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The plan was to ride the 800 or so miles from Houston to El Paso. Of course, that didn’t happen. When we got to West Texas, the wind was blowing pretty dang hard to the east. As a matter of fact, we found out later, the KLRs were getting about 33-35 miles to the gallon riding into the stout head wind. Before we realized the gas mileage was that bad, both KLRs were on reserve in the middle of nowhere, West Texas. About 9 miles after both bikes were switched to reserve the reserve ran out. Both KLRs were laid down on their left sides to access those last drops of gas stuck on the right side of their tanks. The plan was to ride through the grass north of the westbound lanes to the feeder road and ride at about 45 mph down the feeder road to make good use of the last drops of gas. We got lucky and found a small gas station about five miles down the road. After filling up with gas and bottled water, Kevin got to looking at his tires and found about 10 thorns. He started pulling those thorns checking each hole to be sure the tire wasn’t leaking. The very last thorn he pulled had penetrated the tube.
About an hour and a half later and a new tube later, we were back on the road. Some quick calculations put us in El Paso after sunset. We decided to shack up in Fort Stockton rather than risk the West Texas deer. Besides that, we were fairly beat from the winds.
The next morning, the wind wasn’t nearly as bad and the gas mileage was back up to 45-50 mpg. The ride into El Paso was very pleasant with beautiful blue skies. After finding a motel near the Zargoza Crossing, we rode over the Zargoza Crossing into Juarez, Mexico to find paperwork for our ride to Copper Canyon. The permit facilities happened to be at the 20-mile checkpoint. Two of us were told the certified copy of our registration from the state of Texas was insufficient but they gave us the permit anyhow. The entire process took about 2 hours and was fairly painless.
After getting our permits we stopped for gas. I had ridden my GS cause I planned on riding 2-up and I had plenty of gas. Kevin and Jesse found it necessary to stop for gas at a Pemex on the way back to the Zargoza Crossing. It was hot, and I was being impatient. I took off before Kevin was ready and he ended up dropping his gloves without noticing. It wouldn’t have been a big deal but I was doing the navigating and Kevin hadn’t paid much attention on the way out to the 20-mile checkpoint. When Kevin realized he lost his gloves, he turned around and of course, the gloves were gone. (Much like they would have evaporated in Houston after being left behind.) Kevin was a bit pissed at me and of course the creeps who took his fancy motorcycle gloves.
After arriving back in Texas, we learned my nephew’s flight had been cancelled. We planned on picking him up at the El Paso Airport and taking off into Mexico. The next available flight would be the following day.
That evening, we went into Juarez looking for trouble. We ended up at a bar away from the center of town on a busy 4 lane one-way street. As we prepared to go inside, there was this intense noise bouncing off the walls of the surrounding three-four story buildings. It sounded like a 747 coming down the road. Seconds later, about 50 bikes screamed by at well over 100 mph. Most of the riders weren’t wearing helmets. Considering the normal craziness of the average Mexican large city, I can just imagine how many of these guys die on a regular basis.
We didn’t stay in Juarez very long, we got tired of looking for a decent bar and the traffic was a pain even in the middle of the night. After crossing back into El Paso we found a deserted city. Someone had rolled up the sidewalks and put out all the streetlights.
The next day, having a day to kill, we headed for White Sands. I’d been there before and it was fairly cool the second time around.
After leaving White Sands, we hurried back to El Paso and picked my nephew up from the airport. We got lucky and the helmet and jacket I brought fit him fairly well. He was fairly exhausted from the flight. We fed him and hauled him back to the motel.
Early the next morning we crossed back into Mexico and got my nephew’s visitor’s permit. No one asked to see the letters from his parents giving me permission to take him into Mexico.
After getting the permit we headed for Chihuahua and Copper Canyon.
About 50 miles into Mexico, my nephew decided it was time to stop to take a …… Well, you get the picture. I pointed off into the dunes and he started walking. As he walked I yelled out, “Hey, watch out for the rattle snakes.”
My nephew is autistic and he didn’t handle my warning all that well. Kevin was kind enough to do snake patrol while he took care of business.
The roads were fairly decent.
It wasn’t long before we saw a sign.
We ate seafood in Chihuahua and started heading for Copper Canyon. After heading out highway 16 from Chihuahua, we started to climb.
