Vagabiker

WBCDR - Washington Backcountry Discovery Route

vagabiker — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 21:50:15 +0000

I’ve been working closely with a team of individuals to create a new adventure motorcycling/4×4 route in Washington State: the Washington Backcountry Discovery Route or WBCDR. The concept is similar to the Oregon Backcountry Discovery Route (OBDR). We rode the OBDR last year, and produced a video about that trip.

The new route in Washington State will be a scenic, off-road tour of the backcountry between Oregon and British Columbia. The route winds it way north from Stevenson in the Columbia River Gorge through the western slope of the Cascade Mountains, crosses over to the east side and continues north to the border at Nighthawk. The total mileage is about 650 miles although that will be confirmed when we do a test ride of the entire route next week.

So far, we have been on several scouting trips on both adventure bikes and 4×4 vehicles. I’ve been documenting the trip with my new Sony EX3 XDCAM and will be producing a feature length documentary about the route later this year.

The project was started by Bryce Stevens (CoFounder of Trails.com) and Andrew Cull (CEO of Remote Medical Intl.), both of whom are adventure riders. The project is supported in part by the Overland Society, Touratech-USA, Rawhyde Adventures and Ride West/South Sound BMW.

Our goal is to create a route that will allow adventure riders and 4×4 enthusiasts to explore the scenic beauty of our state and encourage them to do so in an environmentally friendly way.

Sound Rider - Rally in the Gorge

vagabiker — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 21:35:09 +0000

I recently returned from filming the Rally in the Gorge for SoundRIDER! Below are a couple of videos that I made about the riders on the historic Mary Hill Loops Road.

The Maryhill Loops Road was the first paved road in the Northwest! It’s loaded with plenty of tight corners and no longer open to the public.

Yikes! Rotten Tire

vagabiker — Thu, 27 May 2010 22:00:30 +0000

So I’m getting ready to do a little Memorial Day ride this weekend to the Olympic Penninsula. It’s really the first multi-day ride of the season and probably the last ride I will take on the 650 since I’m getting a new bike very soon.

Anyways, I bought a new rear tire last fall and have not had the chance to change it yet, so I decided to do that today. I was able to get the job done by myself in my back yard. It took me two hours to complete the job. It wasn’t pretty and I absolutely hate changing motorcycle tires but it’s good practice none the less.

The biggest surprise was the condition of my old rear tire. I knew it was at the end of its life but not this bad! Its a good thing I changed it before heading out this weekend.

GlobeRiders - Live Journals

vagabiker — Mon, 10 May 2010 00:59:20 +0000

My friend and adventure riding partner Helge Pedersen of GlobeRiders recently returned from a three month odyssey to South America. He was riding a brand new BMW R1200 GS Adventure, donated by BMW and Ride West Motorcycles of Seattle, WA. As is the custom with tech-savvy adventure riders, Helge Pedersen and his cohorts (four in total) documented the journey with pictures and stories. You can read more about their trip by looking at the Live Journal section of the GlobeRiders website.

GlobeRiders began creating “Live Journals” of all of their motorcycle rides around the planet in 2005. A Live Journal is a repository of stories and pictures contributed by riders in the field, while they are on a tour. I participated in two of them myself, including the Silk Road Adventure (2005) and the Indochina Expedition (2007). All of the participants on GlobeRiders tours are encouraged to write about their experiences on the road, and the Live Journal is the place where those stories and pictures live on the internet.

Now, five years after the first Live Journal was published, the GlobeRiders website is fast becoming a veritable warehouse of adventure motorcycling stories and photos. Have a look but be warned: if you like reading about motorcycle adventure touring and seeing good photos, you might not stop reading for a very long time because there is a lot of content.

OBDR in Road Runner Magazine

vagabiker — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 01:07:08 +0000

Got my hands on the latest issue of Road Runner Magazine. The February 2010 issue has an eight page spread on our Oregon Backcountry Discovery Route expedition that we did this last July. Paul Guillian from Touratech-USA wrote the article, with pics from Helge Pedersen.

Man, that was a fun ride, right here in our own back yard.

