy smell of molasses as you drive by big the sugar cane plants all in full production. Apparently December is harvest month for most fields, and they are already bare and harvested, or their stalks have flowers and look to be ready to harvest. The trucks heavily laden with cane creep down the highway towards the plants and must be negotiated with as your driving, their moving so slow. But their usually helpful and signal you when its clear to pass.

I remember briefly getting lost here or there and having to ask directions and thru arm gestures get the idea of which way to go. Anytime the highway goes thru a city of any size the odds of getting turned around or lost are good. After one such time I finally found my highway and I run into a race their having. This on the main road thru town, actually a freeway of sorts. There are runners and the police are following them holding up traffic as we're all following at a snails pace. I'm wondering why you would have a foot race right on your main freeway crossing your country during the day. But again like so often the answer down here seems to be, why ask why? Talk about pressure on the last runner, here there's a mile of backed up traffic right behind you. If you poop out, we all poop out! At this point we're all rooting for the last runner. The faster she can finish, the faster we can all get going again!

While most of the roads in eastern Guatemala are fairly good, the ones in the middle and western part are terrible. At one point I got behind 3 other bikers apparently from the states heading north it looked like, and watched them push their bikes and themselves on these roads to make time. Trying to pass on the right and on hills, I couldn't keep up with them. Which was fine, while I do want to make some time to get back before Christmas I don't need to push to do so. If anything these roads and the traffic down here will beat you up enough without trying to make time as well. That is a big adjustment to make down here. If you want to not just be driving all day, and you want to stop for some meals, and not drive after dark then 200 to 300 miles a day is about the best you can hope for. In fact if I come back and plan another trip that's about what I will plan on time wise. And if your going to stop and say see the pyramids then you need to plan your days off as well. To simply jump on your bike and go and figure things out as you go is fine, but one needs to a lot time for how far one can realistically travel in a day down here as opposed to other places.

Anyway my over all approach to travel, the planning, the places to stay, sites to be seen and coordinating it all with time and money are all part of the challenge of putting together a good trip. And as I'm understanding these things that I've never been necessarily good at (like organization and sticking to a schedule!), are essential factors in having a successful trip. All these things also become more difficult or at least put in a different context when one is engaged in long trips such as this, or crossing South America, or even going around the world. Which are other trips I weigh against this one and think about wether I would want to do them or not. The sights to be seen and what one really has time for actually takes a back seat to finishing the trip itself and having the time and money to do so when on a longer trip. So comparing distance traveling, to just touring in general one realizes the different goals involved and thus the different approaches. Both have their advantages and disadvantages. While I like the idea of covering great distances and getting a "feel" for the bigger lay of the land, in the end I think taking shorter trips that get more out of a certain area, its history and scenic spots etc. are in a way more appealing. But again, both have their advantages.

Before I approached the Guatemala Mexican border I stopped at the family diner I had stopped at before. The diner consisting of a tent, two picnic tables, and a fire pit for grilling with the whole family working the various talks. The father wasn't there and I ended up having a bowl of chicken soup and tortilla's. What should have been 2 or 3 dollars before, now was $5 with the mother charging me. I only had dollars on me, and felt again I had paid too much. But that's what she asked for, I should have bartered, just one more aspect of life down here to get good at. To know when and how much to barter for is the key. For her doing it before the meal would have been the time. But I thought I had already eaten there before, surely they would remember me and give me a good price wouldn't they? No, trust no one, barter for everything, and ask for everything you want, rules to live by......

So as I approached my last difficult border crossing, getting out of Guatemala and into Mexico I was hoping for an easy crossing. This whole area, from Guatemala into Mexico and vice versa is very confusing. This crossing which is by Mexico's town of Tapachula is so confusing. I knew I went thru Tapachula on my way into Guatemala, but I had no idea where that border was that I went thru. I assumed I would be going thru the same border crossing, only in reverse, I wasn't. As I approached from the opposite direction I came to a crossing guard that seemed to telling me I had to be going a different way. Its like I was coming in the reverse side, like the side that people coming out of Mexico and into Guatemala use. I needed to have my passport stamped out of Guatemala and my vehicle permit nullified. Instead I seemed to be in a place where they wanted to stamp me in, and give me a vehicle permit to enter, not leave. I thought I should have been at the place I should have been at when I came into the country 5 weeks ago, but wasn't, it was very confusingI if I was in the same place I was at when I entered Guatemala the first time I would have known where I was, but even though I was using the same highway going out as I had coming in, the customs buildings and immigration were totally different. Like the same highway had two sets of customs and migrations for both countries. If your confused now, you can imagine how I was. I just kind of knew I was in the wrong place to exit Guatemala, and no one spoke English.