The temperature became very pleasant and the sun was glaring off my scratched visor. I opened the visor long enough to run into a swarm of bees. After making sure I was clear of the bees, I pulled over. I counted about 5 stings to my face. Luckily, the bees that crawled down into my jacket didn’t do any damage. My nephew didn’t get stung.
Here’s where we stopped to hunt down the remaining bees.
Kevin never passes up a good photo op.
There were miles and miles of stone hedges.
Preparing to pay our dues.
After arriving in Cuauhtemoc, we stopped for gas and Keegan, (The nephew,) promptly vomited. My first thought was that I’d already poisoned him with bad food. Seafood isn’t usually my first choice but we were tired of looking for a restaurant. The problem with that theory was that Keegan was the only one hurling seafood. We finally decided he had motion sickness. We found a motel and decided to wait and see if he was better by morning.
The motel was a bit expensive, $65.00, but the room was darn nice.
The next day, we headed for Creel. Keegan was hungry as **** when we stopped for lunch at a taco stand. He wolfed down 6 tacos. Luckily, those tacos would stay in his system.
Here I am pulling out to pass on the road to Creel.
Here’s how the poor people find adventure.
After arriving in Creel, we stayed at another fairly decent motel.
The hot water and the air conditioning worked well. The staff real friendly and curious about our ride.
You see all sorts of transportation in Creel:
Downtown Creel:
We weren’t the only Americano motorcyclists in the hood.
The following day, we lit out for Baltopilas:
Things got interesting when he hit the dirt:
At the bottom, we ran into this character. When asked why he was beating a drum, he told us, “I feel like it.” For a small fee, Keegan was allowed to share in the fun.
Here’s Kevin trying the water:
The Hotel Mary:
Downtown Baltopilas:
An old mission near Baltopilas:
Heading out of the canyon:
Keegan taking a nap while the rest of us change another flat on Kevin’s bike:
We ran into this crazy Englishman on the way out of the canyon. He bought that bike for $450 in the states and has been all over the US and Mexico. It was billowing smoke and only getting about 30 mpg but the guy could ride.
On the way out of Mexico, we met up with the guy driving this car at a rest stop.
He was friendly and even allowed us to take this photograph:
One of the natives:
Coming up to a checkpoint:
Back on US soil:
After arriving back in El Paso, we put Keegan on an airplane for San Francisco and headed back to Houston down Highway 90. It was a bit too windy for Big Brother to be watching:
The Pecos River:
Well, that’s the end…
About an hour and a half later and a new tube later, we were back on the road. Some quick calculations put us in El Paso after sunset. We decided to shack up in Fort Stockton rather than risk the West Texas deer. Besides that, we were fairly beat from the winds.
The next morning, the wind wasn’t nearly as bad and the gas mileage was back up to 45-50 mpg. The ride into El Paso was very pleasant with beautiful blue skies. After finding a motel near the Zargoza Crossing, we rode over the Zargoza Crossing into Juarez, Mexico to find paperwork for our ride to Copper Canyon. The permit facilities happened to be at the 20-mile checkpoint. Two of us were told the certified copy of our registration from the state of Texas was insufficient but they gave us the permit anyhow. The entire process took about 2 hours and was fairly painless.
After getting our permits we stopped for gas. I had ridden my GS cause I planned on riding 2-up and I had plenty of gas. Kevin and Jesse found it necessary to stop for gas at a Pemex on the way back to the Zargoza Crossing. It was hot, and I was being impatient. I took off before Kevin was ready and he ended up dropping his gloves without noticing. It wouldn’t have been a big deal but I was doing the navigating and Kevin hadn’t paid much attention on the way out to the 20-mile checkpoint. When Kevin realized he lost his gloves, he turned around and of course, the gloves were gone. (Much like they would have evaporated in Houston after being left behind.) Kevin was a bit pissed at me and of course the creeps who took his fancy motorcycle gloves.
After arriving back in Texas, we learned my nephew’s flight had been cancelled. We planned on picking him up at the El Paso Airport and taking off into Mexico. The next available flight would be the following day.
That evening, we went into Juarez looking for trouble. We ended up at a bar away from the center of town on a busy 4 lane one-way street. As we prepared to go inside, there was this intense noise bouncing off the walls of the surrounding three-four story buildings. It sounded like a 747 coming down the road. Seconds later, about 50 bikes screamed by at well over 100 mph. Most of the riders weren’t wearing helmets. Considering the normal craziness of the average Mexican large city, I can just imagine how many of these guys die on a regular basis.
