It´s not an adventure...

[AusFletch]

So where were we? On the road between la frontera and Saltillo, If I recall correctly. Well, the toll road between the border and Saltillo is wide, sparsley populated and d...e...r...e...c...h...o. Derecho como una flecha. Flecha. Fletcher. Flecha, Fletcher, flecha, Fletcher. Hmmm? Oh, wait, I digress. Sorry, I am easily distracted.


We ride the arrow-straight toll road for a hundred miles or so until we run into (figuratively, not literally, thank goodness) these guys:

They are the PFP (Policia Federal Preventiva) and are looking for drugs, guns and money (where's Warren Zevon when you need him?) with a a big x-ray machine that you drive through. I chatted with one of the officers for a minute and they decided, like most times, that motorcyclists are too weird or worthless to mess with and they flag us on. Wait. I have some questions for you! Like any good cop, these guys picked a spot for their interdiction efforts next to the only restaurant we had seen for 70 miles. So, I asked about the food. The officer told me it is great. Good enough for us.


Viejo sat down to his first meal in Mexico.

I had been giving Viejo sage advice to ease his mind about food in Mexico. You know the drill. Watch the ice, don't eat lettuce and unpeeled fruit, water from a bottle only, yada, yada, yada. As I am about to take a sip of my coffee Viejo says, "What about the coffee?". To the sound of a needle scratching across a record in my head I pause with the cup at my lips, the smell of coffee curling into my right nostril and look at him askance. "What about the coffee?" I respond. "Well, coffee water isn't actually boiled and, well, you said not to drink water you don't see come from a bottle. I'm just saying."


Doh! Double doh! I have been drinking coffee in Mexico for years with no problem but also never thought of that. Of course, I am going to drink it. Of course I am going to have angst. Of course I will not enjoy it now. Sigh.


Later the PFP wander in to eat and sit down eating breakfast and watching, of all things, Serpico in Spanish.

Out in the parking lot we spot a typical campesino rat bike. That is a floor pump with a canvas hose circa about 1952 strapped to the engine guard.

I ate farm fresh eggs with yolks as orange as a setting sun and we headed out to make Saltillo by afternoon.


We quickly found our hotel - a nice place two blocks of the zocalo where AusWife and I have evaded the local constabulary, er,
stayed before (it's a long story for another time!). It has great rooms with two king beds and a secluded, secure courtyard (good for hiding from the law!) for $500NP per night.

Guapo seriously considers 'mounting' his GS. He really likes that bike but reluctantly decides to go see the town with us instead.

With no further adieu, Saltillo in pictures (mostly Guapo's - they're the good ones):

Please allow me a short maudlin detour. One of the things I like most in life are those serendipitous moments that remind you the world is a much smaller place than it seems. I was fortunate to have several such moments on this trip. As I mentioned earlier, last time I traveled to Saltillo was to train Coahuila State Police, Saltillo Municipal Police and Mexico Federal Highway Patrol in police emergency driving. Well, the four of us were wandering through the elegant old streets of Saltillo's centro. In the centro and near the zocalo there are an abundance of Saltillo Police. As we wandered down one side street a door atop a short flight of steps opened. A pretty girl emerged so, of course, I turned to look. A Saltillo Police Officer followed her out the door and we both immediately recognized each other from the training event last summer. We exchanged hand shakes, (manly) embraces and introduced each other to our friends - although he somehow managed to avoid introducing me to that pretty girl! Here we are strolling down the street of a city of 3/4 of a million people 500 miles from home and over a year removed from our initial acquaintance yet we bump into each other AND recognize each other. The world is not that big, brother. Of course, I still wouldn't want to paint it....

Before we know it morning has dawned crisp and clear so we are soon loaded for the ride to Real de Catorce

This, then, is our goal for the day and the place I will take you, faithful reader, on my next post...

 

[scar04]

waiting.....More please.

 

[AusFletch]

waiting.....More please.

Sorry, I just got home after shopping for kitchen cabinets and have to be up at 430am to run. How about a couple random photos by Guapo to tide you over? Guapo is good at many things - most things he tries, really - but he is particularly good at photography. He has a knack for catching the feeling of what made you stop to take the photo in the first place. I find myself looking at his pictures and I feel like I am standing just outside the frame. Looking at his pictures it feels like that if I could just relax a...tiny...bit...more I could actually feel the wind on my face or hear the children's voices or smell the market aromas.

