Entry into Mexico

Sorry about the lack of updates, but as you'll see we've been off the grid for a few days.

As part of our plan, we entered Mexico in the early morning hours of 27-Dec. in Agua Prieta, across from Douglas, and was it cold!!!!

We received more scrutiny from the US Border Patrol than the Mexican Border Guards.  The US guys wanted to know whether we had any drugs, weapons, more than $10,000 in cash and any RPGs.  Of course we had none of that.  The Mexican guard asked Curtis where we were going (he just said Mazatlan) and waived him through.  I couldn't hear what was said, and he asked me the same and I kind of laughed and said "Creel, Batopilas, El Fuerte, Mazatlan, Durango, Zacatecas, Guanajuanto, San Miguel de Allende, Real de Catorce, Saltillo, and finally, out at Eagle Pass, Texas."  He smiled and asked to inspect one of my panniers.  We stopped to take a picture before we hit the long road to Creel:

The road past Auga Prieta was uneventful, but cold.  We went through a few military checkpoints (i.e., soldiers with automatic weapons and some manning crew fed machine guns, but they just waived us through. We did have to stop for a break though (not the cowboy boot over the buried telephone line marker)!

We had to make our first stop for fuel in Janos, Mexico, and just outside Janos we encountered our first detailed inspection of our papers.  Since everything was in order we quickly proceeded to Nuevo Casa Grande where I changed some American dollars to Mexican Pesos to pay Curtis back for acquiring our panniers and we had lunch:

Since we had a lot of road to cover to get to Creel by nightfall we didn't linger.  As we made our way we saw a lot of interesting sights (but didn't have time to stop and take pictures): cowboys on horseback, harvesting and drying of chili peppers, and numerous roadside vendors.

However fast we went, it just seemed like we were running out of light and as we entered San Juanito it was dark and we experienced firsthand the utter reliance this nation has on wood fuel.  It was smoke filled and dark -- literally as if it were out of Dante's Inferno.  At points I thought the eyes of the people walking along the road were going to glow red like the characters in Batman Begins after Ra's al Ghul released the toxin from Gotham's water supply.  It was other worldly.  We decided staying there was out of the question and proceeded on up to Creel, in the cold, dark night, and finally made it around 7:00 pm, cold, beat and ready to call it a day - 13 hours and 400 miles into our adventure!

Night Ride Across the Desert

The journey began with another hiccup -- a blizzard on the East Coast stymied air travel across the country, resulting in Curtis being 2 hours late out of Nashville, and he did not get into Phoenix until nearly 4:00 pm vs. 2 pm.  He still had to finish installing his bags, repacking and gearing up.  I seriously thought we were going to have to stay in Phoenix.  However, Curtis was correct, if we had the whole journey would have been messed up since Day 2 is a 300 mile ride, and there is no way we could do that and the leg from Phoenix.

Therefore, we left Phoenix on Sunday, December 26, 2010 at sunset heading for Douglas, Arizona.  From Phoenix we took I-10 East (I-10 begins in Norfolk, VA and terminates in LA) to Benson (southeast of Tuscon) and then AZ-80 to Douglas.  We traveled approximately 250 miles on this night, and did it in 4 hours, stopping for gas just outside Tuscon and in Benson.  From Benson we went through Tombstone, AZ (yes, the Tombstone of Wyatt Earp fame) and Bisbee (Lynn Bracken's hometown) and finally to Douglas.

Since I spent 5-years at ASU, I took the lead out of town, and kept a pretty decent pace, but these bikes being what they are, really couldn't get much over the speed limit, which outside of the cities in Arizona is 75 mph.  Also, these bikes being what they are, the mirrors leave a lot to be desired -- oh, sure you can see something behind you, but it seems especially at night what you get looks more like Dali work than a vehicle behind you -- from 50 yards you cannot tell whether that object is a 2 or 4 headlight car, or a single headlight motorcycle.

Thus, as we approached Tuscon and our course through the city in I-10, I began to get concerned that Curtis wasn't right on my tail, so I cut it back from 70-75 mph, to 60-65.  And cars kept passing me, and passing me, and passing me, and passing me - for many miles.  So finally, after this went on for 10s of miles, I decided to just pull over and wait for him to catch up and found a well lighted exit ramp at Exit 208.  And I waited, and waited, and waited and waited (a hundred cars must have passed me by).  I sent Curtis a terse email as to his whereabouts -- because if he went into a ditch or the median in the pitch black of the desert night, I, with my already poor vision, would never be able to see him.  Finally, with about 5 min. to go before I called 911, Curtis came up and pulled over.  He said that over 72 mph if he raised his head above his tank and windshield his bike would wobble/wallow uncontrollably - so he had to either lay down on the tank at speed, or slow down when sitting up.  We decided to let him take the lead for the next 25 miles, and we'd pull over and fill up.  Sure enough, I saw the phenomena - and it scared me.  We're pretty sure its a weight distribution issue in his pack and will get it corrected on Day 2.

