Random photos courtesy of Nan, and it's a wrap.

Once we had settled on taking the next day's flight, we were free to relax for one more day. The bad part about this was that Nan was going to miss a day of work, which she hates (as I had mentioned earlier in the blog). Given that our selection of this tour and the travel dates were in part a function of Nan being able to miss a minimum of work (only two days), it is unfortunate that she was going to miss another day. The good part of this was that we got to have breakfast AND lunch with Windy and Len.

They checked out of the hotel and left their stuff in our room and we went (window) shopping and, a little while later, for lunch in the square. It was fun to walk around with no agenda, to just relax knowing that we had nowhere to be, nothing to ride, nobody that was wondering where we were. Motorcycle riding is fun, exhilarating, exciting and breath-taking. But it is also dangerous and scary, Mexico notwithstanding. One of the attractions of motorcycle riding is that it IS scary; think about riding on a ride at the midway: the reason you do it is because it is scary. Motorcycling is like that and even though the people that do it love it, it is also a treat to have a break from riding when the opportunity presents itself; both Nan and I have experienced it dozens of times.  So to have a day where there is NOTHING, no responsibility, is great.

When we were having lunch at the central square, we saw Lynn and Eric walking one of Lynn's dogs, Lucy. They joined us and Lynn invited us to have dinner with her, John and Eric that night. The irony is that we were going for dinner at Alex's: a Canadian owned, Italian restaurant in Mexico.

That is pretty much the end of the trip. On the flight home, we were at the airport in Guadalajara in plenty of time but getting to Houston, there was a mere one hour and forty minutes to make our connection. Sounds like a lot of time but there was only four border agents on duty for several plane loads of people and we barely made our connection. We only did because we RAN from customs to our departure gate, where the plane was already half boarded by the time we arrived. We ran straight into line and boarded.

In conclusion, I would say that I had several pre-conceived notions busted while we were in Mexico. I recognize that some reading this blog will have been to Mexico and know all about it but as a Mexico newbie, I had a pleasant surprise about what Mexico has to offer.

Certainly, many people worried about what crime we might encounter, like "the cartels" or being robbed while out riding. I don't want to suggest that I don't think that happens but we didn't see anything that would suggest there was undue risk in the areas where we were travelling. Stories we heard about travellers running into travel were often situations where there were one-off circumstances, such as people travelling on the highway at night. Like anywhere, I think the idea is to mitigate risk by chosing places and timing wisely. We found the people incredibly friendly and helpful, as well as generous. We had only great experiences and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Then, there was the issue of riding in Mexico. What had initially appeared to me to be "chaos" was in fact, "organized chaos". That Mexican drivers are attuned to passing, pulling over, seeing motorcycle riders, slowing down for topes and watching for people turning gave me confidence that, as wild as it looked, it was really far better than dealing with people texting, drinking coffee, putting on makeup or trying to be "first" in line. I still wouldn't drive in downtown Edmonton any sooner than I would drive in downtown Guadalajara.

It wasn't the best place in the world we have visited, but is has a great deal to offer. I am pretty confident in saying that I expect we will repeat our experience there, going back to motorcycle at some time in the future.  Between Nan and me, we have well over 1,000 pictures; feel free to contact us to see a few more.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for our next motorcycle adventure. Our plan is to ride around Lake Superior in September.

Howi

A few more pictures, courtesy of Nan Spragins

Nan left me for another man!

For our final day of riding, we were once again riding up into the hills. The hills are not like the Rocky Mountains, but people in the area think of the hills as mountains. That’s o.k., we make do with what we have and people of the area embrace it. 

This is not the twisties ride that we have had for the last two days, though. This is more sweeping, open arched curves that are not quite the challenge for skill riding as we have just been riding. That’s o.k., too. Even Eric, the consummate rider of the group, gets pleasure from it, though I don’t think anybody had the adrenaline rush that we have had for the last two days. 

