Louisiana, Mississippi and Tennessee in the fog.

Its dinner time in Henderson Louisiana and Landry's Restaurant and Art Gallery.

After getting up and getting back on the road I was soon thru Beaumont Texas and into Louisiana. While the rain had stopped it was still cold and damp, and the day was turning into one big fog bank. After a couple of hours I stopped at a Welcome to Louisiana Rest Stop and warmed up and had some coffee. I wasn't drinking much coffee of late, but with this weather and riding in it I was quickly picking up the habit again. The good thing about these state rest stops is they always have free state highway maps, usually as good or better then the ones you get at a gas station for $5. So on the way back I try' d to stop at each welcome center and get one for the state I was entering.

The trip thru Louisiana and Mississippi was all spent basically in a cold fog bank, traveling east on Interstates 10 and 12. I stopped in Henderson, LA at a place called Landry's Restaurant (a famous chain I'm told) for some seafood (my favorite food by this time) and treated myself. It was scallops and shrimp again with some really good chowder.

The place had an art gallery  called The Cajun Palette owned by a local artist named Anne S. Logan right inside of the restaurant. I went in the gallery and toured around while talking with Anne the owner. She was so easy to talk to, she said owning a gallery had always been a dream of hers and it had finally happened. She was an artist herself and afterwards, with some regret, I thought I hadn't really had a chance to check out her work. I did buy some prints from her by another local artist and she said she would mail them home for me for no charge while also giving me some greeting cards to go along with them. She even called a week or so later to make sure I had received everything by Christmas.

Before leaving I asked her about hurricane Katrina and if they had gotten hit hard by it. She said while they had some heavy winds, not much else happened that far inland. So after some good food and some more Christmas shopping done, I got back out and headed east.

As I crossed the Mississippi River on just a mammoth bridge and headed into Baton Rouge, the weather had turned noticeably warmer, like I had finally gotten ahead of that Texan front I had been in for almost two days. I headed into rush hour in Baton Rouge and a traffic jam, where we all snaked along in five lanes of traffic. It was warm and raining a little, but as I have said before, I don't think any traffic jam in the U.S. will ever be quite the same after facing them in Central America. I was warm for the first time in a day or two and the traffic jam was actually a nice break. Showing again that the way we perceive our situation is often what makes it bad, not necessarily the situation itself.

As you change the way you look at things, the things you look at will change..... Dr. Wayne Dyer in one of his seminars....

The bike gets to rest, after 9000 miles, the last 1000 are a piece of cake.

As I got on the other side of Baton Rouge and found Interstate 12 heading east, it started to rain heavier and also get cold again. It was almost like the warm front was just hanging around the Mississippi River and Baton Rouge. So I headed out into the night and the fog and rain looking for Interstate 55 heading north into Mississippi. At one point I made a stop for gas and a couple of guys with heavy southern accents (of all things) came up to me and talked about their own bikes and also asked where I was heading. When I told one guy Michigan, he asked "well then where 'd you come from?" I said Michigan. And then he said, "well what was in between?" And when I said Central America and 9000 miles he just sort of looked at me like Uncle Jed might  and said "whoo doggy now!" Well ok after 9000 miles I'm entitled to a little writers embellishment. He really didn't say whoo doggy now, but he was amazed none the less, that kind of made two of us.... One guy also told me they had just had snow there the previous week which almost never happens. Both guys were really friendly and I enjoyed talking to them.

We're ready.

Pretty soon I hit Interstate 55 and headed north towards Mississippi and Memphis. I was probably 300 miles from Memphis, and Memphis is about 500 miles from Chicago, and Chicago is about 300 miles from my home in Michigan. I was getting close, if I had any kind of decent weather at all I knew I could get home in two days if I had to, if I could stay warm enough.

That night as the fog got thicker and thicker, and the air got colder I just kept heading north in what had become very light traffic. Finally it started raining pretty hard and I was getting cold, even with my Frog rainsuit on, so I started looking for a place to spend the night. A Super 8, my other budget hotel of choice came up and I pulled under their overhang for the lobby, got my room and then left my bike under their awning for the night. I was very cold, not shaking which would have concerned me and I wouldn't have gone any further if I had been, but cold enough to know I couldn't handle much more of this, and it was only going to get colder. I was 150 miles south of Memphis and had thought originally if I could get that far, that would be half of the journey back in the U.S., and then that would cut down what I would have to pay to get my bike back in a U-haul. Memphis seems to the line that runs between extreme north southern weather, and extreme south northern weather (if that makes sense). In winter this can mean freezing rain, of course, something I hadn't run into yet.

Interstate 55 thru Southern Illinois.

