Water and Sand in the Mexican Desert

Jay was ready nearly an hour ahead of everyone else, and he stood around drumming his fingers as the rest of us loaded up. Alex and Gary were the stewards of the two satellite antennae, a metal helix encased in a three-foot long PVC-type tube. Alex found a pimple on his and while attempting to pop it, snapped the antenna in two. Fortunately, the helix inside was unbroken. Under Toby's guidance, we made a splint from a toilet paper tube and gaffer's tape and hoped that it would only take a little while to heal. Actually, with the metal intact, it should still work. Gary's was developing an acne problem of its own, but he promised to be careful.

Toby bid us a fond farewell, as he had to be back at work. He wanted more than anything to just keep going with us, but the only gear he had were the clothes on his back and a blanket rolled up on his backseat. We promised that if there was ever another Riding to the Moon ride, he'd be invited to come along. There were hugs and handshakes and photos, and we drove off in separate directions.

Keep Your Eyes on the Road!
The relatively few miles of the previous day inspired us to ride hard and put some distance between us and the U.S. border. The road to Sonoita went quickly and we stopped for some of the best chili rellenos we've ever had at a small cozy restaurant. A gas fill-up and more miles to Puerto Penasco had us back in the mid-day heat. Most of northern Mexico is arid desert, flat and boring. There are always mountains in the distance and saguaro cacti waving to us from the side of the road. Why are the mountains always in the distance without ever getting closer?

In Puerto Penasco, we saw water for the first time since before San Diego. It was the Gulf of California, an inviting azure blue but too cold and rocky for a dip. We stripped down to our skivvies for some light exercise (we are such a healthy bunch) and relaxation in the warm sunshine. We edged upon hammering out a few issues between us involving road etiquette but were unable to get too deep into it. Again, we hope that more miles under our tires will help work things out. We ducked into a grocery store for food and rode off away from the setting sun to a campsite down the road.

Then all hell broke loose. We found a dirt/sand turnoff to the beach from the main road. With David in the lead, the team made its first "off-road" ride. The first three riders successfully finished the Baja 1/4, but first Jim then Alex wound up face first in the dirt. Under Jay's expert tutelage, they remounted, Alex fell again, as did Jay in some particularly nasty muck, but eventually we all made it to the beach. Sort of.

The oyster traps lying on the smooth flat sand were our first clue that something was amiss. Two near-by oyster farmers informed us that our perfect camping spot would soon be covered in water. Alex's bike fell again by itself, and David made a spectacular diving save to keep Jim's bike up. Positive that some sand-dwelling beast was trying to suck our motorcycles into its maw and not wanting to be swimming and sleeping at the same time, we successfully and without incident backtracked halfway to the main road, found a good (and dry) spot and pitched camp.

Evening Under the Stars

We set up the tents and cranked up the stove as an amazing sunset threw spectacular colors across the huge sky. In no time, the stars appeared, and while eating our quesadillas and pasta, we marvelled at the expansive white band across the ebony heavens known as the Milky Way. Except for the Canadian, we big-city dwellers couldn't keep from looking up. The raw onions from dinner lulled us into a stupor and at 8:00 pm, we were zonked. During the night, a pack of local dogs from the run-down pueblito down the road came sniffing around, but the onions (and their aftermath) kept them away.

Miles - 225

Sunrise at Puerto Penasco
Dreams of another four years of Clinton bolted us awake at 6:00 am. That and the rooster on a rusting tin roof at the pueblito. Before we even removed ourselves from our warm North Face sleeping bags (thank you, NF), we knew the sunrise would be inspiring. We poked our heads out for a preliminary look, like dipping our toes into the pool, and found the impending day cold but inviting. The bikes sat silhouetted (and still upright thanks to some plastic bottles under our kickstands) against the morning sky. Just as colorful as the sunset, we yanked the cameras out for a flurry of photos. Packing went quickly, almost as fast as Jay this time. Of course, he'd had over a week of practice on his way down from Canada to Los Angeles. We carefully drove our way out of the sandtrap. More desert miles lay before us, and bundled up against the chill desert wind, we weaved our way to Caborca.

The Boys of Caborca

As usual, PEMEX (the only gas company in all of Mexico) was the first building into town and our first stop. Food came next, burritos con carne and Nescafe, and then a rush back to PEMEX for the restroom. (Actually, all of our intestinal tracts were still in good working order.) Alex and Gary went further into town to change money, and Alex's traveller's checks were taken hostage by a slow-moving bank employee. Gary waited nervously in the parking lot, and the others even more so at the gas station fending off begging children. When Alex and Gary finally made it back money in hand, the children had won over the bikers and Polaroids and chewing gum were exchanged.

Itching to put in a full day of riding after this 3-hour stop-over in Caborca, we ran to the baño one last time armed with our personal supply of toilet paper, said good bye to the niños, and rode off through the biggest town since Mexicali. The highway really opened up on the way to Hermosillo, especially for Jay and David who saw the conditions right for some major speed. Alex, on the other hand, who seems to enjoy a more pastoral speed, opted for the picturesque pace through the (monotonous) desert. Gary and Jim hung back with Alex in order that no rider be alone.

Speed, so far, had been a point of contention among us all. With the weather favorable and the roads flat and straight and mind-numbingly boring, nearly hallucinogenic, we felt we had the chance to cover some big territory. Later in the trip, when weather and road conditions become problematic, we might find ourselves not getting very far at any speed. But we were also debating the merits of speed versus a slower steady pace, trading longer hours on the bike at a less bone-jarring pace for fewer hours on the bike with more time for stops.

Hermosillo, a bustling colonial town of nearly 1 million people and the capital of Sonora, welcomed us warmly. We actually made it into town with the sun still high in the sky, and spent an hour finding a decent hotel with secure parking. Alex and Gary went off on the search in the sweltering heat while the rest chatted up the locals and ate popsicles and corn soup at a friendly corner store. We eventually found the Hotel San Andres, and after Alex set them up and David knocked them down to a very affordable $8 a person, we unloaded into our luxurious 16x20 room, complete with a Mister Coffee by the sink. A luke-warm shower refreshed us all (although the stench lingered in the dirty clothes drying in the open window).

We wandered out into the embracing coolness of evening in search of dinner. Where once the streets were a bee-hive of activity, packed like the streets of Bombay (not that any of us have been there but we hear it's crowded), the lonely click and chatter from the police bicycles and the grating sound of shopkeeper's pulling down their metal doors were all that remained. We ignored the street-vendors' pleas and went Chinese instead. Not bad, actually, except for the won-ton soup with one-ton of pepper in each bowl. On the walk back, Jim and Gary bought $5 sneakers, we stopped off at the same corner store for more popsicles, corn soup and fruit cocktail, and finally descended upon the hotel to prepare for bed. Dragging Jim out to the parking lot for another stab at the internet, we successfully uploaded our first update (days 1 and 2) though failed on the pictures. E-mail was also hit and miss, but we felt we were on the right track!!

Miles - 250

Sorry to keep mentioning it, but if you haven't made your contribution yet, any time now is good. Thanks, all.

(This revised page was sent from the Universidad Autonoma de Sinaloa. Thank you to Guadalupe Gonzalez.)