I promise I will get you all to Real de Catorce this weekend. Funny that the telling of this adventure is taking longer than the actual adventure itself. I think that is a good thing.

 

[Viejo]

Well Fred, I had to look up what Viejo meant. Really, the Ancient One? I don't feel anchient yet, but guess I'll go with it. Riding in places like this can make you feel very young indeed.

 

[scar04]

THank you.

 

[AusFletch]

At least I wasn't riding around looking like a biker babe on the back of Marks Suzuki.

Hey, no spoilers....

 

[z_clark]

Really really enjoying this one!

 

[1042rider]

Thought I should mention that there were some interesting quotes that came from this trip...Guapo

Viejo: "I brought all this money expecting to have to pay bribes at every stop! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

Joven: "You're right, it's unbelievable that every woman knows the words to every Mexican song!" (And can sing, I might add)

Baboso: "Vacation money isn't like real money, it's like play money!"

 

[AusFletch]

So after leaving Saltillo we head towards Real de Catorce via Concepcion del Oro. I thought this town, which I knew as only a spot on the map, might be worthwhile as a via point.

We rolled into this little hillside town with narrow cobblestone streets to encounter - a traffic jam. We (okay, I) got frustrated waiting in traffic so I detoured - the wrong way down a steep dead end street. I managed to wave everyone else off but had to slowly do a 19-point turn around without dropping Joven's VStrom. Oh, yeah, Joven and I had recently swapped out bikes. Guapo thinks this may have been the source of the bad karma that eventually disabled my GS.

After escaping the clutches of a small town traffic jam we turned east towards Real de Catorce. As we approached the next turn there was the ubiquitous military checkpoint complete with 19-year old machine-gun toting soldier. We rolled to a stop. The soldier, wearing a glow-vest that was hardly more visible than his camo fatigues, began the usual line of questioning that always leads nowhere. When he grew bored with trying to decipher my Spanish he waved us on. Wait, I say, how far is it to Real de Catorce? He s..l..o..w..l..y turns around to his left and gestures with the barrel of his rifle towards that sign - about 18 feet away - that reads "Real de Catorce - 38 km". Doh! Okey doke then, have a good one!

We headed on and found ourselves trolling through a 600 person town called Vanegas that was just firing up for lunch. Of course, we stopped.

There was a dusty street lined with food vendors and children in immaculate plaid school uniforms. It never ceases to amaze me how clean Mexicans can keep their kids in such a dusty, dirty environment.


This boy walked up to us and started asking about the motorcycles as soon as we arrived. He was never beyond arm's reach of the motorcycles. I think he may be a future TWT'er.

It took some coaxing but he finally climbed aboard:

There were all sorts of motorcycles in the region:

Cooking 7 kinds of meet (beef, pork, bacon, chorizo, hot dogs, bologna, and something I couldn't identify):

A local resident directed us to her gordita stand instead:

Guapo and Joven enjoying picadillo gorditas:

Local merchants:

This old guy is the one who directed us to the gordita stand. He said he wanted to get us some sugar cane. We thought he would get someone to donate it but he bought it for a couple bucks (more than our gorditas) as a goodwill gesture. I am certain that 2 bucks would feed him and his family for a day in Vanegas. This is typical campesino generosity and graciousness.

We couldn't get enough of this old dog. Guapo wanted to lay an empty beer bottle in his paws for this picture:

A little sociological aside. I went into a tiendita to buy us 4 half-liter cokes. After some language-impeded back and forth I found out the cokes were $16 pesos total ($1.60 US) but that included $4NP (40 cents) deposit. The lady running the store was VERY concerned that I bring the bottles back. She really would've preferred we drink them in front of her. I promised on the soul of my abuela that I would return. A half hour later I came back and dropped the bottles on the counter and waved at the old woman in the back of the store then turned and walked out. She immediately hollered at me and I thought, oh lord, what international incident have I created now? The woman frantically ran after me, grabbed me by the jacket sleeve, pulled up my hand and pressed 4 $1 peso coins into my palm. She wanted to make sure I got my deposit back. I have encountered this type of rigid honesty repeatedly in Mexico. I have never felt cheated or swindled. I love this country.