Still, it is a great day of riding. We head up to a town called Mazamitla, which is a popular destination for tourists from Guadalajara. The architecture reminds me of being in a Swiss village, high up in the mountains, with an extraordinary number of churches. We have two objectives: to see the central square, where there is a big cathedral, and to get a decent cup of coffee.  Oddly enough, good coffee has not been all that forthcoming in Mexico. Not to suggest in any way that it doesn’t exist, but it is not part of the culture as it is in North America or Europe so what gets passed off as coffee sometimes is not.  In our hotel, for example (the number 1 rated hotel for Ajijic on Trip Advisor), what is served as coffee is Nescafe. They don’t even call it “coffee” when they offer it.  Even though Nan and I are great fans of good coffee, we have rarely had it on this trip because we have always had an agenda each and every morning; had there been a coffee shop between the hotel and Casa Sierra, we would have happily skipped coffee at the hotel to get one on the way to riding, but not the case. 

 After getting an excellent cappuccino and having a look around the square, we were off riding again and along the way, stopped at a spot popular for pelicans to winter. It just so happens that there is a fish processing plant on the lake and so the pelicans have easy access to the fish discards.  Not sure about the ecological soundness of this process but fish parts are dumped back into the lake; the smell was pretty strong and what pelicans remained – those too old or feeble to fly to Canada – gave only a passing interest in the fish parts floating near the shore.  

Notwithstanding, it is still a great day of riding, as has been every day.  Back in Ajijic, Len and I have asked John to lead us to the liquor store; we have decided to treat John and Lynn to a bottle of Champagne and a bottle of scotch to thank them for treating us so well over the course of the week. It had not been obvious to us before the trip that we would become part of a special fraternity on this trip: the first day we all went to dinner together. The second day (first day of riding) we swam in Lynn and John’s pool, drank their beer and then were served dinner cooked by Lynn (three hours in the kitchen) and John, (three minutes on the barbeque). But in fact, after EVERY day of riding, we drank their beer and swam in their pool. On the final night, we were once again treated to dinner cooked by Lynn.  There was a great deal of camaraderie and a big part of it was hanging around together after the day’s ride and talking about what we had seen. If the trip had been just about the ride each day and we dispersed at the end of it, we would not have made the friendships we did.  We have even made a commitment to meet up with Len and Windy from Vancouver to ride with them again. 

After a day of riding and night of frivolity, we get back to the hotel about 10:30 p.m. only to discover that our flight to Houston the following day is cancelled. It seems there are bad storms there with a lot of flooding and other nastiness. However, it is so late that by the time I figure out what numbers I should be calling to make alternate arrangements, everybody has gone home to bed, so we have to go to bed with our travel plans unresolved. Fortunately, I am able to cancel our trip to the airport for the morning, so nobody is going to waste their day. 

We get up early so that I can get on the phone first thing. Having a Mexican SIM card for my phone turned out to be a huge asset because I spent about a half hour on the phone, including internationally, which would probably have cost hundreds of dollars however, was all included in my “first month” of service.  The United Airlines agent on the phone was very helpful, looking for routing for us through Phoenix, Los Angeles, Mexico City, Vancouver  but we ultimately would have been getting home the following day, so we opted to spend that extra day in Ajijic and relax. With Windy and Len. Leading us astray. 

No, we are not riding through the Sahara. It is a road under construction.

That is Eric.This was one of the few times he wasn't clowning around.

This was the entrance into Mazamitla.

The town of Mazamitla was established before Canada was settled.

This is one, intimidating crowd of bikers.

This was a common sight all around where we travelled: families on motorcycles with no gear or helmets.We saw as many as four at a time, both parents and two little kids.

We made sure we did not pass on the right, this time.

It is a country of contrasts, which in many ways, added to its beauty.

On the way to Petatan, the location of the pelicans...and the fish plant. Note the "tile" road.

Though the road to Petatan was made of tiles, the roads inside the village were gravel.

Chuy is giving Nan some background on the area.