The other issue to report is the marked temperature drop off in the desert outside the cities - with the Tuscon-Benson-Douglas leg probably being the worst.  Now, it was a reported 41 degrees in Douglas when we arrived, but I questioned what is the wind chill of 41 degree temperature at 70 mph.  Sure my toes and throttle hand were cold, but my core was fine, and it certainly is not enough to get either frostbite or hypothermia.  The rest of our riding is going to be in the daytime -- with the early morning hours likely the most chilly.  I suspect we'll be zipping in the fleece liners in the AM, and zipping them out by lunch everyday - except those days we're hugging the Sea of Cortez on the way to Mazatlan.

Hopefully, we'll have Internet access when we get to Creel tomorrow and have more to report regarding our journey into Mexico and across the Sonoran Desert.

Repairs & a Comment on Motorcycle Dealerships

I was able to only have to replace the back half of the left side control module, leaving the original front which had all the electronics and obviating the need to snake the cable to the wiring harness.  The bark buster was easy.  Left the clutch lever in place as it works fine and can fix when we return.

The right side starter module was pushed down by the mirror stem so all I had to do was push it back up.  However, that module has a unique fastener -- a bolt with a purpose-built and permanently installed washer that fits neatly into a pair of notches.  When the thing got pushed down, the bolt pulled its head and washer through the out and was a real PIA to get out.  I took the new bolt-washer from the replacement unit and am good to go.  Removed and reinstalled the right bark buster and everything is good there.

I discovered additional damage upon personal inspection.  The windscreen blew out 2 of 3 fasteners.  The Kawasaki dealership did not have any and couldn't get any in time.  Missing 2 of 3 (only the middle one remained), one of which was also missing the nut.  So I positioned the 2 nuts on the outside, got a bolt from another part and then rigged up something that works for the middle.  It is secure now.

Each fairing was damaged.  The right more obvious than the left.  The standoff on the right was crushed (but at least not broken), and the brackets were both bent, the bottom more than the top.  Straightened those and reinstalled more or less to spec.  The left standoff broke (which I'm trying to setup overnight in JB Weld; which didn't work).  The left should be fine w/or w/o the standoff because it has 3 fasteners (2 on the radiator cover, and one above on the subframe).

Panniers arrived today and installed so there is no apparent (other than scratches) damage to the Happy Trails rack.

I do have a comment though about this Kawasaki dealership, and motorcycle dealerships in general.  They appear to have a complete lack of enthusiasm for their purpose, and in my opinion customer service is a foreign concept to them.  When I phoned last week with my parts problem, there was zero interest in my situation -- they basically said, "Well, these parts may arrive by Wednesday, or not, we don't know (or care)."  In fact, I had to get them to double-check on the availability.  Today, was more of the same -- no interest in this strange guy from Nashville here in PHX buying $400 worth of parts, nor was there even any query whether there was anything they could do to help me out (or even whether I needed any help).  They did cut Curtis a nice key though -- for $15 (you'd think that if they just sold someone $400 worth of parts they could throw in a key!).

Repairs Effected

Can Someone Be Addicted to Heroin and Crack at the Same Time?

Okay, so I'm at BNA waiting to board my 5:35 pm flight to Chitown, where I'll connect to PHX for an ETA of 11:00 pm Mountain (that's like Midnight Central, and borderline catatonic for those that get up at 3:30 am to prepare a house for owner absence).  As I go through security, which is remarkably light, I encounter this obviously impaired brunette -- she's having trouble with her belt, shoes, laptop, you name it.  Thankfully, she was in another line (ahead of a couple that had not 1, not 2, but 3 strollers; 2 for the kiddos, 1 for the shit), and did not impede me (Little did I know).

Since my flight was delayed until 5:55 I had some time to get a bite to eat and went to the Nashville staple - O'Charley's.  Well, as I am waiting for my fried cheese wedges, who stumbles in -- our favorite inebriate!  After dropping her carry-on somewhere in the vicinity of the bar, she hauled herself up on a stool and ordered something unintelligible -- I know, because even though she had her back to me and I couldn't hear her, the bartender couldn't understand her either and had to get her to repeat her order 3 times before she discerned our friend wanted a Bloody Mary (she was about as bad as the inbred Cajun from the Adam Sandler movies).  I ate, left and prepared to get in the infamous Southwest Airlines que.