After sleeping in a little and having a very annoying house maid come by my room every five minutes to see if I had checked out of my room right at 11:00 or not, I called U-haul in Memphis to see about renting a truck or trailer for the rest of the ride home. It had not warmed up at all, but at least it wasn't raining either. When I finally got to Memphis a few hours later and found the U-haul place I was once again very cold. It felt like it was going to snow and it confirmed the fact that my trip on my bike was almost over.

This was another part of my trip I should have planned out better. It turned out that U-haul wouldn't rent a motorcycle trailer to go just one way, or a pickup truck to pull it either for that matter. They had enclosed trailers available, but nothing to pull it with. I called Enterprise and they said they wouldn't rent anything less then a commercial vehicle for towing. So I would have to end up renting two things, quite possibly from different companies. U-haul had a smaller truck I could use but no ramp to get the bike onto it with. And it was only $20 cheaper anyway. I should have priced all this and made arrangements before I left, but of course I didn't know if I would need it or not, or even how far north I was going to get. Still it is one more thing I could have priced before I left so I knew what I could expect to pay. As it was, with tax, a 1000 mile limit and without gas, it was almost $600 for a 14 foot truck which was way more room then I needed. And when I asked for cargo straps they said they would have to charge me extra! Oh and if you don't pay $70 for insurance your liable for any and all damage to the truck. I said fine, I'm not paying another $70, I'll get it there in one piece.

Winter in the upper midwest

A guy helped me put it on, we put it on its center stand, checked the gas gauge of the truck and I was on my way. I had asked where a good place to eat ribs was and now headed for that place. You hear so much about ribs down here, and while I've never been a big rib fan, like Cajun food, I had to try some. Unfortunately on the way over to the rib house the bike rolled off of its center stand and crashed in the back of the truck with a loud thud. I had to strap it up to the sides with what straps I had, keep it off its center stand and just on its kick stand and this seemed to work fine the whole way home.  Unfortunately the bikes windshield had broken in places from the fall and will have to be replaced. This was only the second time on the whole trip it had been down, and maybe the 4th time total in its life.

I stopped in Mike's Rib House or something like that and had some dry baby back ribs. Which amounted to just heavily seasoned ribs with no sauce. They were good but I think I would have preferred a sauce. After that I got in my truck and got on the road again.

After all that it was getting late so I only drove another 100 miles and then got a room for the night, and then what turned out to be two. Here north of Memphis there was some snow on the ground, the first I had seen in probably 10 months or so. It was cold and it reaffirmed I had made the right decision to give up the bike. I stay'd and rested one more day, knowing now I was not much more then a day away from home, and it was a week before Christmas.

This is a typical midwest winter scene I have grown up with.

Another annoying maid, this one came by and pounded on your door at 9:20 every morning to ask if you were going to be leaving that day. Check out wasn't till 11 anyway and most hotels don't check with you until just before check out. I almost complained about it, but its like what's the point, you would think they would know, if I had wanted a wake up call I would have asked for one. Yup, I think I was getting ready for home!

The next day I drove about 500 miles to Holland Michigan and my last hotel of the trip. Chicago looked like it had been hit by an ice storm as I drove thru it. I stopped at a Red Lobster for dinner, and guess what, I had shrimp and scallops. The waiter charged me for a lemonade even though I just had lemon water. I brought this to his attention, he went away and came back with my change, not having changed the bill at all. I just sort of sat there and was going to say something again, but he wouldn't come back so I just left without giving him a tip. It was so strange, I could just imagine him thinking I had stiffed him, but I wanted to say your tip is in the overcharge, but I just left. Having worked in the food industry myself for so long and knowing what its like to live on tips I guess I think about it a lot as well. But to have someone tell you you made a mistake, and then do nothing about it.....maybe I could do a post just on the service I received on the trip!

As I got to Holland Michigan and looked for a hotel, the town had just been hit by a storm. I almost got stuck in the hotel parking lot there was so much snow. As I stomped my feet off and entered the cold hotel room, for the first time in my life I wondered why I should put up with snow if I didn't have to. Having experienced riding my bike in December in 90 degrees, I just could not rationalize putting up with it. And that had been the first time I had ever been away from snow in the winter, the very first time. I think as long as I continue to own a bike, my future maybe already set! I'm going to end up somewhere warm year round!

The next morning feeling chilled to the bone I headed toward the last stretch before home. I stopped by my sisters house to pick up my package I had sent her from Costa Rica, my Christmas presents. They had so much snow on her street I got the U-haul stuck and once again contemplated turning around and driving south, never again to approach Michigan in the winter. I managed to rock it out, park on a main street and walk down to her house and get my package. Next stop was stopping by to see dad at the AFC home. I spent a couple of hours with him watching television, him not really even having an idea of where I had been, but he did kind of cause he did ask me if I had taken pictures. Its hard to know with him these days.

