"Bienvenidos Mexico!"

As I rode into Agua Prieta it was like I`d somehow found the missing portal to another world! The difference was extreme. I`d stumbled upon the real “Wild West”. Wild, stray dogs roamed the streets, cars that wouldn`t have been out of place in a British Banger race, kicked up clouds of dust. Groups of locals eyed me with suspicion or curiosity. All that was missing was tumbleweed blowing across the road. I felt like a latter day “Pale Rider”, but without the machismo. Unlike Clint, I wasn’t` gently sauntering through town, I was actually riding as quickly as I legally could to find my way out of town and on to the right road south, cursing the GPS as it struggled to orientate itself (I think it was in shock too!).

Eventually, the GPS got its act together and I headed south on the road to Moctezuma. Then followed a physically uneventful, but mentally, paranoia filled 3 hr ride. As it turned out, I had plenty of company on the road. My old friends, fear, apprehension and anxiety decided to join me for the whole trip. My head was still filled with storied of shootings, robberies, kidnappings, etc. The road was eerily quiet for most of the way, and every car or pick up truck that came into view in my mirrors was obviously following me for nefarious reasons. Each time a car passed me and sped into the distance I must admit to breathing sigh of relief. All was going well for about an hour when I passed a very beat up car parked by the side of the road. It had obviously seen much better days. The windscreen had a huge crack(clearly from a bullet) right across it. Thinking nothing of it I rode on. Several minutes later, I saw the same car in my rear view mirrors approaching fast. The road was a winding and narrow making passing difficult, so after being “followed” for several miles I slowed and waved the car on, but he slowed too and continued to follow close behind. My paranoia was having the time of its life! I accelerated and so did he. This cat and mouse game went on for another few miles with my adrenaline levels at an all time high and mind racing through possible scenarios.( It`s at times like this, that sipping a beer, back in my club in Olney seems a much better option).

Eventually the car passed me, accelerating dramatically and then proceeded to veer across the centre line, driving very erratically, and disappeared into the distance never to be seen again.

After my adrenaline levels and heart rate had returned to some kind of normality, I then began to notice the actual scenery I was riding through. Mexico is a surprise in many respects. Rather than the dust and arid landscaped I was expecting, I found lush, verdant rolling hills and many places reminiscent of Scotland.

As I rode through my first small town/village, I was caught out by the “topes”. I`d read about these beforehand and completely forgotten them. To you and me, they are Mexican versions of “Sleeping Policeman”. Speed bumps of a very vicious variety that are at the entry and exit pin of every inhabited area. I hit the brakes hard at the last minute and just managed to slow enough to save my suspension. Cursing my lack of concentration, I crawled through the town remembering the Police love to catch anyone (especially Gringos breaking the speed limit) where they can then extract the “Mordida”, an on the spot fine/bribe.

This kind of riding is extremely tiring. You`re senses are operating on high alert all the time. My next challenge would be the Police/military checkpoints, and sure enough, 30 minutes later I was flagged down. I was asked for my papers, driving licence, where I was headed, what for, etc.

“Voy a Moctezuma!” trying to practice my Spanish. When I discovered he understood a little English, I asked if the road was safe,

Mas o menos” (more or less), he shrugged, but “be careful”.

“Si, gracias... adios!”




I reached Moctezuma by early afternoon. I wasn`t really sure what to expect, but Beverly Hills it certainly wasn`t! I suppose it could be described as a typical small Mexican town, noticeably devoid of Gringos. Trying to find a cheap hotel that had been recommended I was riding around slowly, unavoidably attracting attention to myself. Remembering a piece of advice to head for the main Plaza if you`re lost, I pulled up in the town square and stared at my basic map wondering what to do next. In less than a minute a local asked me where I wanted to go,

“Puede decir mi donde esta Hotel San Antonio, por favor?”

Not bad, I thought, and he understood! I wish I could say the same about his rather long response! The town wasn`t that big so I eventually found my first hotel in Mexico. It seemed deserted and locked, but after ringing the bell a few times Jesus appeared. No, it wasn`t a vision. It was the owner. Here we go again,

“Tiene un habitacion para esta noche, por favor?”

“Yes!” It seemed Jesus could speak good English!

As you can imagine, the hotel was basic, but perfectly acceptable and “muy importante” it had wifi! After my usual ritual sorting the bike I went on a recce of the town looking for an ATM and some food. Finding both, I headed back armed to my hotel with my “food” – bananas and water!(my paranoia extends to what I can eat and drink too!)

So this was real, small town Mexico, off the tourist route. It certainly felt like it as I walked around that evening. Not surprisingly, everyone stared at the only Gringo in town. Desperate for some “proper”food, I asked Jesus and he directed me to a pizzeria! So pizza and beers it was. Strangely enough, I never have any problem ordering beer wherever I am.

