Crossing from the US into Mexico was a low key affair with only one minor problem. We decided to avoid the main crossing point of Tijuana and crossed inland at the smaller crossing at Tecate. I knew that the Tijuana crossing would be packed and I thought that Tecate would be quieter and easier.

There wasn’t much security on the Mexico side. In fact we had a bit of trouble finding someone to get our visa and passport stamped. The main problem was that there was no Banjercito or military bank. The Banjercito was where I had to organise the temporary import permit for Kitty, without it we could not get the ferry across to the mainland, so that meant a trip into Tijuana which we had hoped to avoid. So a couple of days later I rode back into Tijuana from the south and then spent the next two hours riding around the city trying to find the Banjercito without getting stuck on the road back into the US. When I finally did get there the paperwork itself was very easy.

We rode down to Punta Banda, a small seaside area south of Ensenada. While we were in San Francisco, Dennis had kindly offered us the use of a holiday home they had at Punta Banda (thanks again). We stayed here for a few days before heading down the Baja peninsula.

Dennis’s sister originally owned the villa and she was quite an artist. All the room were brightly coloured and filled with her paintings

The only slight downside is that the house uses bore water that can only  be used for washing but not drinking. It has distinct aroma, think mild rotten eggs and you’ll get the idea. Funnily enough you don’t notice after a while 🙂

Since we were running late on the trip we decided only to go half way down the peninsula before catching the ferry to the mainland, it also meant a shorter ferry trip which as it turns out was a better plan.

From Santa Rosalia we caught a ferry across to the mainland, apart from the normal confusion and concern about boarding and tying down Kitty it was a smooth trip. Well I thought it was a smooth trip, someone else was busy throwing up in a toilet, I mean really, I’ve seen bigger waves in a bath tub (Carolyn – the locals smoking didn’t help my fragile stomach at all).

The biggest problem was that it wrecked my secret plan of a 7 day voyage from Panama to Columbia on the Stallratte, a large sail boat that I knew would take us and a motorcycle. It looks like the 3 of us will be flying. Bugger. To keep the punters amused on the ferry we were subjected to some of the lowest budget DVD films I have ever seen, having some of them dubbed in Spanish didn’t make them any better.

From Guaymas we rode west to Creel and Barranca del Cobre or Copper Canyon. If you like narrow windy roads with lots and lots of corners Highway 16 is the road for you. Unfortunately the local trucks like this road as well and it can be a little bit exciting meeting a semi trailer on a hairpin bend that has decided to use both lanes. Breathe in dearest, this will be close.

Copper Canyon is the second largest canyon system in the world (The Grand canyon is the third largest) I had planned to ride down into it, but just before I left Santa Rosalia I discovered that Kitty’s rear wheel had developed some loose spokes and the entire wheel had a side to side wobble so I had to content myself with a ride only on the tarmac not down to the town of Batopilas in the heart of the Canyon. Another trip maybe?

We did do a couple of small trips along the rim of the canyon but never went down to the canyon floor

From Creel we headed to the town of Chihuahua by the time we got here my fears were confirmed that the wheel was getting worse and that we would have to get it fixed here rather than in Mexico City. There are many things I can’t do and fixing the wheel is another that I’ll have to add to the list. It would have to be shipped back to the US, repaired, and then sent back.

So now we are at the Hotel San Juan in Chihuahua. In its heyday this would have been a grand hotel with a tiled courtyard in the heart of the city. Unfortunately its heyday has long past and is looking somewhat shabby these days. But a room rate of $16/night is not to be sneezed at, especially since I didn’t know how long we would be here. Being in the centre of town and having a secure place to keep Kitty the Unicycle sealed the plan.