That's Len, the world famous "Doc Friday", radio personality.

Chuy, our illustrious sweep, though I think he is better described as "wing man".

This is Windy, best posture in the group. In this frame, she is actually riding Chuy's bike (Roxanne) because she was having a few issues with her fuel pump.

This is Brian, who was in the unfortunate position of living in Ajijic. Unfortunate becauses he didn't get to spend his evenings with us.

This is John, our esteemed leader. There is a picture of him in his office on a speed bike on the race track and on it is hand written "Can you believe this guy is 61?" The picture is of John on a corner with the bike leaning over so far it is amazing that the tires are holding. I once asked him about his race history and he told me that he was never very competitive because he started so late in life: age 48.

Near the end of our final ride, Nan abandoned me to ride with Eric because John was taking Len and me to the store, so Nan snapped this rare photo of me riding on my own. I had switched bikes with Eric that day, so I was riding a GS 700, which was easier for me to handle.

It never fails: Nan's back-of-the-helmet shot. She rode with Eric at the end when John, Len and I went off to the liquor store.I note that Eric didn't have any beef cake photos on the back of his helmet.

I'll wrap up the blog Friday.

h

Threading the needle

Witnessing the traffice while in Mazatlan, the prospect of riding in Mexico was somewhat daunting to me. And, to be truthful, I had not spent much time thinking about where our planned routes would be taking us but when we arrived and were handed our itinerary and intended routes, I did notice that one day would take us to downtown Guadalajara, Mexico's second biggest city with a population of five million people.

By design, that was Sunday and I suspect that the tour is in part arranged such that the Guadalajara day would be on a Sunday so that we would encounter the least amount of traffic. In fact, later, John had said that when he was planning out the routes, he had asked for the opinions of some riding friends and they all told him it was crazy to try to take gringos through Guadalajara.

For the Guadalajara day, we were instructed to be at Casa Sierra at 7:30 a.m. rather than usual 9:00 a.m. Since that is before breakfast is served at the hotel, John's wife Lynn prepares a continental breakfast so that we can get an early start and beat the traffic.

The ride into the city is fine, though it seemed to me a lot of traffic for early on a Sunday morning. We met Chuy en route because he lives not far from Guadalaja and to our pleasant surprise, he has brought his wife Marie along on the back of his bike.  Our objective is to get to the centre of the city so that we can see the central square, opera house, government buildings and some of the architecture there. Once we have had a look around, we are going to take a popular motorcycle road out to Los Burritos de Moyahua where dozens if not hundreds of bikers ride every Sunday. The road out is a gnarly, twisty snake of a road with 180 degree turns and switchbacks to put your heart in your mouth.


But, back to Guadalajara. One of the nuances of riding in Mexico (or driving for that matter), is knowing when to GO THROUGH RED LIGHTS and when to stop for red lights. Sounds simple enough but it is not like we know in Canada. It is a matter of prudence to always look around at every intersection and I always treat intersections at home like I DON'T have the right of way; someone else may have the stop sign but I always expect there will be a car going through the intersection. This is how I have stayed alive so far and friends of mine who have been riding for decades, for whom it is second nature, never seem to have to think about it but as a relatively new rider, I think about it almost every time. In Mexico, I am a freak.

I have already seen that posted signs or traffic signals have "interpretations" but riding into Guadalajara was time for me to put those rules into action. I was riding five position (out of seven bikes) right ahead of Eric and of course, Chuy and we approached an intersection where the light changed to yellow. I was slowing down in anticipation of the change to red and I heard Eric yelling at me. I wasn't sure what he was saying, though it sounded like "keep going" but I have been conditioned to stop in such circumstances. We were stopped for the red light and when it appeared that the coast was clear, Chuy inched ahead and then went through the RED light with Eric close on his heels, the obvious message being "keep up" because if I didn't, we would be left behind and lost in the centre of the big city. . Since I had already seen this to a degree, it was obvious what i needed to do.

