Mexico Bound
PHOTOS
MAP
We laughed around the table in a private room at the 555 East American Steak House in Long Beach, California. Surrounded by fine wine, fancy linen and served top shelf steaks and seafood, I announced: "Well, this is as good as it gets. From now on, its this way." And I put up my arm and show a long arc going down. They all laughed and knew it was true.
We were headed to Mexico the next day, and that was the fact.
I talked to everyone on the trip beforehand and was frank. This would be a true adventure. We would have staff along, but no support truck. We would be getting in after dark, and have mistakes along the way. I needed riders who were willing to help each other and themselves. This ride was not for wimps. We would be riding pavement and dirt. How much dirt? Don't know, this is a scout trip.
We left Long Beach with 14 riders. As we took a picture in front of the Long Beach BMW/Husqvarna Motorcycle Dealership, I looked over the crew. The motorcycle or choice was the BMW GS. Most had brought and equipped their own. It was an awesome sight. We were all Americans, mostly from the the valley, and one Canadian and one Irishman. All of them were excited.
Patrick lead us to the border. We decided on a "short" day, and to just get to Tecate via the scenic route, and then cross the border early after noon and rest up as close to there as possible.
The ride out of Long Beach was like California Dreaming. After about 20 minutes of enduring the 405 South, we jumped off at Laguna Beach. There, scenes of waves, beach volley ball, palm trees and pretty joggers abounded. Yep, California! We then cut east onto the Ortega Highway and found ourselves in the midst of a terrific ride: tons of curves, perfectly manicured paved bits with elevation changes, mountain scenery and the buzz of motorcyclists coming the other way . This is what is so special about California: One minute you are in the ocean of a superhighway 14 lanes wide, fending for yourself, the next, you are on a solitary highway, climbing to 8,000 ft. California offers some of the best riding anywhere, there is no doubt.
The weather could not have been more perfect as we cut our way south to the border. We jumped on and off main highways, but focused on the backroads. The group as a whole clipped along at a comfortable pace. We picked up Brian along the way at a gas stop and the stopped for lunch in the small, bustling town of Julian.
An hour after that, we were at the border, with the sun already going down. We picked up one more stray, Frank, just at the border before crossing. He made his way to us via Arizona.
This whole trip had been about the preparation: The hotel arrangements, ferry tickets, and the exausting paperwork for the rental bikes. I played out so many scenarios at the border on how it could go. But when we finally got to the border, we were waved through! Boom, we were in Mexico!
We stopped at Immigration and filled out our cards, so we could go deep into the country. Then, John took point and we weaved our way through Tecate to get to our remote destination. As Mexico is, we were suddenly brought to a halt by a Police truck claiming some of us had not signaled nor stopped at some of the stop signs. He wanted $$ or he would "have to take us to the station". He told us to follow him out of town...now...it is getting dark and we are following a policeman!! Mexico strikes first!
He stopped us out of town and we asked him how much. He gave us a price, but Patrick and Steve accosted him at the same time: Patrick with questions and bargaining , and Steve with a video camera. The policeman might have been able to handle a small group, but 16 riders, an inquisitor, and a cameraman....he was overwhelmed and waved us on!
So, as promised, we were in the dark, on the way to find our hotel. Scout trips are full of adventure and unknowns. We had drawn out the itinerary and talked to locals about the route. However, with darkness and first timedness, we had to do some poking around before we were able to negociate the right road to our destination,
We arrived at our Hacienda around 6pm in total darkness. It was located at the end of about 12 miles of dirt, including a stream crossing! Some sandy portions were difficult for some of the riders on the huge GSs, but in all it was manageable. The water crossing got your attention! Yep, we were getting the adventure. And as we pulled into our accommodations, it was all smiles and laughter. We had left the reletively safe confines of southern California, and now were officially in the wilds of Mexico!
That night, we all walked over to the restaurant and enjoyed cocktails, beer and carne asada. Fresh guacamole, frijoles and salsa....ah.....Mexico!
12/9
Tecate Area to Mike's Sky Ranch
We packed our bikes under a canopy of fall leaves. The air was crisp and the sky a solid blue. A breakfast buffet awaited us of torialla chips and salsa, pancakes, hashbrowns, scrambled eggs and ham and refried beans.
We gathered over the map and looked the route over. We were going to go across country on a dirt road through Baja.