Chihuahua is in the heart of the Mexican cattle country and where you find cows you find cowboys, and cowboys wear hats and boots, very pointy toed and colourful boots. There are quite a few hat and boot shops near the main square selling boots in all different styles and colours including an eye catching number that’s hot pink in colour with a snakeskin finish and  horizontal black tiger stripes, I’m not sure what sort of cowboy wears this style of boot but I think he rides near Brokeback Mountain. By the way I’m not making this up check out the photos on the Chihuahua web page.

 

After two weeks in our salubrious hotel which included several days delay due to Mexican customs I was the proud owner of a refurbished wheel and the next day we bid a fond farewell to Chihuahua and its boots.

Heading south we reached the colonial town of Zacatecas and would have liked to have stayed for more that the planned overnight stop but we had to get to Mexico City as we had been invited by Garry & Ivonne to spend Christmas with them but as fate decreed that was not to be when we lost power to one cylinder not long after leaving Zacatecas.

You already know the story of what happened to Kitty’s engine from my earlier email (Kitty gets Montezuma’s revenge). Continuing on with the story we did get down to Mexico City without any other road sides repairs and by the time I met up with Garry outside of Mexico City I was getting confident that I wouldn’t need to repair the damaged stud until I got back to Australia.

After the New Year celebrations had faded into a forgotten hangover I paid a visit to a local BMW dealer and while they were helpful I really wasn’t happy about the idea of them doing major engine surgery and the engine was still sounding fine. Now I kid you not, by the time I got back to Garry’s house the engine was starting to rattle again. Sure enough when I checked the stud was loose again. Bugger.

Garry again came to my rescue as he suggested an ex BMW mechanic who worked for himself these days. So Adrian came around and said that he had replaced these studs before, no problem.

To give him credit he knew what he was doing, in 10 minutes the piston and cylinder are on the ground and the dead stud was being removed. This was part that worried me as he got possibly the world’s oldest power drill with a power cord that would give any health and safety inspector an instant heart attack and started to bore into crankcase. You only get one chance to do this correctly and so I started have kittens when I saw him running the drill in reverse (and he didn’t realise it) with the hole getting very ragged. After sorting out that problem the rest of the job went smoothly even with me “helping” (read that as hovering very, very closely). In two hours we had the bike up and running. Total cost $100, a bargain.

While in Mexico City, Garry and Ivonne were kind enough to take us around and show us more of the sights that we could possibly have managed if we had been on our own. Again, thanks for all your hospitality.

After Mexico City we started to seriously get into Mayan ruin country and my travel companion/part time archaeologist had a list of ruin sites that stretched across the country(ies). I remember back in Europe suffering from ABC syndrome (“not another bloody church/castle”) I’m thinking that ABR syndrome might be a related condition.

I did make a discovery today if ever you see a wind farm next to you as you are travelling down the road then there is a good possibility that area gets very windy and it’s wise to slow down a bit. As we came around a bend we were hit with the full force of cross wind and went flying sideways, I recovered just in time but for a moment I had a vision of extracting Kitty (and us) from the road side foliage. Driving off a road embankment at 90kph is not my idea of fun.

On The Topic of Topes (as well Reductors, Vibratores, Bumps)

Somewhere in the deepest bowels of the Mexican government some unnamed bureaucrat many years ago had a brilliant idea to solve the traffic speeding problem. There’s no point in putting up speed limit signs as they completely ignored unless the federalies are next to you and maybe not even then. So the Tope, Reductor, Vibratore or speed hump was born. When I say born I don’t mean that it’s like a Panda Bear birth a rare and wonderful occasion it’s more like a Cane Toad spawning, there are thousands of the bastards.

In the ideal world Topes are freshly painted with bright white and yellow stripes with warning signs to inform the unsuspecting traveller that a road obstacle is ahead. The Tope itself would have a gentle rise and fall and be of such a height that it makes its presence felt to the driving population but not make you feel that you are doing an impression of an Evel Knievel jump.

In reality they can be totally unmarked and have the rise and fall characteristics of a house brick while being only slightly smaller than an Aztec Pyramid. Even the smallest one horse town will have at least four topes to greet you as you travel through it and on the roads we are travelling there are a lot of small towns. I lost count of the number of them in Mexico City.