No the bike was done for the year.

So then leaving him I again headed north. I saw a sign for Traverse City 70 miles, and it seemed like such a short distance from the many other times I had seen that sign before. I contrasted it to signs I had seen like Acapulco 360 miles, or a sign just out of Chicago saying Memphis 495 miles. Or how just a couple of weeks ago  I had been 4500 miles from home. Yes I was almost there, but with all the stuff to do, unpack, get ready for Christmas, catch up on two months worth of bills, get ready for school and finish my blog contacting the many who have helped on the journey, it was going to be awhile before I would be able to rest.

It has been almost 3 weeks now since I've returned, and while most of the preliminary work of getting settled back in and organized has occurred I still have a lot to do. This is the last blog of the trip itself, but as promised I still want to organize the whole site better, do a post just on border crossings, planning, lessons learned and highlights with my favorite pictures. Also as I said I would like to dedicate the trip to some special ladies and get more information for the orphanage in San Jose , hopefully setting up an account and raising money for them as well.

So as I pulled the U-haul into the snowy drive that I had left just two months ago, it seemed like it had been longer. I knew I was home now and everything for awhile at least would look and feel just a little different. As the trip itself seems to gradually wear off, part of me knows it will never totally wear off. I feel a little like the hobbit Bilbo Baggins thinking about writing a book about my "great adventure". All the brave deeds, the dragons slay' d   and the beautiful damsels rescued. And then I think what will I name that book, and how long before I set my feet on that path that leads away from my hut and down the road to go adventuring again.....perhaps a question for the soul......

Leaving Texas for Michigan

 

I run into an old friend again, this time he wasn't wearing shorts like he was in this picture, nor was I!

As I got ready to leave Brownsville I had one last stop to make at a sporting good store. Since my gortex hiking boots had been stolen in Costa Rica I wanted to price some kind of insulated boots. I also wanted to get some better rain gear. The rain gear I had was either too tight to go over my other clothes or just a hassle to put on quickly in a storm. I had sent my insulated clothes back to Michigan before I came south of the border so outside of my Carhart winter jacket and a couple of pairs of wool socks I didn't have much cold weather gear either.

Getting the right mix of riding gear like everything is a matter of experience and finding what works well for you. I could not afford a full Gortex riding suit nor was I into buying boots just for riding that are both protective and waterproof. Both of these things are significant investments and while certainly worth it for serious travel, are not worth it if your not going to use them enough for that. For me at my level and commitment a combination of backpacking, kayaking and general cold and wet weather living clothes (don't forget I lived in Alaska for 10 years where wet and cold is everyday weather along the coast!) have to be made to work for riding as well. While maybe not ideal, one can get by with a lot of "dual purpose gear" as to not have to invest in things you are only going to wear for one activity. This being said, there is no substitute for having great gear designed for exactly what you need it for.  You just have to be willing to pay for it and use it.

So since for this part of my journey at most I only had 3 or 4 days of travel left, and while riding in the 30's was probable, I was hoping for relatively dry weather in the 40's. And with this short window of time in mind I  wasn't going to buy any gear I felt I couldn't use beyond my trip. Plus its hard to find arctic gear in Southern Texas! I ended up buying some gloves and a set of Frog rain gear which I had heard good things about. They seem to work well for keeping you dry, though I have yet to use them in a total downpour. They are lightweight and pack up into a small carry bag, and they are very easy to put on. For now without getting into more expensive gear like gortex and protective suits, a suit of this seems ideal, and can also be used for other activities as well, like fishing or even backpacking though I don't know how well they breathe. And at $60 a suit they aren't expensive.

So with a new rain suit and some insulated  gloves I decided to hit the road. I do have some boot covers for rain which with my wool socks and tennis shoes was going to have to be enough to keep me warm since I really couldn't find any good boots I would want to wear beyond this trip. Eventually buying good water proof boots will probably be something I address for future trips.

With checkout at noon and me running late after my shopping I managed to get out of the motel by about 12:30 and start my trip north. Kind of a late start but I had gotten a lot done in my two days in Brownsville, and as many of my days seem to go, a late start didn't necessarily mean a none productive day, nor that I wasn't going to put in a lot of miles either that day.

It was 90 degrees when I left Brownsville and very humid (here it was the 15th of December). With weather reports ranging from freezing rain in Houston to temperatures in the 30's in northern Texas this balmy weather seemed somewhat ominous. None the less I took off heading north debating if I should put on my new rain gear or not since the clouds were dark and rain looked probable in the north.