Although it was only 50 miles to the paved highway, the road proved challenging. Long areas of deep sand was the order of the day. Most of it was negotiable, but some of it on these big GSs, was a challenge. Bikes were picked up throughout the day. If anything, we all became much better riders because of it.
When we finally hit the pavement again, it was a relief. We sped through the Baja desert south as the sun made its way to the horizon. We stopped at a gasoline station that sold it at liters at a time by hand. Then on to a small restaurant for a burrito lunch.
When we entered the restaurant, we ordered. Then the woman yelled across the street, and thats when we realized she had nothing to make the order: Soon a car arrived with bags of groceries. Then they were off to the kitchen cooking furiously. Before an hour was through, 13 people had been fed! They never say "I can't do that" in Mexico.
The last ride into Mikes Sky Ranch was challenging. Again, sand was along the entire route and with the sun leaving on the horizon, it cast a difficult filter on us. We could not see the road clearly through the shadows cast by it. So, you would go barreling into a bunch of sand and have to just keep on the throttle.
Mike's Sky Ranch has been a Mecca for motorsports enthusiasts for many years. We knew it would take some doing to get there and it was sure worth it. When you arrive, they wave you into the compound. You ride right by reception, then into a pool area, and pick a spot to park around the pool!
Next it was smiles, beers and stories as spirits were raised when the last member of our group made it through the doors. Laughter ran around the poolside under a canopy of blaring stars.
At 7pm, we all went into the dining hall to enjoy a steak dinner - Mikes Specialty.
The ride in was exausting, so most of the riders adjourned to their bedrooms to catch up on the needed rest: We would have to make a run at the same road going out the next day, and I am sure that no one was looking forward to that!
A true adventure we are having in Mexico!
Day 3
Mike's Sky Ranch to Bahia de los Angeles
The next morning at breakfast I admitted that I started awake several times the night before with the vision of crossing my handlbars sideways while baralling down a sandy area.... To this many heads knodded in agreement. We were all a little aprehensive about the ride back out to the highway. The night before, we were tired and the darkness took its toll on our psych.
We hired a truck to take all of our heavy luggage out the 12 miles of dirt and sand, and met him at a gas station on the main highway. After taking the air out of the tires and lessening the load, the bike performed effortlessly through the sandy sections. Indeed, with the sun high in the sky and being rested, the ride out was a fun and no problem at all.
At some point when riding sand you realize that standing on the pegs and giving it gas is the only way to go. When you hit deep sand, the first thing you want to do is slow down and try to get control. The front tire starts to drift, and the feeling of control goes out the window. However, if you slow down, the front tire augers into the sand, and you lose all control. So, the only way to counteract this is to stay on the gas, keeping the front tire up and floating and powering through the loose sand. It feels creepy, not having traction, but the more you throttle, the more you keep upright.
We headed south along the Sea of Cortez on a beautifully paved section of highway. One section was full of Vados: Dips constructed to relieve water run-off. These woopty doos got your attention as you went down into one and saw all the scrapes in the pavement from surprised car and trailer drivers..... And then shot out of one, sometimes with the front tire in the air, sometimes the whole bike!
The desert scenery was beautiful. Mountains framed the west of us, and cactus dotted the entire area. The Sea of Cortez traveled with us the entire way on the east. The road, which they were constructing, could not have been in better condition, with almost no traffic. Then, it abruptly came to an end, and the gravel, sand and rocks started.
The light again was going away from us, so we needed to hustle throught the desert and a mountain pass to get to the paved road by dusk. Three nights out on the road, and three nights coming in after dark. Yup, Scouting Trip! The sharp rocks and steep inclines of the last mountain pass at sunset was challenging and fun, but it was a relief to be back on the pavement by time light was fading.
Back on the paved highway, the colors of the desert horizon were amazing, Dark blue turned gradually into bright pink in a 360 degree extravaganza. The rare Cirios Cactus silloetted against the waining sunlight, making for an exotic desert feast for the eyes. The temperature was just on the cool side, and the air was clean.
We pulled into our hotel about 45 minutes after sunset. We had had a long day, but everyone was safe and settled in. There was no restaurant at our hotel and we were located some way out of town. The owner gladly ran into town and ordered food and brought back beer for us. We started a fire right on the beach, to the sound of waves lapping the shore. The stars shown fiercely in the sky. Laughter started and never stopped amongst the group.
Dinner arrived and we were called into the main dining hall. Fresh fish and carne asada, rice, beans and of course the ubiquitous tortillas. A great meal to finish an truly adventurous day.