Finally one guy offered to help, somewhat reluctantly I accepted, it was like here we go again. Another handler finds his way in. He walked me over to another building and they told him something that confirmed that I was at the wrong border. We walked back to the building we were just at and a friend of his told him we needed to be at another border crossing as well, and apparently offered his motorcycle to him so he could  lead me over to it on his bike. He asked me how much I paid to get in the first time. I told him over $300. He said this would cost me about $50. I told him I only paid $10 to get into the country this time. He said it was going to cost $50 to leave, and I suspected he was talking about handlers fees for the other guy helping me and him letting him use his bike. But for now we'd just have to wait and see.

Guatemalan countryside

The guy got on an incredibly slow moving bike and I followed him about five miles to a totally different customs and migration building. This was the one for people leaving Guatemala. And again it was totally different then the one I used when I entered the country the first time. Why the same entrance point should have two separate buildings and roads to them that do the same thing is beyond me. I didn't recognize any of it and I'm not sure I could have without help.

So after winding thru crowded streets we finally come to the immigration and customs building. His bike was so slow if I had known where I was going I would have left him a long time I go, but I didn't know where I was going and we finally get there. Immediately two other handlers join us to take me to the window to get my passport stamped out, and then we go to another window I think to get my vehicle paperwork stamped out and we're done. I tell the handlers I'm not paying anyone else any money and they get the idea and split. I also find a money exchanger at this point and change over $300 to Pesos at 12 Pesos per dollar. I was thinking I would have a hard time finding a bank in Mexico to do this so I would do it here. The exchange rate at banks is about 13.7 Pesos to the dollar. So on $300 I was taking a big hit. Like 30 to 40 dollars worth.  That's where the money exchangers make their money, and we lose ours. Its that one or two percentage points on the exchange rate. As it was there were a lot of banks open in the border town Tapachula and I could have done it there where they were relatively easy to find. Unlike interior towns where you often had to get off the highway and go looking for them. But of course I didn't know this at the time, and by me not wanting to do any more work in Mexico then I had to it would cost me some money. The thing is on the reverse side, in Texas the banks told me to go to the border exchange places since they offered a better rate of exchange then the banks. So go figure, its hard to know what to do half the time.

Of course the guy who brought me over, my new found handler who never even discussed a fee with me sees all this money get exchanged, so now he knows that I can afford to pay him some money as well. After we're done getting my vehicle permit canceled and he points me onto the Mexican side of the border crossing he wants to get paid. $50 is what he asks for, surprisingly enough. I tell him we never talked about any fee at all. I start out at $10 or $5 or something. Again I'm too soft. I know he borrowed a bike to drive this whole way hoping to get some money, and I'm trying to justify giving him more and avoiding conflict. We're sort of at a stand off now while some lady sitting on a bench is following this whole conversation, I don't know if she could understood English or not, but I'm sure she got the gist of our conversation. At any rate I finally tell him $20 and that's it. He seems to agree, I mean in the end what are they going to do? He's lucky to get anything really considering how they go about their business, hoping they get what they ask for. We shake hands and are done. Like all deals they do tend to end in handshakes. So if you want your handshake to mean something, make sure you feel like you got the bargain!

The other thing that really bothered me and I saw many times in Central America were homeless starving dogs. Many of them with broken legs and were just skin and bones. They have no animal shelters or humane society's down here. Though I did see a statue later in Mexico City of a dog with a broken leg. I wanted to take a picture but I was in heavy traffic. But I thought what a humane statue to have to remind people the plight of these animals, it really is horrible.

As I was leaving Guatemala and was between handlers, the money exchangers and the high heat, I saw a puppy come walking up, probably no more then 3 months old. It had a broken leg and was all skin and bones, it could hardly walk. I wish I had offered it water at the time or something, but like everyone else there I was under as much stress in ways. To think this dog will probably just starve to death on the side of the road is sort of hard to think of. Like how many children will die of the same thing today on this planet. And how separated are we from all this suffering that occurs all around us and remain oblivious to it. Its kind of hard to imagine. Later after I got back to Texas and I saw people hanging out in McDonalds, it was hard to relate in ways. The United States is so different in so many ways. For good and bad I guess, but the differences for anyone having spent time away from this country are striking. That dog and the total lack of help of any kind was just one example.