About 40 miles down the road from Brownsville the weather started getting cold. The wind was coming from the north and the temperature had plummeted to 40 degrees. The wind chill felt like it was in the twenty's. It was cold, and I felt it. As I moved into this new front a sign said that there was no gas for the next 60 miles. I looked at my gauge and it was just over half full. I only get about 125 miles to a tank when the bike is fully loaded. Driving between 60 and 70 mph's into a stiff wind I knew it was going to be close. I can put in 75 miles and still have three quarters of a tank on the gauge, and then watch it plunge to empty quickly over the course of 50 miles. I had filled up the previous night on my way home from San Padre Island and should have been alright except I had driven 30 or 40 miles out of the way when I got lost going back to the motel. This difference was going to make it closer then I wanted. And while I was glad the sign let me know that there would not be gas for  60 miles, I thought it would have been a lot more helpful if they had put that sign before the last exit where I could have gotten gas instead of 10 miles past the exit. My lazy side did not want to turn around and go some 20 miles back now to get it.

I bundled up and slowed down to about 45 miles per hour to conserve gas. Several times I even thought about pulling over and asking a rancher or someone on the side of the road if they had a gallon of gas I could buy. As cold as the weather was getting I didn't relish the thought of leaving my bike on the side of the road  to have to hitchhike to get gas. There was also a highway patrol or a cop every 10 miles it seemed with radar. I thought about even stopping and asking them for gas. Why this stretch of road needed so much speed protection was kind of beyond me, though being a main route from the border must have had something to do with it.

So as I continued to drive slower and slower, and watch my gas gauge go down more and more I just couldn't believe I was going to make it. I came upon a military check point for traffic heading north and was stopped and questioned for my country of origin. I asked the soldier how far before the next gas and he said about 20 miles. I almost asked him if they had any for sale there, but they all looked a little too official to be selling gas! My reserve tank which I had just gone onto might be good for 25 miles under ideal conditions, these weren't. So I pulled out of the check point and headed into the cold north wind keeping on. I couldn't believe I was working on 9000 miles and here I was in real danger of running out of gas for the first time, in Southern Texas of all places...

Fortunately the total distance turned out to be about 50 miles instead of 60 or I don't think I would have made it. I pulled into a gas station and filled up. It was so cold and the wind was just howling. Hard to believe just a couple of hours ago it was 90 degrees in Brownsville. I stay'd in the station for awhile and had some hot cocoa before putting all my clothes on and heading out. I think a snowmobile suit with winter boots and a full face mask might have been enough to keep me warm in this cold, I don't know.

In a short time I came to a small town west of Corpus Cristi, I kind of recognized it from when I had come thru the first time down. It was also the place I had met and made a friend. As I was passing a gas station I spotted him, this guy with a cross standing in the howling wind... Steven, I pulled up in front of him and of course he remembered me. We laughed and looked at each other. Both of our faces were beat red from the cold and wind, and with the traffic noise and the wind howling it was like we were meeting on another planet. It is hard to describe how cold it was, or how cold we were. We talked for a few minutes and he asked me if I wanted to get something to eat, his treat. For some reason Mexican food was out! And we decided on Pizza. He put his cross in the back of his pickup and we drove to a place down the road.

We ended up ordering a large Stromboli and splitting it, it was sooooo good.....Between the cold and a diet totally lacking in anything Italian for a couple of months, this was a real treat. I did not want to face the cold again so it was easy to sit there and talk for two hours. I told him about my trip and he told me about his calling to carry the cross. We also talked about the difficulty of giving up ones personal desires and trying to hear what god wants for you instead. I have my respect for Steven because like he says, he could be doing many other things, but he feels carrying the cross and spreading Jesus's word is a higher calling. I had to question my own trip compared to his in ways, and it reminded me as well that most of the happiest and highest people I know are all people who in some way are giving something to others. Quite often in ways, giving them selves.

Can you imagine Mother Theresa saying something like, "well I think I'll go do something I want to do today instead of helping the poor". You kind of get the picture. Sometimes also I think when pursuing spiritual paths and ideals it is "responsible" to enlist the aid of a teacher or guide, someone who has been where you are at or trying to get to.  I suggested this to Steven as well, the dangers of going it alone in spiritual matters are evident. Even the highest of the high have their friends or teachers they check in with to make sure they aren't making huge decisions based on their own information alone. Of course the other side of this is that each person in the end must make their own decisions based on the present circumstances as they see them and their own conscience.

