We spent last night in Muleje in a beautiful resort right by the river. I never thought of Mulege as beautiful until today. Earlier Joey, Sammy, Tom and I toured the nearby mission grounds. We gave Sammy from Massachusetts a real life mission tour. So far he’s visited three missions on this ride. I also got to ring the church bells located outside of the church; the mission was locked. We skedaddled out of the area before the entire town parish of Mulege began arriving.
Last night my roommate Joe walked into our assigned room in Bahia Los Angeles, I saw his jaw drop when he saw first saw the room I earlier described to him. He exclaimed, “I’m a Titanium Club Hotel Member and tonight I stay in this?
The room wasn’t really so bad. Our grandkids bed looks larger by comparison and so does the entire room. But, that’s where the comparison stops. The mosquitoes congregated in one corner and came out only to bite when we were nearly asleep. The earliest four blade fan spun erratically up high humming it’s own version of mechanical wizardtry.
The toilet in the room felt like it was made for a Mexican ass of the 1950’s ; entirety too small for an American ass to sit on. And if you stop and lay yourself in the middle of your little bed, it feels just like a donkey or small farm animal crushed the little beds spine or bed frame around the mid 1900s. We lucked out; thank you Gregg; apparently some rooms even had a small fold out couch for a third rider to sleep on. Bahia Los Angeles is now a town where you wouldn’t want to wake up in every day of the year. A few days, get in and then get out quickly.
If you haven’t yet figured it out; we can’t blame ourselves when bad things happen here in Baja; it’s because things are always in the hands of the Mexican unseen, and those uncontrollable spirits.
Yoda Marco unfortunately went down yesterday on his BMW 1200 GSA motorcycle. Apparently he hit a rock, of which there’s always plenty, on a Baja rock road; then he over corrected just enough to the other side for a quick recovery, when just like that, the spirits said, not today sucker, this is not your day; and placed another rock, even larger this time on the opposite side.
That’s how he then managed to catapult himself up and over and come right down on that collarbone not meant to support your weight and the weight of a BMW GS 1200. Instant broke collarbone. Marco then, like the Mexican superhero Yoda that we all see him to be, then picks up his own bike and rides it for something like 30 miles, all the way muttering something about how lucky he is to live in Baja riding and testing Gpskevin’s blue route. I think he was already in shock by now.
And now I remember: It was early morning in the town of San Quintin, in the lovely Jardin hotel gardens, we were all huddled around our motorcycles when Joey walks over and looked to be in pain.
Marco declared; though shall not have to live in pain. Do something about it! This must’ve stirred the spirits. On another Baja ride, early on Joey managed to put his foot, boot and toe through a Mexican guardrail. And then Brian started chiming in about “pain” as he also experienced recently cracked ribs on account of another fall. And then I said; you want to know pain? Yoda Roberto can tell you all about pain. The whole place suddenly went quiet. It’s about the same time that the fog quickly began to roll in. We all wish him a speedy recovery on account of those not one but, two broken thumbs. Ouch. And now for the fun side of riding.
The coyotes crossing the road today could’ve easily taken anyone of us out. I think I counted seven. Joey said he never looks down at the speed when he passes. I did. It was 112 mph US on that last pass and we’re now cruising at around 80 mph. Must be a lucky number because Sammy said, at that last piss stop, I hadn’t seen any, until Joey pointed out not just one but two.
At dinner tonight Joey stiff us (Todd) with the bill, a first as he usually (almost always) pays for the entire table. That’s real karma in action.
We rode and we rode and we rode. Today was a 325 mile day. That is what you do on a motorcycle in Baja. We advanced from one Mexican town to the other. Our life’s goal was to arrive in San Ignacio (cross that) Muleje in one piece.
And we did or rather most of us did (sorry Marco) maybe that dead cat this morning at coffee jinxed you. And obviously I’m still here or else you wouldn’t be reading this because I bought and paid for some road karma.
Road karma is our secret insurance policy, only now you all know about it. It’s when you do something like ask the waitress to put that young Mexican Harley riders bill on your bill; that Joey now pays. The young Mexican rider was so appreciative that he walked over with near tears in those green eyes and attempted to put his arms around the entire body of Joey. He then shakes everyone’s hands.
Allot has happened today like breakfast of crabmeat and machaca but, I will end it here and start a new day blog later.
Part III to follow.
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