After dinner, we all went back to the fire and the sound of the ocean mixed with the "Bench Racing" stories under the canopy of stars was quite a scene. It was day three and these adventurers were now in stride. We were deep in Mexico, and you could feel the change of pace, the feeling of tranquility. The stories went on and on into the night until, gradually, there were no more people around the fire.
It would be a late start the following day, and after such demanding days of riding, we were all looking forward to a rest. The only thing to schedule would be the sunrise the next morning over the Sea of Cortez.
Day 4
Bahia de Los Angeles
We had a short day of only 150 paved miles, so we decided to take it easy in the morning and not clutch out until 11am. I woke early to catch the sunrise over the sea. I walked out to the beach and sat at a little bungalow right on the water and watched the sky turn from dark black to bright blue for the next hour. Oranges, yellows and reds joined the celebration throughout.
We ate a hearty breakfast of bread, coffee, eggs and frijoles. Some wrenched on bikes and some took walks on the beach. At 10:30, everyone was pretty much restless, so we decided to take off.
We climbed out of the Bahia de los Angeles through curves of cactus. The sun at our backs and we could enjoy all the desert scenes we missed on the way in. This dry, parched place was full of life and held its own type of beauty. The sky was again clear, the temperature about 70F.
Much of the highway after a time turned straight, but the desert views were still astounding. We stopped in the salt town of Guerrero Negro for lunch at a place Lynn knew about. Fresh fish and great chips and salsa: it was refreshing to actually sit down to a relaxed meal! Usually, we were just trying to keep from getting in after the dark!
We motored on to San Ignacio. This oasis of a town was first settled in the 1700's by the Spanish, who constructed a Mission there. The town is littered with palm trees and has standing open water - something we had not seen for days. There was a feeling there in the town square of contentment, peace.
The place we had booked was through a friend of a friend and was a camp ground/yurt complex. It was located on the edge of a lagoon, under a canopy of palm trees. The yurts and cabins were spaced out and featured wonderful beds and were clean. Terry, our host, was an ex pat from Canada and had been running this place for the past 12 years. Though the bathrooms were common and it was not the fanciest of places, the rooms were extremely clean and her hospitality was world class. There was a refrigerator full of drinks where the billing was on the honor system. She had an impressive fish, potato and green bean buffet laid out for us that evening.
We sat underneath the palm trees in our shorts and t shirts and enjoyed a home cooked meal and laughter...the story machine had started again and there were no signs of it stopping.
We drifted off one at a time for bed. Some stayed up late, and you could hear their laughter flutter through the palms.
Day 5
San Ignacio
Terry fixed us a hearty egg/bacon/sausage/fresh bread breakfast as we sampled her home made marmalades. Coffee was flowing early this morning as we had to make 400 miles to La Paz. After breakfast, the sky was turning light, and the group broke up into small touring teams and left sporatically.
At first, the temperature was very cool, even colder than Alaska in the summer! The sun was just rising and we were headed straight for it. Much of the time, I had to keep my hand up to block its blinding rays. The smell of the air was marvelous: clean and crisp!
We hit the coast of the Sea of Cortez, and headed south. Our first stop was in the town of Rosario and a church made by Eiffel himself, that had been at the World Fair in Europe in the 1880, and transported here and reconstructed, piece by piece.
We rode through the town and then continued down the coast.
This part of the road was some of the best we had ridden the entire time. Curve after curve for over an hour as we sped south along the Cortez's puddle. Traffic was light and the road was in great condition. At times, you had vistas of white, sandy beaches, clear sea water and islands scattered in the distance. These places beckoned you to stay just a little longer. I was not prepared for such pretty vistas on the Baja.
We lunched at the town of Constitucion. It was no more than a taco shop off to the side of the busy main road, but the food was considered by most to be some of the best of the trip. It seemed everywhere we went, the food was fresh and flavorful. And they nailed the salsa every time!
We motored through the straight-aways for the rest of the day and pulled into La Paz before the sunset. Although a long day, we all made good time and were not too taxed for it. The place we had picked out was out of town and sat right on the water. As the sun set through palm trees, we sat poolside and enjoyed margaritas and traded stories.
Day 6
La Paz
We had all day today before having to catch a ferry for Mazatlan. We all needed to go to a bank to pay for the immigration fee and catch lunch. Rain arrived in full force as we rode into town to find a bank. Rivers of water were rushing down through the streets as we made our way through town.