At one point a waitress had to come over and ask Steven why he had a cross in the back of his truck. His answer was straight from the bible and retold the tale that Jesus died so we could live. I added, it also was a symbol of suffering of which in ways we all have to endure. Each of us have our own crosses to bear, and our greatest lessons and opportunities for growth come from our willingness to embrace our own suffering, make it holy, and allow it to transform ourselves. The required amount of faith to approach life this way is the highest pursuit or endeavor we as humans can achieve. Its a beautiful thing to see and to know. The fact that our own suffering like Christ's can be viewed as also our greatest opportunity for growth and change is something that is not usually taught in traditional Christian circles, or at least not quite in that way. Christ is often viewed as a super being that was perfect and the best we can do is try to be like him, in ways this is a useful belief and no doubt true. But I also believe his message was more, It was," just don't worship me or idolize  me, but become me." Whatever I have achieved so can you, it not only is your birthright, it is your duty.... This message comes more from monks and people leading contemplative lives perhaps then simply people preaching the word of God. But I think the more one actually study's mysticism or read writings of people who do, one begins to understood the deeper meanings behind all ritual, faith and beliefs.

As we finished our meal and long conversation Steven had mentioned he had some friends north of there that could probably set me up for the night. He said they smoke and then kind of backed off the invitation perhaps thinking I wouldn't want it for that reason. I was hoping to get on the other side of Houston and hopefully get into Louisiana that night if I could, which was pretty ambitious, so I wasn't really interested in a place anyway. Here it was nearly six o'clock and I had barely come 100 miles on the day. It was bitter cold and dark, and for the first time on the trip I really didn't look forward to riding my bike. After exchanging  addresses again and a hug I left Steven. He was driving to a warm home and I was envious, as I headed out into the cold Texas night.

There was nothing to do but drive and persevere. I found if I held one arm up cross ways in front of my chest it would block the wind from hitting my face and head. My face and my feet were the most exposed parts it seemed and if I could have found a scarf for my face it would have helped a lot. I was about 4 hours from Houston and that was my first goal.

I stopped mainly just for gas and at one place I stopped I went into a McDonalds to warm up and had a cup of coffee. It was also a bus stop and there were people waiting everywhere. I sat there and again sort of felt like a alien, or someone coming from a different place and seeing our culture in the states differently for maybe the first time. Probably not unlike a soldier who has been out of the country for awhile and then after coming back everything may feel familiar, but it doesn't quite feel the same as it did when you left. I guess time to a degree changes this, but as I wrote in an earlier blog, the feeling one gets from traveling outside one owns culture and to exotic places I don't think ever totally wears off, and on some level home will never be the same because you've had a chance to experience something else that is at times a deep contrast to it. Maybe again, not so unlike a soldier coming home.

Somehow I seemed to be able to keep warm, do alright, and just keep heading for Houston. At least after I got on  highway 59 off of 77 I was heading Northeast and it was no longer directly into the wind. I reached Houston about 10 or 11 and it had started to rain, which meant it had warmed up a little, and it wasn't snow. Being that late, traffic was light and as I wound my way thru the skyscrapers looking to pick up Interstate 10 east I was reminded of my night riding, floating and yoga post I wrote earlier in my trip after traveling thru Chicago late at night. Again traveling thru the skyscrapers on winding freeways late at night at 70 miles an hour in light traffic is like floating, it is one of the neatest experiences of motorcycling, and a great way to experience some of this countries biggest cities.

Unfortunately the rain started to come down heavier as I stopped for gas. I knew I wanted to at least get 50 miles on the other side of Houston before I stopped for the night. This would get me closer to Louisiana and  ahead of the weather front where the warmer air should be. Houston was also forecasted to be on the edge of possible freezing rain which would have stopped me cold, no pun intended. It was a little warmer here in Houston but it was still cold as the rain continued to come down and I found myself on a 5 lane Interstate heading east. I drove for another two hours before I started looking for a hotel, and the rain was becoming too heavy to drive any further.

Unfortunately I was just north of Galveston and the hurricane that had come thru there this year had left many people homeless and living in motels. This meant that even if I could find a room I would be paying 2 to 3 times what I would normally have to pay. After checking with several different hotels with prices ranging as high as $120 a night for a room I found one for about $90. It was 40 degrees, raining, cold and 1 o'clock in the morning, I took it. I had managed to drive over 400 miles for the day, this after leaving Steven at 6 o'clock at night and maybe having drove only a hundred miles for the day.