These two borders were the most confusing of the whole trip for some reason. Nothing was set up as the other ones were, and no one spoke English. The Mexican side was almost as confusing. The lady did stamp my passport out, but wanted to know how long I would be in the country, how long it would take to drive thru, and also couldn't take any money for anything. If there wasn't another lady from the states in line there that spoke Spanish I would not have known that I needed to find a bank to pay for my permit before I left the country  and also stop at immigration in Tapachula to get my vehicle permit. This is not what I wanted at all. To miss the immigration station somehow would mean I could lose my bike. And to find it meant driving around an unfamiliar town until I did find it. Just one more to me unnecessary hassle, everything could have been take care of at the border itself, instead giving me two more things to have to do after entering the country. I really just wanted to get thru and then drive into the night, as far away from the border as possible.

The good and bad news were both ahead of me, the good news was I had only one more border to cross and that would not be for 4 or 5 days. The bad news is I had a long ways to go to get to that border. Driving across Mexico is some of the most challenging driving I've done anywhere, and I know it was not going to be any easier going back then it was coming across the first time.

After I left the border still frustrated that I had to go find the immigration place somewhere in a strange town and if I missed it perhaps lose my bike, I made my way to Tapuchula. It like most of the towns I entered was easy to get lost in and it didn't take long to do it. I kept asking for directions and assumed by heading out of town, I would eventually come to customs before I could head out into Mexico. Then I could get my vehicle permit. Fortunately I was right. I soon came upon a traffic jam that was indeed immigration checking traffic. After gently being pushed in line by a car changing lanes I decide to just go to the side of the road and head to the front of the line. When I got there I discovered the immigration office where I got my paperwork done for the bike, I was also able to pay for my permit for me so I didn't have to look for a bank later. This time they charged my credit card $26 for my vehicle permit (coming in they charged me $30) and for me it was $20 (again coming in the first time it was $23). So who knows why it would be different each time but it was. But all in all Mexico did seem a lot more organized in ways and professional then almost any other Central American country I had  been in. Somewhat of a contrast to many of our perceptions of Mexico to begin with. And they certainly didn't tolerate handlers either and this was refreshing.

So I had finally taken care of everything to get back into Mexico and this seemed like such a big step in my return home. Now all I had to do was drive for 4 or 5 days, no more borders! I ended up driving 400 miles total that day all the way from where I started in El Salvador that morning, well into the Mexican night. The last  200 miles of Mexican Highway going towards Tapachula are some of the best in Mexico. I had no fear of driving late into the night. I wanted to get well within the border my first night.

Eventually I found a hotel, one  of the nicest on my whole trip, and it was only 1800 Pesos, or about $15. It was very clean and also inspired me to start my practice of Tai Chi again. Gentle stretching exercises  that are actually a Chinese martial art that I have practiced on an off since I lived in Alaska. Done twice a day they are a great benefit both physically and mentally. In this atmosphere and being on the road alone and in a routine it seemed and easy time to start my practice again. It also made me think of living in New Mexico or the southwest for awhile and knowing the change could be quite good for me, physically and mentally. Plus being able to drive my bike year round another plus. Anyway all these thoughts came to me as I was starting my way back across Mexico, The feeling of making it on a very difficult trip came to me again, I appreciated a again just how difficult this trip has been in ways, and also sort of like easy rider and Peter Fonda, it felt kind of neat to be living a dream in a way. While I have a lot to learn to be able to travel comfortably south of the border, or at least get a lot more out of it, I still was doing it, and it was still sort of hard to imagine what I had done and was doing. By the grace of god and a lot of help in different ways, I was like an old cowboy making his way thru the wild west, or just a modern day traveler on a motorcycle who not at all unlike any other traveler thru out history or time,  just wanted to push and challenge himself, and see what was on the other side of that ridge, mountain or ocean.

As I contemplated navigating Mexico I realized too some of the personal changes in my life I needed to navigate as well after returning from this trip. None of them being easy, but all of them necessary to some degree for personal growth. I realized again how getting so far away from what most of us look at as normal on a daily basis gives us a different view of ourselves and our country and also helps us keep track of what is important to us all, which usually starts with our faith itself and our family. To find one's self thru the maize of relationships and distractions with work and life itself, to try to become whole and hopefully arrive at some sort of balanced perspective with life itself is no small task. To some degree that is one of the goals of this site, and in trying to do so hopefully will help enable myself and maybe you reading this to achieve some of that as well. For are we all not all on a constant journey, even when we think we're not?

So the name freedomthrumovement describes to some degree what physical movement can do for our mental and spiritual movement as well. And hopefully by changing our perspective thru movement we find some freedom from our believes and ways of seeing and relating to the world which hold many of us hostage on a daily basis. Thru diet, excercise, travel, or maybe a good roll in the hay! Anything that gets us outside of ourselves can be a positive thing......

Where the body goes, the mind follows, where the mind goes, the spirit follows..... old spiritual teaching

Life within the shadows of the volcano's

In my next log my return across Mexico begins.....