We didn’t stay in Juarez very long, we got tired of looking for a decent bar and the traffic was a pain even in the middle of the night. After crossing back into El Paso we found a deserted city. Someone had rolled up the sidewalks and put out all the streetlights.
The next day, having a day to kill, we headed for White Sands. I’d been there before and it was fairly cool the second time around.
After leaving White Sands, we hurried back to El Paso and picked my nephew up from the airport. We got lucky and the helmet and jacket I brought fit him fairly well. He was fairly exhausted from the flight. We fed him and hauled him back to the motel.
Early the next morning we crossed back into Mexico and got my nephew’s visitor’s permit. No one asked to see the letters from his parents giving me permission to take him into Mexico.
After getting the permit we headed for Chihuahua and Copper Canyon.
About 50 miles into Mexico, my nephew decided it was time to stop to take a …… Well, you get the picture. I pointed off into the dunes and he started walking. As he walked I yelled out, “Hey, watch out for the rattle snakes.”
My nephew is autistic and he didn’t handle my warning all that well. Kevin was kind enough to do snake patrol while he took care of business.
The roads were fairly decent.
It wasn’t long before we saw a sign.
We ate seafood in Chihuahua and started heading for Copper Canyon. After heading out highway 16 from Chihuahua, we started to climb.
The temperature became very pleasant and the sun was glaring off my scratched visor. I opened the visor long enough to run into a swarm of bees. After making sure I was clear of the bees, I pulled over. I counted about 5 stings to my face. Luckily, the bees that crawled down into my jacket didn’t do any damage. My nephew didn’t get stung.
Here’s where we stopped to hunt down the remaining bees.
Kevin never passes up a good photo op.
There were miles and miles of stone hedges.
Preparing to pay our dues.
After arriving in Cuauhtemoc, we stopped for gas and Keegan, (The nephew,) promptly vomited. My first thought was that I’d already poisoned him with bad food. Seafood isn’t usually my first choice but we were tired of looking for a restaurant. The problem with that theory was that Keegan was the only one hurling seafood. We finally decided he had motion sickness. We found a motel and decided to wait and see if he was better by morning.
The motel was a bit expensive, $65.00, but the room was darn nice.
The next day, we headed for Creel. Keegan was hungry as **** when we stopped for lunch at a taco stand. He wolfed down 6 tacos. Luckily, those tacos would stay in his system.
Here I am pulling out to pass on the road to Creel.
Here’s how the poor people find adventure.
After arriving in Creel, we stayed at another fairly decent motel.
The hot water and the air conditioning worked well. The staff real friendly and curious about our ride.
You see all sorts of transportation in Creel:
Downtown Creel:
We weren’t the only Americano motorcyclists in the hood.
The following day, we lit out for Baltopilas:
Things got interesting when he hit the dirt:
At the bottom, we ran into this character. When asked why he was beating a drum, he told us, “I feel like it.” For a small fee, Keegan was allowed to share in the fun.
Here’s Kevin trying the water:
The Hotel Mary:
Downtown Baltopilas:
An old mission near Baltopilas:
Heading out of the canyon:
Keegan taking a nap while the rest of us change another flat on Kevin’s bike:
We ran into this crazy Englishman on the way out of the canyon. He bought that bike for $450 in the states and has been all over the US and Mexico. It was billowing smoke and only getting about 30 mpg but the guy could ride.
On the way out of Mexico, we met up with the guy driving this car at a rest stop.
He was friendly and even allowed us to take this photograph:
One of the natives:
Coming up to a checkpoint:
Back on US soil:
After arriving back in El Paso, we put Keegan on an airplane for San Francisco and headed back to Houston down Highway 90. It was a bit too windy for Big Brother to be watching:
The Pecos River:
Well, that’s the end…
? Looks you guy's had fun.
How totally cool that your nephew could go!! My nephew is Autistic as well. He does okay on an ATV as long as things stay pretty tame, but I don't think he could handle a road trip like that. I have often wished I could take him riding though. If I had something like a Goldwing it might be doable. The danger is in him forgetting to hold on. He's a great kid though and would really enjoy it I think.