I had done some of the worst riding of the trip but had managed to get ahead of the front and into slightly warmer weather. I was about 50 miles west of Beaumont Texas and would be into Louisiana early in the morning and for some reason just the sound of Louisiana seemed to warm me up. Of course I did not realize that just the previous week they had had a rare snow storm and their winter was also turning into a hard one. And with at least another 1400 miles to Michigan, I wasn't sure how many  more of these kind of days I could put in, especially if it was going to get colder. I was now more or less in survival mode, the rain gear had worked well and I was staying dry, but the cold and damp was starting to get to me. This kind of riding I needed to take a totally different approach to, or none at all, like maybe just not riding in it! But like riding in the mountains in spring if your going to do it you have to prepare for weather similar to this. And I have thought of riding to Alaska for my next adventure and I would need to look at perhaps getting different gear. Of course preparing for winter and the tropics on the same trip does complicate things a little.

This post is was my first one without pictures, or at least any new ones. While there will be a few on the rest of the trip and my next post, for the most part for these two or three days I could have taken one picture and that was basically what all three days looked like traveling across the south. A big cloud bank of mist and cold with visibility at about a half a mile or so. It wasn't ice fog and it wasn't raining hard, but it was just cold and damp. My Frog rain gear made me feel like a frog, but it did well and kept me dry and blocked the wind.

Tomorrow Louisiana and Mississippi, some more great food, and a great Art Gallery and its owner. And more of the same weather......

 

Last day in Mexico and my return to Texas

 

On the way to Matamoros, I passed this windmill and the cold ground clinging mists of the morning.

After getting up I left Tres Palos for the last 150 miles to Matamoros and the border. Since there were basically no towns in between and the roads were in good shape, it only took a couple of hours or so to get there.

It was cold though and mists hung over some of the lower parts of the fields. It almost felt like fall in the northern reaches of the U.S. And again I thought of the weather reports not too far to the north, and the arctic temperatures. I wondered how far I would actually be able to get, and if the 3 or 4 day window of warmer weather I was hoping for would actually occur so I could ride all the way home. It was still one day at a time and I had to get a lot closer, because even if that window I was looking for did happen I needed to be two or three days from Michigan to use it, not 4 or 5 as I was now. I figured the sooner I got to Mississippi or even Memphis the sooner I could just position myself to wait on the weather to change, and finish the last leg when it did. And again it would do no good for the weather to change if I wasn't in a position to use it.

I also thought about my bike and getting to Brownsville. I had left at first light thinking I might be able to get to the Kawasaki dealer and get my radiator plug fixed that day instead of having to wait till Monday to do it. I also needed my oil changed, laundry done and to catch up on my blog. The Motel 6 in Brownsville where I had stay'd coming down was where I could stay and rest while getting all these things done. Even if I had to wait till Monday to get my bike fixed the day of rest would not go to waste. It was funny, even though I could use the day off after pushing across Central America and Mexico, I just wanted to get everything done as soon as possible, and it made sense to just keep moving and not spend any time in Brownsville, even though I had sort of dreamt sometimes of just getting back there and being able to relax. The luxury of being back in the U.S. didn't seem to be all that luxurious, and the truth is I still had a long way to go if I was going to get back before the holidays.

The somewhat barren landscape stretching hundreds of miles from the gulf, and south and westward from the U.S. border and Brownsville.

The ride to the border was uneventful. I did pass a couple of the police check points on the other side of the road I had to go thru the first time heading south. There was also one military check point heading north I met but they just waived me thru.

As I reached Matamoros I began to remember how big this city was and also that they had 3 separate border crossings into Brownsville. I thought it would be easy with multiple signs showing the way but there wasn't that I could find. I thought to myself that Mexico would have one or two more things to throw my way, and it did. I stopped and asked directions one more time and again thru luck and some general sense of direction I found the border I had crossed at originally coming down.

My last fill up in Mexico. The Pemex's what I assume are state owned gas stations, were my life line for gas and water for my entire trip across the country.

I still had to find the right building to get my passport stamped and my vehicle permit canceled. Someone pointed the way for me, and again I was relieved there was no handlers and he wasn't going to take over and end up trying to charge me something. After going back to the same building I used to enter Mexico, it was all pretty easy. There was a 45 minute wait in line and I had parked in the wrong place and the clerk made me move and bring my bike up and pass the military check point, where the soldiers once again went thru my bags. Everything was pretty easy to get at, and by now I was getting to be a pro at this since this was probably the 7th time now my bags had been looked at on my trip back thru Mexico. And that's basically all they did, they just looked in all the pockets, they never meticulously went thru every little thing, which I was grateful for.

Back in the U.S. and Texas. This is one of the last places along the Texas Gulf still building oil rigs. I was told the other two had been temporarily closed down due to the economy.