The next intersection where the lights started changing, it was obvious what I needed to do. I was all prepared to zoom through the intesection on the red light but Chuy yelled "don't go" because in fact, it was not traffic interesection but a pedestrian intersection. There were no cars coming from either direction but walkers, joggers, bicyclers and all manner of people out for a Sunday stroll. Then I proceeded to get a lecture about the seriousness of breaking a red light.

I pretty much learned from that point on when to go through a red light and when to wait.

That is not the only kind of Mexican driving nuance to know. Riding through Guadalajara was a study of fitting five lanes of traffic into four. In the afternoon, we were riding the perimiter (ring) road which basically took us around the outside of the city. This was good because riding through the city might have been too tall an order. Traffic is busy. Really busy. Even though it is a Sunday, there are so many cars, trucks and motorcycles on the road, it is scary. HOWEVER, amazingly, traffic moves along. There was one point where several lanes of traffic on the left merged with some number of lanes of traffic on the right with no lights or controls (that I saw). From a distance, it would seem like a mess but it actually moved along o.k. I was on super high alert, my eyes fixated on the road, the rider ahead of me, keeping up with the group, keeping an eye out for the rider behind me, following or changing lanes as required, keeping our speed up and the distance between us and the bike ahead of us, without letting any traffic in between. I am even getting heart palpitations thinking about it right now but it is strangely exhilirating. Mexican drivers are used to motorcycles on the road and generally to making room for other vehicles. I can't believe the nunber of times that we have been on the road and vehicles ahead of us haver pulled over to make room for us. Another one is that sometimes, when there is NOT room for the driver to pull over to the right, they will turn on their LEFT signal to indicate that it is SAFE to pass. This all sounds so counter-intuitive to driving in Canada but the reality is that I actually think driving a motorcycle in Mexican traffic is safer than in Canadian traffic.

Take the "threading the needle" routine. (Mom, I'm sorry you have to hear about this while reading this blog.) Sometimes there are only two lanes of traffic, one each way. Everybody here drives at the rate at which they are most comfortable or safe, or to not damage their vehicle going over a speed bump. This means that it is much easier for a motorcycle to go faster than the other traffic, particularly over the topes. So, as a group of 7 mototcycles going faster than all the other traffic, we were often going around cars or trucks that were moving slower than us so that meant that we would be driving down the centre line passing cars on our right and at the same time, avoiding oncoming traffic on the left. Sometimes, there would be only a foot or two on either side. It sounds frightfully dangerous but it is common place down here so we made it commonplace for ourselves. It would not be fair to say that it is disorganized, haphazard or reckless but it is different that what we are used to doing at home. I have only to think about driving home on Anthony Henday each afernoon, having to spend 20 minutes in traffic that is crawling along only because traffic cannot merge together - not because of disruption or accident. I am resistant to riding in the city in Edmonton because I generally don't trust the drivers; Mexico really is safer.

So, the twisties out to Los Burritos de Moyahua are legendary. Since we are mere posers, by the time we are leaving Guadalajara and carving the turns, riders are already coming back, having spent their Sunday morning riding hard, having lunch, then riding hard home again. We see lots of people on sport bikes and a few on sport tourers or adventure tourers. People come out to ride the twisties as hard and fast as they can; the road is in generally good shape - not too many pot holes or bad spots so the only barrier is really the riders' own skill and experience. Our friends Windy and Len from Vancouver area are relatively new riders but there are crushing the curves. Chuy and his wife, riding behind us, hangs back; Nan and I are watching for them in our mirrors but we get ahead several curves so we pull over and wait for them to catch up, only a moment or two; it seems that Marie wanted an adrenaline rush so they were hanging back a little to allow them to speed through the curves to catch up.

Chuy and his wife, Marie. I meant to ask her if she calls him "Chuy" or "Jesus" (his real name).

Guadalajara is quiet early in the morning on a Sunday.

The burrito place. We missed the rush.

Returning through Guadalajara, before it got really busy.