We loaded up and noticed everybody in town found a way to 'wander' by the 4 big gringos on monster-sized motorcycles. We felt like rock stars. We loaded up while trying to act non-chalant as we rolled out of town waving to the people like heroes. I immediately got us lost. We had to return via the same town 30 minutes with our tails between our legs - conquering heroe no more.

This left only a 30 minute ride up the cobblestone road to Real.


The cobblestone road is about 12 miles long and leads from a state-highwayish road up into the mountains where it eventually meets the one way 2-mile long Ogarrio tunnel to Real de Catorce.

Next time I post I will take you on a better tour of Real de Catorce and try to convey why I often burst into moments of spontaneous happiness like this when I am in Mexico:

 

[gotdurt]

 

[1042rider]

REALLY enjoying the guided tour of the trip, Fletch...of course, (MUY)Guapo was quick to point out which are his photos. Looking forward to more! Signed, (MUY)Guapo's wife

 

[Viejo]

Your doing a great job with this post Fred.

 

[DFW_Warrior]

Great post so far!!! You really make me want to go to Mexico! Graeme, what do you say????

 

[AusFletch]

Great post so far!!! You really make me want to go to Mexico! Graeme, what do you say????

Thanks. I've been busy all weekend doing the chores that allow me to make these trips. I will try to update through at least "The Incident' tonight. -Fletch

 

[Doons]

That Black GS looks very familiar to me.... like maybe it had spent some time in Plano and before that Michigan before being used for what it was designed for. Nice to know it got to play in the dirt finally!!

 

[1042rider]

Yes, it has a past in Plano and in Michigan. 22,900 miles and climbing. Glad you are able to see it enjoying the life it was meant for...!

 

[AusFletch]

AusWife is now in North Dakota shivering in the dark while trying to inspect a college. I have assembled all the furniture we bought before she left. A mostly empty Mexican beer sits in front of me and 5 of his companeros wait in the fridge to help me help you all get up to date on the misadventures of 4 gueros in Mexico.

Let's go on a quick photo-tour of Real de Catorce starting with our hotel for the night:

Roof Dogs:

Our Veranda (we had two rooms that opened onto the patio):

Pizza and beer on veranda:
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Random shots from around town:
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Real was really kind of surreal in the evening and night. We spent an evening in what Guapo described as 'the coolest hotel he had ever seen'. I can't disagree. We ate an early dinner then spent the evening wandering the streets and seeing things as if we had gotten new eyes when we crossed the border. The evening sky was blue and black and glowing all at the same time. Before the night was over we ended up sitting on the front porch of a tiendita smoking cigars, drinking Indio beer (Viejo's new favorite - sorry, you can't buy it this side of the border) and basically enjoying the reason we came on this trip - to experience the unexpected. Ultimately, that is why I travel and motorcycles are only a mode of locomotion.

That and the fact that big motorcycles in Mexico make you a celebrity:
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Before we knew it the sun was up and the frost on our saddles was beginning to thaw and we loaded up and headed down the mountain (insert ominous, foreshadowing music here) en route to Guanajuato:

I never suspected the demons awakening in my final drive as we headed down:
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It's important to stay hydrated but it does cut into your moving average speed:
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After we took the, uh, break and shed some clothes I was about to swing a leg over the bike when I spotted this:
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[B][I]I wondered aloud to my companions, "Gosh, do you think something might be amiss with my final drive????"[/I][/B]

 

[jhansen]

The last pic says to me "that sucks". Great pictures of the town and the kiddos.

 

[AusFletch]

When people ask me if I am going to take a camera on a trip I usually reply that I will bring Guapo instead. From now on when people ask me what I am going to pack in my took kit I am going to say the same about Joven and Viejo. These guys are mechanical savants (unlike me who, I was once told, is an idiot savant without the savant part) about motorcycles.

Within moments they had my wheel off and the problem expertly diagnosed: "You're screwed!"