The line at the bank was unbelievable, and we had to wait for a full hour before paying our gringo entrance fee.
We regrouped at the hotel and rode out to the ferry. We had to go through customs and wait an hour for them to print our tickets before being able to board.
Frank was on pins and needles, as he was awaiting paperwork for him to be able to bring his bike onto mainland Mexico. His original bike started blowing oil right before the trip. Sad, since he had taken the time to register it for a temporary vehicle import, and could not bring it. So, in haste, he brought a second bike and had to rush all of the paperwork at the last minute. He had had the paperwork forwarded to the hotel in La Paz, and as of the morning, it still had not arrived. He was working on Plan B as we pulled out of the parking lot.
As we were in line for the ferry, he showed up, saying the paperwork had come in just as we left! Now, the gang was back together again and headed to Mazatlan!
We all reserved births, so we had a bed and toilet for the 14 hours ferry ride.
Day 7
Durango
Across the Sea of Cortez to Mazatlan was smooth riding. The births we had were compact and comfortable. There was a cafeteria which served food and drinks, including beer, during the trip. There was an outdoor area you could peruse and take in the surrounding sea. Everyone commented that they slept the best during this night. Perhaps it was the rock-a-by-baby motion of the water and the dull shaking of the engine?
We docked at 11AM in Mazatlan. The busy port city was full of buildings as far as the eye could see. It took a full hour to unload all of the trailers and trucks and cars before we were allowed off. They had stuck us in the hull of the ferry: hot and humid and smelling of oil and fish.
As we had at least 200 miles of curves ahead of us to Durango, I was itching to get on the road. We assembled the group, and followed John out of the city. He had picked a route that was off the main thoroughfare, and it squirted us onto the main road out of town south just as the city ended. We were on route to the famed "Spine of the Devil" - a road considered to be one of the top ten in the world for motorcycling.
As we climbed toward Durango, it was apparent we were in for quite a ride! We stopped to gas one last time, and then split into smaller groups and headed to Durango. The curves started and never stopped for 100 miles. They were in the midst of constucting a new highway, which we could see along the way: modern tunnels, high suspension bridges...at the cost of billions of dollars. It would take years to build and would be the most expensive road project in the history of Mexico.
The curves were consistent, banked and never ending. The pavement was in European condition. Bob commented, " in North Carolina, the famed "Tail of the Dragon" lasted 11 miles..... this road, was every bit of that, and lasted 100 miles!"
Mexico was thrown at you, though. You had to be weary on each curve, as the long 18 wheelers had to pitch out far into your lane in order to make the curve. Sometimes they would meet each other and one would have to stop and back up. So, each corner was fun, but you had to take it with caution.
We were trying to beat the sunset, so we pressed on. Many of the vistas were spectacular but fleeting. There was a section of road where it traveled along the base of a cliff face...absolutely stunning!
We all pulled into Durango at our Hotel with smiles and high fives. Everyone trailed in by 7PM. Their comments on the road were the same: one of the best roads they had ever ridden.
We dined that night at the hotel under a vaulted ceiling and exquisite chandalliers, and some of us took to the streets after dinner..We walked to a broad pedestrian mall and along the way, we passed about 7 or 8 mariachi bands getting ready for the evening. Whether these bands were going to play at a certain bar or were just for hire, it was hard to tell. But the sure numbers of mariachi bands.....how beautiful.
Durango deserves a second look.
Day 8
Durango - Parrall
We invited an American to join us for dinner the night before, Stephen, who is an avid ADV Rider contributer. He told us of a newly paved road that is not on the maps, on the way to Parrall. So, we took his advice and explored this new road.
It was a great ride: we entered a broad valley full of farms, desert rocks and Mennonites. The new road Stephen told us about was made of poured contrete, and topped the hills all the way back to the main highway. In an hour, we passed only 10 cars.
When we pulled into Parrall, the city was hopping with Christmas cheer. We passed though the center of the city and the main plaza and were overwhelmed with Christmas lights, decorations, and thousands of people. It was Saturday night, and most Mexicans had received their Christmas bonus and were out to shop and enjoy the occasion. We pulled into our hotel and caught up with the rest of the group. Everyone loved that road.
We got word that a bike had gone down and that one of the groups would have to go to "Plan B". Some of them would press on to Parrall that evening, and the rest would stay with the bike and try to arrange a truck to get it to Parrall the next day. Apperently, Bob had hit some loose stuff and collided right into a rock wall. He was fine, but the bike was done.