The final part of my rant is where they put topes, now I can understand putting them in towns to slow down the average bat out of hell car, truck and Oz motorcyclist but having them on the open highway (including toll roads) is really exciting when you discover that you are about to hit one at 100+kph

They say the road to hell is paved with good intensions, it’s my fervent dream that said unnamed bureaucrat is tied down across that road and high speed BMW motorcycle’s with steel spiked wheels are driving over him for all eternity.

Before getting into Mexico I had been warned driving down here could be demanding but in general I’ve been pleasantly surprised, I’ve been in counties that are much more challenging. Not that we haven’t had some interesting moments.

We were merging from one main highway onto another highway a couple of days ago and I realised at the last second that there was about a 6-8 inch difference in the road height, we hit that at about 60 kph. All I had time to do was say “oh sh”, the beloved did her version of an Apollo moon mission and Kitty landed hit half a ton of bricks. I’m reserving a spot for the civil engineering genius who joined those roads next to the tope bureaucrat.

Hang on one more Tope rant. Today in the middle of nowhere, coming down the mountains today from San Cristobal on a nice windy road, leaning around a fast left hand corner, right on the exit is a monster tope across the road. That was an exciting moment I can tell you. That road now has two engineers and a bureaucrat tied onto it.

You may wonder what a typical days start for us is like. First the alarm will go off at the crack of 7am and straightaway we hit the snooze button, many times, until a voice will say

“We should get up, you have first shower”

“No, you have first shower, I’m tired”

“I had first shower yesterday”

“I had first shower for two days running”

“Alright I’ll get up”

As you can see we are not morning people.

After having the morning shower argument it’s time to play my favourite game of Where Is?

“Carolyn have you seen my xxx?”

Xxx can be shoes, socks, toothbrush, wallet, keys, keys, keys and a myriad of other items that seem to vanish from my sight. Fortunately Carolyn is an expert at knowing the answers to this game. It’s one of the roles she has on the trip to make sure that I don’t leave souvenirs behind which brings up a funny variation to the Where Is game that happened the morning we were due to leave Mexico for the Belize border.

Just as we were leaving the hotel that morning, I thought of a final round of Where Is?

“Carolyn, have you seen my helmet?”

“It’s in the room isn’t it?”

“No”

“Did you bring it up from the bike last night?”

“I’m sure I did….I think”

Yep you guessed it. We have two people and only one helmet in a small town in Southern Mexico, in the words of Chris, fcuk.

Ok, time for plan B, buy a new helmet. With the help of Eduardo, an American guy who we met the previous evening I find out the name of a local shop that might possibly sell a motorcycle crash helmet. To my amazement they do, even more amazingly it fits, fairly well. But wait there’s more, in the box not only was there a crash helmet but there was a jacket, a shirt, gloves and even some shades. The complete gung ho motorcyclist’s starters kit all for 500 pesos ($50). Italika, the finest name in pseudo Italian branded motorcycle wear. While I have a shiny new red helmet I really don’t want to test it out in any serious way, I think it may be almost worth the money I paid for it. Throughout the trip I have left other souvenirs behind but this was one that I’m not going to be allowed to forget for a long time.

Just as a side point there must be a gazillion small factories in Korea, China, etc pumping out small capacity motorcycles with familiar names such as Kazuki, Honta and of course my favourite brand Italika. They are everywhere around here.

We’ve just clocked up 31,000km and there was much rejoicing. We’re about to head into Belize and then the rest of Central America but that will be the end of the trip (for now) as we have run out of time, money and weather.

We still have the fun of getting down through Central America and working out how to get Kitty home. I had the theory that there would be around gazillion cargo ships going from Panama to Australia. I mean they are famous for a big canal, but it’s proving to be something of a challenge to find a ship.

 

A few bonus photos