We re-assembled the bike and made some phone calls. The Mexican insurance company really came through and had a flat bed truck en route to pick us up and tow us over 250 miles back to the BMW shop in Monterrey. We were skeptical so got comfortable to wait:
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Guapo eventually showed some leg to appease the moto gods:

Smoke 'em if you got 'em:

Joven:

He wasn't with us but waited anyhow - until a bus came:

Before the 90 minutes reported by the insurance company had elapsed the tow was there and we loaded up (thanks, Joven, for using your long legs and great moto skills to load my bike on the SLIPPERY platform):

It tears my heart apart to see a BMW on a truck:

My boys followed closely like a presidential escort - it's almost as if they had done this sort of thing before:

Before we new it we were in Monterrey and the shop had been turned over to a combination BMW car/motorcycle store. My only regret from this trip is that I did not get any photos of the young women who wrote the service tickets: Trust me on this one - Mexico is a great country.

We found a hotel in the area and improvised to get there. Pictures, as they say, are worth a thousand harassments:

Monterrey, other than the highest concentration of beautiful women I can recall, has nothing to offer me. Case in point: We stayed in a Hampton Inn next to a Starbucks in a strip center with an Applebees, a sushi bar and an HEB. If someone were to have transported us here we would have guessed we were in The Woodlands or San Antonio as easily as Mexico. But did I mention the women??? I digress...

The next morning my boys were loaded up for the return assault on Guanajuato:

I took a different mode of transport:

Please humor me to inject yet another maudlin aside into today's missive. First, I'd like to talk about AusWife. I know she worries about me more than I ever would ever have the sense to worry about myself when I set off on my latest hare-brained and dubious adventure but she never lets it show. When I told her 15 years ago that I wanted to leave my career as a mild-mannered CPA to become a police officer she just looked me in the eyes and said, "Will it make you happy?" She never asked about the pay cut, the risk, the affects on her life. Never. When I tell her of my latest ill-thought idea that usually revolves around some bizarre travel destination or method she looks at me the same way. I have never felt more loved and trusted (is there that big of a difference betweent the two?) than on a motorcycle trip to Mexico when we entered Real de Catorce for the first time and turned up a STEEEP, damp, slick, cambered cobblestone road that narrowed and narrowed and narrowed until it slammed level with a HARD right angle turn into a street no wider than a sidewalk. I have VERY humble riding skills but I committed to the hill before I knew what I had bitten off and all I could do was keep rolling on throttle as we slid and fishtailed and then leapt over the lip and slammed to a stop. AusWife never screamed, never budged, never squeezed, never exhibited an iota of the terrible dread I was feeling myself. She later told me she knew I would always do my best to keep us safe and would never ask any more. That, my friends, is how 24 years together goes by like I am still on my first date. I say that because, when I called to tell her what happened she said only two things: "Are you all rignt?" and "What do you need me to do?" She quickly booked me a flight home and routed it through Guanajuato so I could finish my trip with my friends.

Next I would like to talk aobut my friends. I have always traveled alone. I like what I like when I like it. I have never wanted to be responsible for someone else of feel like someone had to be responsible for me. I have changed my attitude. I could not be more honored than to have traveling companions, to have friends, like Guapo, Joven and Viejo. Even though my predicament carved out a big chunk of their precious vacation they never hesitated to sacrifice their adventure to help me out and stick with me. They never betrayed a moment of disappointment but took it all in as part of the adventure. If it is true that the character of a man can be judged by the quality of his friends then I am fully prepared to stand in judgment. Thank you, guys...

Okay, let's get back to story-telling.

When my plane arrived in Leon I was looking a bit worn. I had to wear my dirty, oily motorcycle boots because they were too big to pack. I was carrying all my bags (two backpacks) and had no checked luggage. I was traveling on a one-way, two-city ticket from Mexico to the US that was purchased by another party in the US. I was wearing mirrored sunglasses, a t-shirt and dirty jeans. In my profession those things have a technical term for them: Clues.

As soon as I stepped into the terminal the Federales were waiting. They completely ignored the guy ahead of me with the rocket launcher slung over his back and the guy behind me with the cage full of spider monkeys to single me out for inspection.

