Still Alive Tour IV

Day 5: 375 miles

Today was our day to head back to the USA. We caught one last sunrise over the Sea of Cortez.

Simply beautiful.

We spent some time hanging out on the beach, and had a leisurely breakfast. For some reason I was drawn to the pancakes, they really hit the spot, and the coffee in this restaurant was delicious.
An older couple came in, carrying a blanket, and a morbidly obese Pomeranian, wearing a "service dog" vest. They sat her on a blanket covered chair, where she looked over the edge of the table, begging for food, and gasping for air.
At first we were making jokes, trying to guess what her "service" was; food tester, left over disposal, gas detector, seat warmer, napkin... Then we thought, maybe it's something real, like; epilepsy, heart attack, or PT SD. You just never know. One thing was certain, they had to quit feeding that dog so damn much.

After breakfast, we wandered back out to the beach for a little bit. Bill brought us some bottles of water to fill our hydration packs with, and we slowly started to pack our things.

With the bikes all loaded, and protective gear in place, we said our manly "I'm hugging you but hitting you" goodbyes. Then rode to the Pemex, to fill our tanks.
Bill and Sunny stayed an extra night, as it would only take one day for them to get home. And, the flight plan was already filed and approved.

The construction areas were much less chaotic, and better groomed for traffic. We made good time. The last military check point loomed in the distance, as we pulled up, they separated us. This time it was Todt's turn. they emptied his bags, and left him completely disorganized. Exasperated, he finally just shoved everything into his panniers, and forced the lids closed. Yes, I laughed at him, he knew he deserved it.

Rolling into the small town, with the speed bump, we passed a large box-truck. Its back wheels were in the ditch, and its front were dangling four feet in the air. Wonder what the story was behind that.

It was time to stop, get off the bike, and have some caffeine. We went into a store, when we came out, our bikes were covered with flies. It was almost spooky, and kind of gross. They were feasting on the dead bugs splattered all over the front of our bikes.

Riding away, I was surprised by how long they hung on.

We retraced our route to Mexicali, and back to the border. But when we got there, we only found the way in. So, we backtracked till we saw a line of cars sitting behind a concrete barrier. We had to travel several blocks before we found the beginning. Then, battling our way through traffic, we were in line, just as a bunch of cars came in behind us. We were locked in, and it looked like we were going to be there a while.

Just then, someone stopped and yelled something at us, in Spanish. The guy next to us said, "She says that 'motorcycles have a special lane'. But, it's on the other side of the barrier." Then another person told us, and another, and another. You get the picture. But we were stuck, there was no way to get out.

A dude on an old Yamaha stopped to tell us about it, we told him we knew, now, but we couldn't get out. He shook his head and rode away. A few minutes later, he came back, on foot. He said there was a break in the wall ahead, and we could fit through it.

Over the next 40 minutes, as we inched forward, the friendly biker kept coming back and checking on us. Then we saw the break, it was about 6 inches wider than our bikes, and opened onto a sidewalk marked "MEDICAL ONLY". He said, "it's okay, just follow it down, and I'll meet you at the other end."

The cars around us helped to make room, so we could get the right angle to fit through. We rode the sidewalk, dodging around the vendors that walk the line of cars selling their wares.

(We saw everything from food and drink, to velvet Last Suppers, to a puppy.)

When we dropped off the curb at the end of the sidewalk, there was our guy, he said, "follow me" and we did. He was weaving through cars, jumping from one line to the next, and greeting the border patrol agents by name. At the front of the line, there was, indeed, a motorcycle only line, but it was closed. The agents waved us in ahead of the cars, and our new friend went up to the check in first.

We never saw him again, I really wanted to thank him, bikers are just great people.

The entry was quick and painless. We were glad to be home.

See the story continue, next time. See you soon...

Still Alive Tour III

Day 4: continued
We checked in to the Hotel El Cortez, an air conditioned bungalow, with two beds, on the beach, $80 US. Fantastic!

Parking right next to our door.

The view from our room.

And, the nearly deserted beach. Friggen paradise...

First order of business, a swim.

The water here was even warmer, though not as clear. As we bobbed around, a wave came by, Sunny went under for a second, and came up with panic in his eyes. Turns out he doesn't know how to swim well, if at all. So we moved a little closer to shore.