Day 9
Parrall to ?
We decided to break the group apart. The main group would go with Lynn and make a run at going to the bottom of Copper Canyon and on to Batopilas. I would stay behind and find a way to deal with downed bike.
John, Brian and Bob showed up around 11 AM with the bike in the back of a truck. I talked to the guy with the truck, and asked him if it were possible to arange that the bike get transported north towards the border of the USA. He said he could not do it personally, but his cousin possibly could. After meeting his family, getting fed, negociating a price, transferring the bike to another truck and driving through horrid Christmas traffic, we finally were on the road north. I would split from the group and go with the bike to the town of Nuevas Casas Grandes - a 9 hour drive north. I would give my bike up to Bob, and they would rest there the day (they did not get any sleep the night before) and then they would catch up with the rest of the group in Creel the next evening.
I talked to Kevin, who was running our Long Beach office and told him the circumstances. He agreed to take his truck and another GS1200 south to the border. He would leave the bike on the US side for Bob to ride, and cross with the truck to carry the wounded bike back to the shop. So, now "Plan B" was enveloping into and multinational bike extrication operation!
I jumped into the truck with my driver, Jaime, and we headed north immediately. We drove until dark and arrived in the bustling city of Chihuahua. There, we went to his friends house, and spent the night. I was exausted, and slept deeply on the floor of the living room. I got word from Lynn that the road to Batopilas was closed, and under contruction. They would be staying two nights in Creel until the other group caught up.
The adventure was unfolding....
Day 10
Chihuahua to Nuevas Casas Grandes
I got word that the groups reunited safely. Some took a run at another road to the bottom of the canyon while others just rode to a look out over the canyon. This was turning into a true expedition.
I got up early and drove north with Jaime. By 11AM, we were in Nuevas Casas Grandes. Kevin had just crossed the border with the bike and was headed my way. We unloaded the bike, ate lunch, and bid farewell. Thanks Jaime!
Then, a call came in from Kevin that he could not make it to hotel. The police would not let the motorcycle past the checkpoint. It did not have the temporary vehicle import papers and they were not about to let that go. He reserved to turn around and stay at Janos, a small town just north of the checkpoint. Plan C was now in effect. Within minutes of finding out that the bike would not make it with Kevin, I arranged to be picked up the next morning by a fellow I saw on the street, Reynaldo. He was standing near an automobile service business, and I surmised that if anyone would have the ability to carry a motorcycle....
I asked that he come by at 8 am. He looked at me and said, "Mexicans don't get up that early..." So we bargained on 9.
That evening, I got a fitful sleep. It had been a long haul on the road.
Day 11
Nuevas Casas Grandes to Janos
I got word from the group they were all doing fine and headed to Nuevas Casas Grandes. I packed my stuff and the van showed up with Reynaldo and his pilot, Mauricio. We took some time loading the beast of a 1200 GS into the van and rambled down the road. It was but an hour long ride and soon, we were in a courtyard of a chicken hotel with Kevin. We unloaded one GS for another, bid farewell to my new Mexican friends, and Kevin and I caught up for just a few minutes before he headed back to Long Beach.
Since I did not have the proper paperwork for the bike and the was a police check point between me and where the group would arrive that evening, I opted to take a room for $15 and hang my hat. I spent the day catching up on work, took a hike to the tallest hill in town and generally relaxed.
Word came in that the group had arrived in Nuevas Casas Grandes and that they were back to "Bench Racing" at the bar. Good to hear that they were all safe and sound!
Tomorrow, the plan is to wait for them along the side of the road until they breeze by and get in line. We will be heading to Arizona. Goodbye, Tacos!
Day 12
Janos, Mexico to Oracal, AZ
I got a text from John that the group was ready to ride. They were 50 Kilometer south of me. I finished breakfast, packed my bike and headed out of town south to meet the group. Within minutes they came streaming by, all waves. We all gathered in town and there was a round of handshakes and fistbumping. It was good to be with the group again, and I said "It's good to be speaking English again!"
The wind was fierce and reminded me of southern Patagonia. It must have been ripping by at 50 miles an hour, and you had to lean into it to stay on the road. The temperature started plummet and passing the big trucks was a challenge. It seemed every day, no matter how straight forward the ride was, there was alway a set of challenges.