So my passport stamped and my vehicle permit canceled (again make sure this gets done before you leave the country or it could be an expensive hassle) I headed across the International Bridge for one more traffic jam at the U.S. border. This took about an hour and while I was in line I called the Kawasaki dealer to see if they could look at my bike. They said they were open till six and could do it that day. They also said they would be closed Sunday and Monday so today being Saturday it was a good day to get it done.

When I reached customs for the U.S. the guy checked my license plate number, asked me if I was a U.S. citizen and where I was from, and that was it, welcome home. Now it was time to go get my bike fixed and maybe find a place to eat some American food since I hadn't ate anything yet that day. I headed for the Kawasaki dealer where I was kind of treated as a hero almost. They couldn't believe I had taken my bike all the way across Central America and Mexico. In fact when I walked in the sale room one of the sales guys asked me " you must ride a lot " and I said "why". He said "because you have a tan mark on the side of your face from your helmet". Yes I felt like a real warrior at this point!

Sunset on San Padre Island, Texas.

The good news after they looked at it was that it was only the radiator plug itself and not the hose, or worse a hole in the radiator. The bad news sort of, was it was going to take several hours to fix it since they had to go to the store to get the part and they seemed to be tied up with other repair work as well. After some of my past experiences with having to be on guard constantly for being overcharged I was almost tempted to get their estimate in writing. And when he wouldn't give me a direct estimate when asked I was apprehensive to say the least.

I visited with one of the sales guys for awhile and gave him my blogsite so we visited that and checked it out, and then we went to Adventure Riders website where I checked out that rather popular site for the first time. In fact I think Dr. Greg Frazier maybe the editor of that site (I know one of you can help me out with a comment here!) for I've heard about it now from different people. KL650's seem to be the theme here, and taking the bike as far as it will go into some amazing places. Sort of like out of bounds skiing, only this is out of bounds motorcycling! Some pretty amazing stuff, and some really neat pictures. When I get my site a little more organized that would be another good link to add. While I'm not into simply pushing the limits of a bike and myself per say (there are too many other stories happening as well, mainly the country and people your visiting), certainly any trip south of the border or into the many remote places of the world push the limits of your bike anyway as well as yourself, so the theme here between the two sites is consistent. I can appreciate what they do and why.

This gulf Pelican, one of many that are along the shores of San Padre Island.

So after having made a connection with the people at the dealership, and kind of picking the guys brain on the KL650, Kawasaki's Dual Sport, as well as the new Kawasaki 1200, their answer to a BMW I guess,  complete with an automatic adjustable windshield, I decided to head out for lunch. I walked about a mile down to the nearest strip mall and went in to order the basics, a Grilled Hamburger and Fries and an Ice Tea. The service was not very good, in fact it was terrible, I had to go to the bar to get waited on. When I finally ordered and then got my food, I didn't see the bartender again until I was ready to leave. My thought was ,gee, in Mexico and Central America they don't expect you to tip and generally you get great service. In the states they expect you to tip, and often don't. Any "obligation" I had carried to tip in the states regardless of the quality of service was fast dissipating. In fact a contrast in work ethics, at least on a certain level would not be hard to imagine exists. Another debate for another time perhaps.

After my first American food in weeks, and yes it did taste good, I walked back to the shop expecting my bike to be done. It wasn't and it took another hour and a half before it was. At this point with what appeared to be 3 mechanics in the garage not overly swamped with work, and really just a plug for my radiator to be gotten, I could not imagine what was taking so long, and I was still apprehensive about what the bill was going to be. So with time to spare I made some calls now that my cell phone was working again. I have Alltel and about the only place it might work outside of the U.S. is down around Mexico City.

This view of the gulf, in the distance you can see the bridge that connects San Padre Island with the mainland.

I called my dad first and he wondered where I had been even though I told him where I was going. With his Dementia he just couldn't seem to place where Texas, Mexico, or Central America are. It was Ok, it was good to hear his voice even though I don't think he understood a word I said, or maybe even that it was me. He may have thought it was my brother Ron. I then called a friend and then my sister, I was back in the loop.

Finally the bike was ready, the charge for the plug, new radiator coolant, and topping off the engine oil, and putting air in the tires $30, or basically a half hours labor. They also cleaned the entire bike up and the mechanic said I might look at getting a valve job after I got back to Michigan, but everything else seemed fine. He also felt both tires were good for the rest of the trip back. After 8,000 very hard miles on them it was a nice surprise. This was very reasonable and I wrote them a letter later thanking them for the good service, even if it had taken a long time, which they had apologized for as well. It goes without saying that at many places where you get service you feel that you often pay for more then you got, here was not the case, and being a traveler one tends to be even more grateful for good service and not being overcharged.