Federale: (Through mirrored sunglasses apparently supplied by Central Wardrobe) Where. Are. You. Coming. From?
Me: Well, uh, Austin, er, no, Real de Catorce....no, wait, Monterrey, yeah, Monterrey. I'm coming from Monterrey. Heehee....
Federale: (Removing mirrored sunglasses and stepping VERY close to me) Where. Are. You. Going?
Me: (Sheepishly, very sheepishly) Guanajuato?
Federale: (As partner opens my backpacks and dives in) Papers. Please.
Me: (Fishing my passport out of my wallet)
Federale: (Glimpsing my badge) Are you a police officer?
Me: Yes, sir. (sensing opportunity) Actually, I have a friend that works with you all...I taught him driving last summer. Do you know Captain Garcia from the Coahuila Region?
Federale: (eyes getting as big as the mirrored lenses that concealed them a few moments earlier). Uh, er, uh, El Comandante? Si!

At this point the federales shoved everything back in my bags, shook my hands and sent me on my way.

That is it for the day. My next post should be my last but I have a great deal of angst about it. I love Guanajuato and it feels like a home away from home. I want to share it with the world but also don't want it to change. What to do? What to do???

 

[Viejo]

Mr. Fletch. If there was ever anything I would like to have thought up myself to say to my wife, you just printed it. Those words really hit home for me. Thank you. I have been on many motorcycle travels all over North America and have been blessed with the best travel companions possible. You , Mark and Todd are among them.

Quatro Amigos

 

[Oztotl]

Perhaps others have mentioned this, but the alternate road leading down through the canyon to the west out of RDC is an interesting route. It ends at the former train station on the highway. Not sure I'd want to man-handle one of those big Beemers down that road, but there's a lot of interesting stuff along the way. I've driven it numerous times (up and down) in a 4wd PU and intend to return someday to ride it properly. The path is obvious on Google Maps.

Corral de Conde used to be an intersting place to stay. Not sure if it's still run by the same guy (Sr. Juan - a German), but taking him a canned ham was always viewed as a gift from heaven.

Thanks for the report. RDC is a unique place.

- A retired caver from San Antonio.

 

[anaconda]

Wow, what and adventure! Even though you had to cut your trip short!

 

[Calgary-Yogi]

Great reading. Another place to add to the ride list.

Great post so far!!! You really make me want to go to Mexico! Graeme, what do you say????

I AM IN

 

[scar04]

Yes, Indio is an outstanding beer. I love it. my buddy always has a case of it at his house (I now realize why I hang out with him). Mexico can be an amazing place, you just have to get past the border cities (and even those are pretty neat), and it is truly beautiful, the cola de caballo falls would have been a pretty good sidetrip for you guys near Monterrey, I havent been there in years, and yes, it did have a downtown San Antonio feel to parts of it. This has been a really good report (up to the point your final drive took a dump, but it got better). I met a large touring group from Veracruz who rode up to Laredo for a party/rally they were having. Monterrey has probably the largest HD dealer in Mexico from what Ive heard. those were some really nice guys and rode over to the local HD to invite us all over to NL. they had everything from Goldwings, to Harleys/Metric cruiser, to one guy on an F650GS. I talked to him for about 10 minutes, then they took off to NL again. Glad to see it wasnt a bust for you Aus. Are you gonna go get the bike and ride back?

 

[AusFletch]

Perhaps others have mentioned this, but the alternate road leading down through the canyon to the west out of RDC is an interesting route. It ends at the former train station on the highway. Not sure I'd want to man-handle one of those big Beemers down that road, but there's a lot of interesting stuff along the way. I've driven it numerous times (up and down) in a 4wd PU and intend to return someday to ride it properly. The path is obvious on Google Maps.

Corral de Conde used to be an intersting place to stay. Not sure if it's still run by the same guy (Sr. Juan - a German), but taking him a canned ham was always viewed as a gift from heaven.

Thanks for the report. RDC is a unique place.

- A retired caver from San Antonio.

When I mentioned getting lost earlier I think this is the road we were about to take. BiciMapas GPS routed me that way but it was unfamiliar so I went back to the route I knew. Later, when we were walking about Catorce we stumbled across a dude in a 4x4 who told us about a 4wd trail out of Catorce. He said it is a great road we would like on the m/c. It looked like a goat trail from a distance so we were dubious and decided to pass. I bet this is the same road. -Fletch