While I'm hanging out at the gate seeing if I can get a few seconds of free charge on my phone from the kiosk before having to board, but who ambles up -- right, our favorite inebriate!  She is now nearly un-understandable -- squinty eyes, heavy speech, spittle, you name it.  She clearly does not know the protocol and prepares to cut in front of all of the As, when I make the mistake of pointing out that she didn't even have a boarding pass and would have to go to the counter and get one (likely in steerage and hopefully near the back of the plane next to the lavatory).

As an aside here let me give a useful travel pointer -- don't cross the Southwest A's -- those people guard their status more zealously than a mama grizzly does her cub, certainly with more of a hair trigger than Sarah does Trig.  I was A48, and had A47 get in my face and say I had to "get behind him."   Buddy, what is it worth that you can pick your seat before me or get off the plane infinitesimally quicker than I?  The whole Southwest boarding pass phenomena needs further academic study.

            As another aside (not Southwest specific) but don't sit in the right front aisle seat (which is where I sat from Chitown to PHX) if there is any risk that an old lady is going to use the front lavatory but not properly shut the door -- there are things that you can't unsee!

But back to our story: well, our impaired friend didn't think that was the best solution and proceeded to try and crash the gate with whatever piece of paper she had in her hand at the time.  Thankfully, the gate attendant pointed out to her (again!) that her "document" wasn't a boarding pass and that she'd have to get one from the counter.  Inwardly I'm cheering because with a completely full plane there is no way this gal is getting anything but the unquestionably worst seat on the plane -- middle seat, last row against the lav.  I may get a toddler, I may get an expectant mother with an outie, but at least I won't have this precious next to me!  Little did I know!

As I am waiting for all the passengers to board I decided to put my iPhone into Airplane Mode (no radio activity whatsoever) in order to conserve battery, and listen to the soundtrack to Long Way Round (heavy on the Stereophonics and Radiohead -- great road-trippin' music).  While I'm sitting there kind of jammin' out, waiting for the plane to fill up, and a not insubstantial part of me anxious for this whole adventure to start, but who ambles up but our brunette inebriate and she proceeds to take the middle seat between me an another normal guy.  I'm really disappointed!

Well, I figure, I'll just keep these total immersion headphones in and pretend to be blissfully unaware of her presence - that is unless she throws up in my lap (which as we'll see later became a distinct possibility).  Hopefully, she'll just take a nap and be none the worse for wear.  Unfortunately, despite this gal being so "influenced" that she could barely navigate airport security, and took 3 tries to negotiate her drink order, she could just not sit still.  If she wasn't getting up and down to go to the lavatory, she was fidgeting in her seat or crossing her right leg over her left and kicking it into my right leg (repeatedly and apparently unaware of what she was doing).

As we were preparing to land in Chitown, the weather was uncooperative and the crew had us come off our portable devices (aka shields against imbecile disturbance).  Which meant I was going to have to turn of my iPhone and take off my headphones (certainly I could have kept the phones in, but then I would have been definitely tagged an ass).  Now I was forced to deal one-on-one with the barely intelligible squirrel to my right.  What did I find?

"Candace," at least that is how I think she pronounced her name (picture to the right).  I'm pretty sure she repeatedly said she was 50-something (how that is an asset is beyond me).  She kept putting her feet up against the seat ahead of her, which I'm certain pissed off that guy since he shoved his seat back into her feet at least twice (clearly she failed the airplane etiquette protocol).  Then when she spoke it was if she'd recently undergone oral surgery, spoke with her mouth full of cotton or had a marked speech impediment -- imagine talking to someone whose tongue is 2 to 3 times its normal size -- she was barely intelligible.  Yet she was also apparently bouncing off the walls of the plane -- thus, can someone be addicted to heroin (an anesthetic and depressant) and crack (a stimulant) at the same time?  If so, Candace of SWA Flight 1735 BNA to MDW you take the prize!

However, the best is saved for last: as the plane started to descend into Chitown "Candace" started to involuntarily "burp" "chuck" or IMHO prepare to puke.  She was complaining about how she had problems with the altitude adjustments associated with landings and at numerous times during the longest 5 minutes of my life I thought I was going to have to grab the barf bag (I've never had to do that and I have 10 and 8 year olds - imagine the likelihood?).  Thankfully, "Candace" did not lose it.

The picture was taken soon after the risk of vomitous had subsided and when I explained I was going to write about this experience in our blog, "Candace" kept repeating how she wanted me to post her "phone number" in our blog.  Even though I gave her several reasons why that was a bad idea (sexual assault advertisement?) I finally relented and said I post it.  So Candace this is for you:

For a good time, call Candace: 867-5349!

An Omen?

Despite our careful (some might call it compulsive) packing of the bikes for shipping to Arizona, the carrier somehow backed a forklift into Jeff’s bike. At least we think that’s what happened. The tank fairing on the right side is bashed up, and the bike was leaning left when dropped off. One mirror was snapped off, and many of the handlebar mounted controls were broken. Jeff ordered parts and has a few days to repair before we leave. Silver lining: Jeff gets to practice his mechanic skills, and maybe we have some spares in case we dump our bikes in Copper Canyon.