 

The Biker meets the Surfer Bum (and I think the surfer wins)

View from the beach near the Surfers Hotel

What happens when two distinctly different cultures collide? Its always interesting to see how they adjust to each other and end up co-existing. While I'm obviously no Hell's Angel, I'm still on quite a different trip down here then surfers who seem to have come to this part of El Salvador from all over the world to just surf, surf and surf some more, hanging out for the "perfect wave".

Surfers at Sunset, many would surf until it was completely dark out there.

So as I pull my bike into the "Surfers Hotel" the sign that says "rooms for rent", all written in English, I know in a way I'm looking for my own perfect wave. Or at least a cool place to hang out for a couple of days, speak English and meet people from all over the world while getting into the surfer scene. Having been a ski bum myself for a couple years after high school, I figure we probably have a lot of common ground.

My bike and room at the Surfers Hotel

I talk to the owner and though he doesn't speak English, I get that its $8 a night. At that price I pay for two nights. He shows me my room in a shaded back yard with assorted rooms in different buildings all around the property. There's hammocks everywhere, and no one around, it seems almost too quiet like, maybe I'm going to be alone here as well. I look at one of the picnic tables between the rooms and it looks like it has left over party things from the night before. A couple of almost empty whiskey bottles and some empty plates. It was close to my room and I didn't like the idea that there may be partying all night right outside my room. Well no one was here now, it seemed peaceful and the ocean was a short walk away. I had to stay someplace and hopefully this would be my "beach time".

The path to the beach, the side streets and alleys were often just two tracks that served as main roads

Having only slept really one good night of the last 3 I took a nap. When I awoke the surfers had returned. It looked like 3 or 4 guys from Germany and one lady were in their group. They were all in there 20's and seemed to speak Spanish well as well as English and German. I had to initiate any kind of conversation though, they didn't seem to notice me or care about me one way or the other. So my first hope of having some good conversations and learning something about surfing was not going to happen with them. Either I was too old, not part of their group, or maybe more likely they were just on their own trip, though somewhat stoic like some Germans can be, and it was all about business, or surfing. In fact I don't think I heard any of them laugh the whole time they were around. They would get their boards and head for the beach about 3 times a day, hardly say anything on departing or returning. While the guys would acknowledge me and say hi if I said hi, the one lady wouldn't even make eye contact or even say hi. It was like I was invading her or their space or something. It was sort of odd being in a country where you don't speak the language, have a group right next to you who do, but they never say a word to you. Oh well, another part of travel....

Here I am catching my first big wave.

Well Ok, so if I wasn't gonna be with the in crowd here I'd have to strike out on my own. The beach was a short walk away and I went down to explore it. It was really hot and the Pacific Ocean while somewhat cooler then the air, was not refreshing by any means. There seemed to be 30 to 40 surfers at any given time out "working the waves" a few hundred yards off shore. I could see why this was such a good spot. The waves were all about 10 to 12 feet high, and perfect for novices as well as more experienced surfers. I don't think you could get hurt trying to learn here, and the waves were big enough to have fun. Plus they seemed constantly the same size all day long.

Sunset along the Pacific

A fisherman watches the sunset and prepares to cast his hand fishing line out into the surf.

There was maybe 5 or 6 Hostels or Hotels along the beach, and while not crowded, there seemed a fair number of people from different parts of the world there. A surf shop, a few restaurants and of course a security guard with a gun were all present. I thought seriously about renting a board and giving it all a shot, but at the moment the heat was too much and I retreated back to my room. Later I walked back down for the sunset and watched a couple of locals casting nets into the rising surf as it got dark though I wasn't sure what they were trying to catch.

Last light in the tropics

After getting back to my room I thought about asking the surfers where the local scene was at night, but there wasn't anyone anywhere on the whole place. Here it was 6 o'clock and it was already dark. I decided to write up some posts so the next time I got to an internet service I could use it. There was a internet place across the street but the lady didn't speak English at all, and we got no where with it. If I had just wanted to use a computer we could have figured it out, but asking about wi-fi and being able to use my laptop seemed more of a hassle then it was worth. I was a little frustrated too that here again, what should have been the simplest of things, like using a computer in a internet cafe was made overly complicated by the language barrier.

A Nearby River draining into the Pacific

The river canyon coming down from the mountains.

So I used the time to really do some writing, I hadn't planned on doing a lot of long posts on the way back, but here I was again with a lot of experiences I wanted to record and a lot of time do to it because of it getting dark so early down here. And doing a lot of the writing now will save me from having to do it later when I get back. Then most of the work will be just organizing my writings.

