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