So to think I not only had finished my leg in Mexico but had gotten the repairs on my bike I needed all in one day on a weekend felt good. If I didn't have so many other things to do I think I would have just headed back on the road that night. But I had to get my oil changed, do laundry and catch up on my blog. For some reason while I had fantasized at times about being able to rest in a Motel 6 (of all places), watch cable t.v. and do my laundry, it now for was not that appealing. Kind of strange, like now I just wanted to travel and luxury didn't seem to have that strong of pull on me. I guess I was changing into a Road Warrior...

Well I went to the Motel 6 I had stay'd at on my way thru the first time. It was very busy being a Saturday night, it looked like a lot of the people checking in were actually traveling to or from Mexico. Something also I noticed in Brownsville was that everyone either spoke Spanish exclusively, even in businesses, or spoke both Spanish and English. Its as close to being in a foreign country without leaving the U.S. as possible. It would also be a good place to practice Spanish while still living in the U.S. since just about everyone was speaking it. Apparently even some business owners would refuse to speak in English even though they could. I thought this was odd too. Another debate for another time perhaps.

After refusing the first two rooms because they smelled so bad from cleaning chemicals I finally found one that was tolerable and settled in for a couple of nights. About all I wanted to do was relax, but I did have a lot to do and knew that wasn't going to happen.

The weather was warm, in the 70's the next day as I headed to Walmart to get my oil changing materials. The Kawasaki shop had quoted me $60 to change my oil. When I was traveling out on the East Coast last year a dealer had charged me $85 (as noted in a previous post) for one. For $15 in oil, a $6 filter, a cheap oil drain pan and some towels I could do it for about $25. The question was where to do it, and where to dispense of the used oil here in the middle of suburbia and strip malls.

I figured if worst came to worse I could always leave the oil at a car instant oil change place with a note asking them to please dump it for me in their recycle bin. Being Sunday nothing was open anyway. However Pep Boys or Auto Zone often accept used oil and I found one that said they would. I should have just asked them if they minded if I changed my oil in their parking lot but didn't want to have them so say no, so I thought I would find an empty lot or something to work in and bring the oil back to them. As it was I felt guilty doing this.

I found an empty lot right off of a main road next to a bar restaurant and got to work changing my oil. As traffic drove by and someone from the restaurant drove out to the lot to see what I was doing, I began to feel guilty like I was trying to get away with something and should have just asked for permission. I kept waiting for the cops to pull up and ask me what I was doing.

It took about 25 minutes to change the oil and filter, get the used oil back in a container, get cleaned up and bring the old oil over to the Auto Zone for recycling. There were a few drops of oil on the ground where I had worked but basically there was no evidence I had been there at all. I guess to alleviate this feeling of guilt next time I'll simply ask until I find a place that will let me change it on their property. The oil drain pan I got from Walmart I wiped out and left next to a bathroom at a county park hoping a camper or someone would find a use for it, or at worst it would get recycled.

I still needed to do some shopping for winter clothes for the trip back and the upcoming cold weather, but everything else now was basically done. I decided to go over to San Padre Island one last time and see if that restaurant with the great shrimp was still open. The wind had been blowing really hard almost since I had arrived and I wondered what the island and the waves would be like over there.

I drove into the night and the heavy winds the 30 miles to the island (there is a great long bridge to the island by the way) and watched the sunset and then headed out for dinner. The place I had eaten at the previous time was closed but I found another good place, a quiet little bar that had a good menu. I stuck to seafood, shrimp and scallops and again wasn't disappointed. At this point I decided I could live along the Gulf Coast quite easily, if for no other reason then to eat their seafood.

Later going back to the Motel I took a wrong turn and ended up going about 30 miles out of my way. This would turn out to be almost disastrous the next day as I headed north into the cold and a stretch of highway that had few gas stations. After coming all this way, at this point about 8000 miles without any gas scarcity issues, to have to face them on a stretch of highway in Texas seemed sort of ironic.

Back at the motel I watched the weather reports north of me. With below zero temperatures in most of the Plains States and freezing rain from Houston across Louisiana into Mississippi and up to Memphis, it seemed my window I was looking for to get back to Michigan was not going to happen. Still I had to try to get as far north as I could to either position myself for that window in case it happened, or if I was going to rent a u-haul as I had planned if needed, I wanted to get as close as I could to Michigan to reduce that expense of having to do so. It seemed the current weather front extended only as far as Houston and not quite into Louisiana so if I could get ahead of it I should run into a different weather system.

So the plan was to do some winter clothes shopping in the morning, bundle up, and head north. As it turned out I was going to need all the protection I could get.

 

In the Motel 6 parking lot in Brownsville, once again heading north on the road.....