The road heading away from the coast and towards Guatemala

One of the many tunnels along the coastal highway.

So I was deep into writing when people started coming back and I could hear them outside my room. There seemed to be a lot of the family from the owners there as well. Loud music, firecrackers and lots of yelling pretty much told me it was going to be a party night. To make a long story and night short, the partying mostly done by locals lasted till 4 or 5 in the morning. I wrote till after midnight knowing I wasn't going to get any sleep anyway. After that I try' d to sleep but  between the fireworks (much louder and powerful then in the U.S.), the blaring music, the kids running all over the yard screaming till 1 am and the adults laughing and shouting all several feet from my room I ended up with no sleep at all. My neighbors the Germans seemed to have retired about the time I did, I had no idea how they could have slept either.

In the morning I asked my neighbor if this was a normal night here, and he kind of said, no, then yes and then well no. I knew with the long drive coming up thru Guatemala and Mexico I needed some rest, and I couldn't take a chance on another night of no sleep, plus I needed to get closer to the border anyway for the morning. So it was settled, I would leave, the surfers could have their hotel back.

I went to the owner to get some water and tell him I was leaving. Between my broken Spanish he understood I got no sleep the previous night, was heading to Guatemala today, and that I wanted a refund for one night. He tried to tell me something but I couldn't understand him. I think he was saying it was a one night celebration. As I looked around at his assembled family ( probably 15 kids and 12 adults) I thought even if they don't decide to party again, it was probably not going to be too peaceful of an evening. The music was already starting to play again. I felt bad in a way and tried to not be angry or rude. The surfers were in their own world, the family and owner in there's. I was the guest coming thru, and I'm not in my 20's anymore wanting to hang out and party. Next time I'll know.

Another set of brilliant flowers along the road to Guatemala.

I know not drinking or partying gives me a little different experience with traveling. Sharing drink is a universal way of relating to each other. Even if you don't speak the language you can share a drink and come to some sort of understanding or feeling of mutual ground. I know Carlos the owner of my home stay house offered to have a drink with me, and I know we would have bonded on some level more quickly if I was a drinker. This sort of social interaction centered around drinking I do miss in ways. I did it for years with my parents and with friends and in my travels. Not the drinking itself as much as the bonds of friendship that often formed thru a shared activity. Drugs for awhile especially back in the seventies were a way to bond thru a shared experience as well. One problem is why it does allow one to have a good time, and make it easier to get know one another and form a bond which on some level as humans we all need anyway, it also for some of us becomes the only way that we end up doing this. It means to express our feelings, and "feel" we begin to ritualize drinking, and partying to a point for some of us it becomes a lifestyle. Also the feeling itself becomes the addiction, and there is only one way to feel that way, and that is to party. There is a certain dependence on the drink or drug itself which is used to let people know who we are, or what we feel. Its very seductive and for many of us can lead to much more serious problems. For some turning into a form of isolation which is not why we started drinking or using drugs to begin with.

That all being said, I do miss it some times, again mainly for the social interaction it often incurs.  But the partying and hanging out lifestyle is not really where I want to be at anymore. I'm not in my twenties and being in a dormitory type situation like the Surfers Hotel reminded me that if I had spoke Spanish and was ready to cut loose for a night I could have had a great time. I guess wanting this is what I miss sometimes. But its also a temporary state that usually comes with a hangover and a not so great feeling about what I may have done or said, and that I don't miss. Again wether in traveling or at work and the business world there is still that part that uses partying or sharing a drink as part of the whole process of living. Some seem to handle it better then others and it does seem to have its place.

I was trying not to judge the situation and not think in terms that it is incredibly rude to rent out a hotel room and have a full blown party going the whole night. But again this is part of life and you run into it everywhere, I left and got a refund, and I don't think was rude. Now I am staying at a hotel close to the Guatemala border where I stay' d the first time thru. Kind of like the night before the Honduras border, I know this one might be the hardest one, and Guatemala itself was a tough country to drive thru the first time. Still even with Mexico being a long tough drive, if I'm in Mexico tomorrow night, I will only have only one last border to cross, and then I'll be back in the states.

While the weather is not an issue here, it is as hot as ever, the forecast for Dallas tomorrow is in the 70's which is good news because I need decent enough weather in Texas to get some things done before I figure out how I'm going to head farther north. After Mexico everything will depend on the weather.

I also need to remember that as difficult as parts of the next part of the trip maybe, I still need to have fun and enjoy this experience as much as I can. Take my time and remember I'm doing something I've always wanted to do. I'm in pretty good shape time wise, the bike has done well and its up to me to enjoy the ride.

The time is now, and now is the time.....Yogi Bajhan