Hermasillo

That night I looked at my map, and having no real idea where to head for I decided on a bigger city, basically, something that looked and felt a bit more like civilisation! Hermasillos was a modern city, several hours ride south west of Moctezuma. As I neared the outskirts, the temperature rose markedly, and by the time I found a hotel it was already 100º with high humidity. Stepping into what seemed like air conditioned luxury compared to the night before, I thought I might stay a couple of days to recover from the long ride and early mornings I`d been having recently. It would also give me time to do some “work” on the bike. But first things first, I needed to go out (“Mad dogs and Englishmen.....!”) because I`d spotted a coffee shop on my ride in and was desperate for a decent cappuchino! Mexico isn`t noted for its coffee, but it wasn`t too bad!

It`s interesting what you miss on a trip like this, good coffee, chocolate, good wine, fruit and vegetables and of course, being English, I could murder a cup of tea!

My bike was parked securely in a sheltered car park out of the sun, so I thought I would be brave and change the front brake pads for the first time since Tony (in England) and Bill had shown me how simple it is. Bill had noticed how the pads seemed to be wearing unevenly so had told me to keep an eye on them. Now seemed to be a good time to do it. While I was busy sweating over the simple job I noticed the pistons were moving unequally and one seemed to be stuck, so having done the job and feeling quite proud of myself I decided to skype Bill and see what he thought. He had just installed skype but didn`t have a web cam or sound so we communicated by instant messaging. To cut a long story short I spent the next few hours running up and down the three floors to the car park trying various strategies to resolve the problem and in the meantime, unbeknown to me, the Hermasillo mosquitos ( 633 Squadron) were having a feast day on my exposed Gringo flesh. I`d forgotten about the little b******s and only thought they appeared at dusk. Clearly not. After much placing, removing brake fluid, squeezing, sweating and test riding it was decided to just keep an eye on them and see how it went.

After an all too brief respite, the next day saw me up at dawn and heading off for the little town of YECORA heading inland and to higher ground. A 5 hr ride through many twisty, switchback roads brought me into an even smaller town than Moctezuma, although, I still had to ask directions to the hotel! Compared to the previous night it was basic to say the least.

Hotel Las Brisas was run a by a friendly owner who spoke no English so we had an interesting conversation about restaurants and wifi connections. Eventually, He directed me to an internet cafe (well, just a little shop that had a couple of old computers at the back) and we arranged that he would drive me the small distance to a restaurant in the plaza that night! For some reason, the internet connection in the shop was intermittent and the signal kept dropping.

There then followed another test of attitude. I`d noticed during the journey, just how important the internet is to me as a way of staying in touch, and how much of a morale booster it is to me, particularly as a solo rider. Without it, it would be easy to feel pretty much alone. Out of sight, out of mind. The truth is of course, the whole journey is, has been, and always was going to be a huge test of attitude, given my lack of experience in everything I am attempting. There are times when I have real doubts and serious questions, and it`s at times like these I have to keep reminding myself why I chose to do this, and I think it can be summed up perfectly in a quote my son Dan sent me recently,

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain.

Anyway, enough introspection, where was I?



So at 7.00 p.m. that night I was driven the short distance to the restaurant he recommended. It was actually someone `s front room with a few tables in it! With no menu except what was in her fridge, I was a bit stuck as to what to order. Of course, enchiladas! Staple food, everyone cooks them. So with my order placed I said,

“Puedo tener una cerveza por favor”

No, they didn`t have any beer! This was getting serious, but the night was saved when my driver indicated he would go to a nearby shop and get me one or two!

“Dos, por favor!” Well, I was thirsty! When I drained my last beer, my driver suddenly appeared and said,

“Vamos?”

“Si, gracias”

And so we “vamosed” back to the hotel and I thanked him for his help and went to bed early (again) ready for a dawn ride to CREEL up in the mountains. I`d read about Creel as a stopping off point for Copper Canyon, one of the major geographical sights of Mexico, so I thought I couldn`t come this close and not see it. An exhausting 6 hour ride to cover 150 miles along very windy, twisty roads brought me into Creel at about midday. I found a hotel on one of the main streets and noticed when I checked in that there was no air conditioning and no fan, just a gas fire! That night I quickly realised that at 7,500 ft. you don`t need air con and it was refreshingly cool. I was too exhausted to see the canyon when I arrived even though it was only 30 miles away. My body needed rest, beer and half a BBQ chicken, which was conveniently found just down the road at “Mr. Pollos” at a special cheap rate!

The following day, noticing dark and threatening storm clouds above I set off in the morning for a trip to the Canyon. For something so big, it was surprisingly difficult to find the vista point, until I found later that I had just ridden straight past it. It was indeed huge and at the same time for some reason not as awe inspiring as my first sight of the Grand Canyon. I savoured the environment for a while and then felt decidedly hungry, so I headed back for the other half of the chicken. After sating my hunger at “Mr. Pollos” (we were now amigos), I planned my route for the next day and opted to head for HIDALGO DEL PARRAL which would be another 5 hr stretch. At 5.00 a.m. the next day I got up, packed the bike and set off just as the sun rose for more winding and twisting riding. God just give me a straight road for a change!