Today is a 213 mile ride day We came over the mountains to a place called Ciudad Constitution. We’re now closer to the Pacific Ocean than the sea of Cortez. There’s just something special about the atmosphere in Baja. This is our third day of riding paradise and the roads and scenery now are of the calm and serene Sea of Cortez. At times the sky, land and sea competes for one’s attention. Today the off shore islands made an appearance. You can even see the cactus on the islands. The sky is this clear. The sea is calm and there’s no wind blowing so the air is fresh and clean with the occasional burning trash smell thrown in. Monday must be burning garbage day. The roads now roll right through volcanic looking rock and untouched desert scenery beauty.

The open air seating, the simple decor, bright colors, perfect climate, friendly faces, cheap prices; on and off world class roads and delicious and tasty meals and margaritas. This is what we came for. Today I rode for me and worked on perfecting my left side lean on a turn. Yesterday I followed Roberto and Joey. I’m on an ultimate riding machine. Roberto is on a 700 cc Honda with 50/50 tires and Joey is on a smaller KTM dirt bike and they are moving like their tires are glued to the road. They pull away quickly on turns and on the straight away I catch up to them. There’s no way I’ll live long enough to be nearly half as good as either one but, today I felt like I improved on my turns.

Our Hotel Industrial in Santa Rosalia did not deliver for me like the other two previous hotels did. The place opened up about the same time as the copper mine nearby, about two hundred years ago. When I opened our room door it smelled musty kind of like dirty socks, rotting wood or a long forgotten miner sealed up in the walls. I can almost imagine the reservations call from Yoda Jane or Roberto. You want to reserve rooms for stinky bikers? Well all I’ve got is stinky rooms.

The bees are attacking my parked motorcycle and the flies are going after my menudo. Menudo to me is the Mexican version of Vietnamese pho but, without the noodles.

On the road today I met my third group of Mexican motorcycle riders. This group of eight are from Morelos. That’s Mexico City for those not familiar. The other group was from Chihuahua and the two riders are from Michoacan.