It's not weird, it's Mexico.f
Mexico took much longer than expected. When we were planning looking at the map, we’d expected to cross through texas, which would have brought us down the East Coast, and we would have saved some time. As it was, we rode nearly three thousand miles of Mexico! (including Baja). Before going there, I had made up my mind that I just wanted to get through. I had thought of Mexico as a means to an end, and didn’t expect to find much that I liked there, and also had it in my head this would be the least American friendly place. I expected that since the country has enough money to have a taste of what we have, they’d want more, and to take it from us. I definitely expected haters… When we landed in Mazatlan, it started to fell like “real” Mexico- the city obviously wasn’t run around tourism. Right after getting off the ferry, we stop in front of a motorcycle shop and I tell the guy my chain “tiene sed.” He greases mine, then the other three adventure riders we were with from the ferry. They don’t ask for any money, but we tip them out a couple of buck each.
From there we got our first taste of riding in a group, and it feels pretty good. The group soon splits, and three of us take the free road while the other two rock the Couta. Then we lose our bunkmate Anthony when he doesn’t want to ride at night, and Matt and I press on to Puerta Vallarta, where we meet our couchsurfing host Rolando.
He speaks excellent English, and tells me my Spanish is basic. But I was so proud of my skills! I get a shave from an old man, who makes my mustache look just like his that he’s had for 40 years and also tells me my razor is ruined from letting Karem try to sharpen it with another knife when she wanted to rid the world of my ‘stache. Oh well.
We get a late start out and head to Manzanillo after an impulsive stop bungee jumping on the way out...
I had taken a screenshot of the map of the Mismo Sol Hostel, which takes us into a neighborhood where kids are playing soccer in the dirt streets with no shoes on, and nobody has heard of this hostel and can’t imagine why we don’t just want one of the roach motels down the street. We roll around looking for
awhile, and finally hear and smell the resemblance of a Bob Marley concert.
We meet Buffalo Don, who lets us pull our bikes inside the gate, and we kick it with him for a bit.
He tells us how the medias exaggeration of Swine Flu has nearly put him out of business. This reiterates what Rolando had told us in Puerto Vallarta. Common story here: how the general public eats up stories of danger and fear. This is also why most people think this trip of ours is dangerous. It’s up to us really to figure out what’s true. What’s the credibility of the source of information? Like our Aussie friend says. “Mom says Russia is dangerous. ‘When’s the last time you were there mom?’” I only listened to people who’d done similar trips, and they all agree it’s safe and cool. But if you’re closed minded, and prone to believing fear-inducing stories, you’ll always remember someone who told you about someone they know who was robbed. If you believe everything you see on television, you’ll only turn the world into something George Orwell or Aldus Huxley might have imagined. I guess critical thinking isn’t for everyone though…
We didn’t make it too far from there after a late start, and tried to find a hotel at a random town, which was pretty basic. We take a wrong turn and wind up on a beach in the middle of nowhere that uses solar power only. We hit on the girls working there, whom are 22 and not allowed out at night without their family. They hand us off some beers, which we take to the beach and jump in the warm ocean water then cool off and get a beautiful timelapse of the stars and palm trees there.
We get to Acapulco and Matt’s headlight isn’t working, so we share a lane as best we can, which is really hard entering Acapulco from the north, where the roads are windy with heavy traffic and there’s no patience from any locals. Matt almost takes a digger after trying to pass a bus on the right in the sand! Nice save, thank P90X. We find our way to a hostel in the center of town on the beach. The bartender/laundry cougar hits on my mustache for a little while, but it’s not enough to coax me into giving her a ride home on the bike. “Lo siento, pero ya he tomado.” Acapulco is a night of dance party, where the local dudes aren’t too happy to see Matt and I getting attention from the hottest girls there. Fuck em, we checked the girls ID’s what else do they want from us? I also met some very cool guys that night too, but they weren’t form Acapulco. I find more locals in tourist towns represent this group of people that I expected more of in Mexico- haters that see what we have and think it’s not fair. The girls take us for some really dank midnight tacos.
We’re out of Acapulco by 11am on three hour’s sleep, and head out for about a half hour until we realize Matt’s bike isn’t running right. I noticed he wasn’t behind me, so I waited on the side of the road until he finally shows up 20 minutes later. I guess his bike is sputtering at high RPMs… Coupled with the headlight, I’m thinking this must be electrical. Anyway, the bike’s good enough to make it so we just ride it as is. We roll into Puerto Escondido, again with no headlight. At least we’re not in a big city. Again with the screenshot of the map, we’re lost in the town of people who don’t know what a hostel is. As we’re navigating the dirt streets, Steve rolls up on a moped and tells us to follow him to the Twin Bridge Hostel. He takes us out that night to meet some Americans hanging out with a Ed, who exports Mezcal from Oaxaca, and I enjoy the company of some chilled out dudes who share a passion for cold beer, warm weather, and motorcycles. Some of the guys live there, some just visiting. It’s interesting to meet the Americans who’ve decided to leave their homeland and live in Mexico- especially when they don’t speak Spanish!
We stay there for another day and I go “swimming with turtles”, which should go by the more accurate term, “molesting a turtle in the ocean.” I basically held on to an unhappy turtle in the water for a minute while he’s hogtied with a rope. The best part of that one was watching our man Felix bellyflop into the water trying to grab them as soon as he’d see them- fthird time’s a charm. I’m on sunset timelapse duty, but I might have boned the shot practicing my Spanish with a friendly server who makes a point to drop me her email.
We leave hoping to get to Salina Cruz for the night, and wind up there for lunch! Holy shit we’re actually ahead of schedule! Nice town, girls giving us the bedroom eyes from all over, and lunch only cost the two of us like $50 pesos. We make for the border, and get as far as a little town Pijijiapan, about two hours from the border.
Good night’s rest and we make for it. We get to the border and meet the “helpers” for the first time, who are trying to stand in front of us, but I’ve read about them on ADVrider.com so I try to run them over with confidence.