I asked Sunny how it was, that we arrived at the airport so soon after them? He related this story.
After we rode off, they were taxiing up to the runway to take off. The owner of Alfonsinas, ran out in front of them, waving some paperwork. He had to hit the brakes to avoid chopping the guy to pieces with the propeller. Now they were well and truly stuck in the sand.
They exited the plane to asses the situation, and pay the bill the owner was waving at them.  Somehow, Sunny got my little joke, about him paying our bill, turned around in his head. He thought we had payed for them as well, and almost flew off without paying.
While Sunny was dealing with that, Bill worked on digging out the plane. A little more than an hour later, they were finally in the air, and looking for us, so they could to do a fly by.
Once on the ground, in San Felipe, they had to deal with having flown without a flight plan. Apparently, any changes you make to your destinations, and/or dates, have to be filed and approved 24 hours in advance. There are exceptions, of course, but this sort of retroactive change is time consuming, and difficult to navigate. Fortunately, the kind officials at this airport, were very understanding and helpful.

Now it was lunch time, and we agreed on the 1km walk into town to find food. It was a lovely stroll through the streets.

We talked of the feeling of freedom that having to watch where your step brings. No cones and tape around hazards, Big holes in the sidewalk, just waiting to break an unsuspecting ankle. No one to sue, if you trip over your own stupid feet. I like it that way.

(With all the laws, and rules in "The Land of the Free" we've lost the concept of personal responsibility. I crave the right to walk stairs without handrails, slip on a muddy trail. or take my eye out with a home made firework. It's not that I want to get hurt, or see others injured. I just don't want things to be against the law, because I "might" get hurt. Or sue someone because I happened to be standing near their home when I accidentally light myself on fire, again. Or see playground equipment removed from parks, because someone broke their arm once. The world isn't made out of Nerf, and we have to stop expecting it to be.) Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now.

On the playa, we found a cool open air restaurant/bar called the Taco Factory.

We had drinks, and the house special, three kinds of tacos, and a ceviche tostada, yum.

The flamboyant manager regaled us with his life story, all through the meal.

When Todt told him we were from San Francisco, he was very disappointed to find out we were straight.

After lunch we took to the streets to find a sheath for my Leatherman, mine had broken on the way down, and I almost lost this tool I find necessary for my very existence on the planet. Hopes of finding a custom, hand made leather sheath were soon dashed. No one in San Felipe does leather work, according to the locals we questioned. But, I asked every shop owner we passed anyway. Finally a man waved me into his shop. He began digging through a pile of clothes on a banquet table, and pulled out a new, factory Leatherman sheath. He removed a rusty old pocket knife from it, and handed it to me saying, "$5". I offered him $4, and he accepted. Wonder if I could have gotten it for $3?
We slowly made our way back to the hotel, stopping here and there so the boys could buy gifts for their wives. I made them a little jealous, when I told them Julie would kill me if I wasted money on a trinket for her, with our Arctic Expedition coming up in less than two months.

Once back at the hotel, we grabbed our wireless devices, and headed for the bar.

The bartender greeted us and pointed to a table in the corner, saying, "this is where the trouble makers sit." What, us? He was a very nice young man, with excellent English. He brought us our drinks, and some really good chips and salsa. We all put our heads down, and began the task of hooking up to wifi so we could let our loved ones know where we were, and that we were fine.

   With our thirst quenched, and duties done, we made our way to the pool.

  
Armed with the revelation that Sunny was not a swimmer, we thought we should choose whether to give him some beginners swimming lessons, or try to drown him. Ultimately, we did a little of both.

After a couple of hours, we were turning into prunes, and feeling the effects of low blood/alcohol levels. It was time to return to the bar, and have some dinner.
The bartender led us back to "trouble maker's corner" and let us know it was no problem at all to order from the restaurant, they would be happy to bring it over. Gosh dang, I love this place. 
My eyes fell on the lobster, right away. I tried, in vain, to talk myself out of it. They offered it two ways, grilled, and puerto nuevo. I'm in Mexico, puerto nuevo it is.

Having cooked for a living, I should have given more thought to my choice. Although beautiful, and tasty, the parts that had salsa on them had broken down to an unpleasant mushy texture, on the walk over from the restaurant. However, that didn't stop me from devouring the whole thing, in mere minutes.
Here is what the other guys chose...
Fish tacos, for Sunny.

The Mexican Platter, for Todt.

And Fettuccine Alfredo, for Bill.

  All fueled up, and ready to walk the beach back into town. We knew it would be a good time, just wandering the Playa, and seeing what the town had to offer in the evenings. We were right. It was both relaxed, and festive. Families with small children, young lovers, several mariachi bands, and vendors, all brought a wonderful flavor to the night.

 What a great place, I can't wait to bring Julie to San Felipe.

When she comes, we'll definitely take a walk to the lighthouse, we love lighthouses.

Thanks for reading, another post is coming soon.