Choice of Transportation/Bikes

When we decided that an adventure ride such as this was possible we began to look at the available mode of getting there and back.  Because of the nature of the roads in Mexico, many are unimproved dirt/gravel, and even the state highways and toll roads have these speed features called topes -- essentially giant speed bumps -- taking our street bikes would not be in the cards.  Therefore we turned to the choices in so-called dual sport, on-road/off-road adventure bikes.  These boiled down to:

• BMW GS Series
• Suzuki DR Series
• A variety of KTM bikes
• Honda XR Series
• Kawasaki KLR

Sure there are other equally deserving considerations, the Kawasaki Versys, a recent offering from Yamaha, and the veritable jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none, Suzuki VStrom.  However, each of those would either be a significant compromise or require prohibitive modification.

Our criteria were:

• Proven in the field (BMW, KTM & Kawasaki)
• Longevity (in other words, have been doing this for more than a few years; same as above);
• Medium weight with rider & luggage (this rules out the BMW GS1200 as overweight, and the Suzuki DR and Honda XR as underweight);
• Availability of replacement parts to take and worldwide (if we prepped beforehand a KTM or BMW this wouldn't be an issue, but in Mexico, KLR parts, particularly tires and tubes, should be generally available);
• Capital Cost.

Which leaves us with the veritable Kawasaki KLR650, a middle-weight, dual sport that has been around forever.  Indeed, until the 2008 model year the KLR has remained practically unchanged since 1987!  Which means it has a proven design that works.  It also means that it has an abundance of replacement parts readily available.  Finally, even off the assembly line the KLR is a relative bargain, and used its a steal compared to the BMW and KTM.  Since we're only going approximately 2,500 miles, and not around the world, or even Tierra del Fuego, it is the ideal choice.

Bikes are on their Way

We secured these purpose built motorcycle shipping pallets from Castle Powersports in Hendersonville, TN.  Curtis has a friend who owns Holistic PetSource and they have a large warehouse and shipping dock.  So after choking on siphoned gas, and securing the bikes with an inordinate amount of tie-down, we're about as ready as we can be.

Our concern is that the pallets are 108' wide/long and how difficult it will be to load them on a narrower trailer, or getting them off at the in-laws in Phoenix.  As you can see, there are white triangles at the bottom to mark where to slide the forklift in; however, we understand that these same slots won't accept a pallet jack, so Grampie in Phoenix may be in for an interesting unload.

What this is all about

My name is Jeff Miller, and I'm a health care lawyer practicing in Nashville, TN.  My good friend and law partner is Curtis Capeling.  We're both avid motocyclists; indeed, unless it is monsoon raining, or there is ice or snow on the road I ride a Suzuki GSX-R600 to work everyday (fortunately I only need to go 3 miles each way, and I'm not going to get hypothermia or suffer frostbite in 3 miles, no matter how cold it is).  Curtis, on the other hand rides a much more exotic bike, a KTM SuperDuke, but not to work because his OCD regarding his bike and gear would not allow time for work.

That's me, obviously NOT on the way to work.

Curtis in his Stormtrooper gear.

So how did all of this take a motorcycle to Mexico talk start?

About a year ago this time I came across Ewan McGregor's adventure The Long Way Around.  Those guys chronicled their adventure of taking a pair of motorcycles from London to New York City going East.  Read the book and watch the episodes, they really had the time of their life.  Now they had pretty much unlimited funds, a pair of trailing support vehicles, medical staff, security, and went on $20,000 BMW GS1200 adventure bikes, kitted out with communications, GPS, and recording gear, plus a whole film crew.  We wouldn't have any of that (well, maybe the GPS, and if you count hand signals, we have communications too).

So that got us talking about doing something similar.  Curtis is a Cannuk, and his family retired in Placencia, Belize, so we thought, "Why not ride a pair or bikes down there at Christmas, meet our wives and children there, sell the bikes and fly back?"  Well, a number of reasons why that was a bad idea:

• Import duties are prohibitively expensive.  We discovered that bringing a vehicle into another country is not quick and easy, as you have to basically temporarily import the vehicle for a modest duty, but if you don't export the thing within 6-months you have to pay a duty equivalent to 150% of the value of the bike; and
• Flying 2-wives and 4-children to Belize and back, at Christmas is also prohibitively expensive.

So we had to opt for a trip into and out of Mexico that could coincide with the lull in our profession that sometimes (if you plan correctly) can occur at the end of the year.  In later posts we will detail our choice of bikes, how we went about getting them and kitting them out, and our planned route.  We hope you enjoy sharing in our adventure.