“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – M Oliver
Today is a gorgeous Thursday morning in Creel and we are in a new time Zone; it’s cold outside and my BMW GSA 1250 is running great. We stayed last night and we are staying in one of the nicest lodges in all of Creel. The scenery outside the lodge area is rather touristy as souvenirs, gift shops and locals in their native costumes adorn the sidewalks. No shop around carries at least one bumper sticker to add to my top case sticker collection of my travels.
Today our next lodging is only 32 miles away. I guess you could call this a down or zero day.
So, what shall we do all day today when there’s no roads that need to be ridden. Body maintenance. Yesterday I got a hot rock massage and so did several others. The lodge has a great spa. We also do motorcycle maintenance, soon Todd will be spraying his chain while Larry checks his tires and Luis begins to detail his BMW 850 again to near showroom perfection.
We all look at each other’s motorcycles even closer. Yoda Roberto made a comment that David’s Triumph motorcycle rear tire will not make it to Baja. His front rim is also slightly bent. Some of the perils of the roads. Speaking of perils Luis and Larry witnessed a pickup truck in which two Mexican occupants spontaneously left the road and tumbled down the embankment before coming to a stop on the roof of the truck.
Luis was the first to arrive on scene and witness the Mexican raccoon eyed driver. After verifying that they were not injured he extracted each one before proceeding on. Such is life.
Today we’re on autopilot. A well oiled machine of twelve riders; scratch that eleven. Ray, aka Dakar to Paris shock man rode all the way back to Phoenix yesterday- that’s over 600 iron butt miles of motorcycle riding traveling. If you’re not familiar with his story- his shock exploded when he hit a huge pothole. Like in the amazing race in which teams of two people race around the world in competition with other teams; only in this race we are supposed to make it around on a fully rideable motorcycle. We have a pitcher of margaritas riding on whether he makes it back to us or not. And like in the amazing race we also navigate in foreign areas, we interact with the locals, eat their foods and even get our laundry done by them.
Ok, ok, just one more. And like in the amazing race you are progressively eliminated for being the last person to arrive each day. NO “I SURVIVED” STICKER FOR YOU.
Last night we had dinner at Veronicas. One of our favorite places to eat. The best local dishes are served there. “Guacamole, we said?” Soon the avocados were being hand ground in a lava-rock mortar and pestle back in the kitchen. I could easily imagine their smooth, creamy green texture. Paul, David and I devoured an entire soccer bowl sized mortar of avocado and chips before the others arrived.
Several days ago I made the mention that this place (Rocky Point- aka Puerto Penasco was a place without Mexican culture. Any place thereafter that we have traveled to on this amazing race is extremely cultural and worthy of visiting. For heavens sake, yes, I know this is Mexico, but, some near border towns don’t qualify.
And is it also correct for me to judge an entire country based on a few extreme incidents? Mexico has 31 distinct states. All of them have their own distinct cultural practices and traditions. Americans rarely visit more than two of the 31 states yet many consider themselves well versed into telling the rest of us their opinions about traveling to Mexico.
Did you know that food from states like the Yucatán, Chihuahua, Chiapas, and Nayarit is about as different as those of say France, Germany, Britain, and Slovenia?
Hopefully this little story of our time riding in Mexico will shed a little light on your past, present and future Mexico travel perceptions.
We are here now on the gondola riding back up after doing 7 zip lines in the Barrancas Del Cobre.