As we climbed over a pass in the desert it started to snow. Great, I thought, we are in the desert and it is of course snowing. We stopped briefly to put on extra layers. A truck stopped to warn us that the snow was sticking on the road. Some of the riders were apprehensive, but it was at least worth a look to see how bad it was. If it was not sand it was trucks. If it was not trucks it was potholes. If not potholes, snow. Mexico was an accomplished challenge. We crested the pass and the snow was constant but not really sticking on the road surface. The temperature plummeted. The group pushed on. We ended up at lowered elevations with no snow and pressed on, though the wind remained cold.
We pulled into Agua Prieta and went to the border. There, we had to check in at the Banjercito, the folks that had issued us our Temporary Vehicle Import stickers. There, they scanned them and stamped our passports at immigration. Now, we were all set up to go back to the USA. We pulled into a long line of cars and moved through the border control. All of us went through without incident except the Canadian, who was pulled aside and searched.
We found a restaurant, ate lunch and bid farewell to some of the members. Little by little, riders were tearing off, and heading back home. We had already lost Brian in Mexico. Now, four more were headed back to LA.
We continued north through the Arizona desert. The temperature remained chilly. We passed through the old mining town of Bisbee and the old west town of Tombstone. In Benson, we decided to split apart into two groups, one on paved and the other on a dirt route to our accommodations. I chose to go with the dirt gang and it was a magical ride. The night colors came on, with hues of violets and pinks and the red rocks of the distant mountains and looming cacti, made for a magical desert scene. The dirt road was in great condition and the group loved the solitude and the scenery. We pulled into the Ranch Style retreat just minutes before the other group. The temperature hung around the freezing point. We checked into our warm cabins and in each one there was a fire all set up to start!
We gathered around the dinner table that evening and enjoyed an enormous buffet of very good food. Laughter again reigned, and it was good to be back in the good ol security of the US of A.
After dinner, we went to the conference center and I set up the flat screen television to show the movie I had been filming the entire trip. We all mixed a cocktail and sat down to watch. It was fun to see us ride Mexico...some of the memories seemed so distant, yet they had just happened!
Day 13
The temperature still clung to the freezing point as I crunched through some snow on the way to breakfast. The sky was blue, and the sun was out, but that was it for a show of heat.
After breakfast, we loaded our bikes and headed out. We would split again into two groups: one taking the most direct highway way, and another picking their way through the mountains.
I was with the group that would take the longer route. We headed out due north and Arizona shown with all her beauty. A long paved highway spread out in front of us with no traffic. Cactus lined the road on both sides. The road lead through small canyons, through open country and past large lakes. The solitude was enticing. The space was endless. I could see why people fell in love with this part of the world.
We approached a mountain range and decided to take the twistiest road option. We climbed into the mountains and stopped for lunch in the little copper mining town of Jerome. There, we contemplated going further, as there were icy patches in the shadows. Daunting.
The road was incredibly twisty as we climbed up and over the range. The icy patches were sporadic, but not too bad. What would a day without adrenaline be?
After a long last stretch on a flat highway, fighting against a blinding sunset, we finally pulled in to Bullhead City. Right across the river from where we stayed was the mini Vegas of Laughlin. Flashing lights versus small country inn. ...we opted to take taxis to a Casino to have dinner.
Day 14
Cutting Across Desert
We picked the most direct route we could for the final push home. It was sad, really, because the reality was this trip was coming to an end. Big flat split highway into the horizon. We just kept at it until we hit LA traffic. After the lonely roads of Mexico, this was quite a culture awakening: 16 lanes of traffic. Entire cities on the move. There was nothing like the highway traffic in LA.
We finally pulled into our shop in Long Beach. Smiles and hand shakes went around. We had ridden Mexico! Such a good group of enthusiastic riders! It was good to be home, but I was already missing the lawlessnes of Mexico.
That night we had dinner at an elegant Italian Restaurant in downtown Long Beach. Opera, Italian wine, and stories of Mexico. Dave brought his wife and son to join us and there we were, a much smaller group than had originally sat down to a welcome dinner a fortnight ago. All smiles and full of new adventurous stories - enough to keep friends and family busy until the next time.
Mexico? There is a distinct culture shift the minute you cross the border. The time seems to slow. Some laws become less important, some more. The sun was warm. There are roads down there that are just unbelievable, and a vibrant feeling you get from the locals. Ah.....Mexico. Those beaches and those winding roads are calling again already....