Here’s a link to the Road Runner website with the OBDR video I produced:

Oregon Backcountry Adventure

OBDR Photo Gallery

F800 GS DVD Reviews

vagabiker — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 01:02:06 +0000

It’s always nice to see reviews of products that I have worked on for many months, especially when they are favorable :-)

Here are two of the latest reviews of the GlobeRiders BMW F800GS Instructional DVD.

“Whether you own an F800GS, want an F800GS or just appreciate the GlobeRider productions for what they are, this one is worth getting.”

Web Bike World Review

“Production values are very good, navigation is simple, and the information is invaluable to anyone wanting to see the world from the saddle. If shooting for the far-off horizon aboard BMW’s F 800 GS is a current or potential project, this instructional, two-disc DVD is a great addition to your library.”

Road Runner Magazine Feb ‘10

Oregon Adventure Video

vagabiker — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 02:31:50 +0000

Oregon Backcountry Discovery Route

vagabiker — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 02:30:35 +0000

July 2009 - I just returned from a special Touratech-USA/GlobeRiders project that involved traveling the back roads of Oregon for eight days. My riding partners were Helge Pedersen (Founder, GlobeRiders), Tom Myers (Owner, Cycoactive/Touratech-USA) and Paul Guillien (General Manager, Touratech-USA). Our dual-purpose mission was to ride the Oregon Backcountry Discovery Route and test a bunch of motorcycle camping equipment like stoves, tents, walter filters, etc. Helge and I were also there to shoot video and take pictures of the trip for various media related projects. Here’s some pictures from the trip.

Getting ready for the trail ahead at our campsite near Walla Walla, Washington.

Helge Pedersen, the founder of GlobeRiders, is joining us for this short ride.

Paul Guillien is the General Manager at Touratech-USA and rides a GS650 X-Challenge

Tome Myers, the owner of Touratech-USA, prepared the route for us using a GPS and good old fashioned maps.

I'm traveling along as a videographer.

Were testing all kinds of motorcycling products like this GPS comparison between the Garmin 276 and the new Zumo660.

Tom Myers is riding the new BMW F800GS motorcycle which he called "the perfect bike" for this ride.

Paul is on the BMW 650GS X-Challenge loaded up with a larger gas tank, custom seat and the new Zega panniers.

Once every day or two we have to leave the trail and resupply in local stores along the way, usually stocked with a bare minimum of food and supplies.

Short stretches of pavement connect the long portions of dirt road that make up this challenging route.

A view of the terrain we are traveling across, a mixture of forest covered mountains and logging roads.

Helge found the best angle to shoot a picture at this location.

Long sections of the route consist of a maze of forest service roads.

Our best camping spot next to a river. The first chance for a bath in days!

We built a campfire every night and sat around the fire telling stories which is always the best part of the day according to Helge.

I'm riding the BMW R1200GS motorcycle and camping in a Bibler tent.

We stopped to look out over the mountains at all of the burned out forest, a common sight in many sections of the route.

It was really hot outside in the middle of the day, but not as hot as Seattle which experienced it's hottest day ever (105 degrees) on this day.

The scenery changes and we find ourselves traveling through a dense section of cool forest.

One of two river crossings we had to make on the ODBR.

I made the guys go stand on this little rock outcropping so I could shoot some video of the scene.

Cattle were a frequent sight on the dusty back roads of Oregon.

This bobcat is one of two that lives at the Bearcat Lodge in Seneca, Oregon.

The Bearcat Lodge is for motorcyclists and we stumbled upon it accidentally.

Owner J.W. Everitt has a thing for cats!

Happy to be back on the trail, so to speak, and heading off into the unknown.

A waterfall near Cove Palisades, a scenic destination for Oregonians.

You just can't beat a sunset like this one can you?

A few of our campsites were pretty primitive places without any kind of amenities at all.

After traveling through the desert of Eastern Oregon, the Cascade Mountains began to appear on the horizon.

We thought about wild camping near this small lake but the mosquitos were too bad.

We opted for this high meadow instead which was a good decision.

The final campsite of the trip and the last place to shoot all of the videos.

Is Tom ready to go back to the office and all of it's responsibilities?

The F800GS makes a good firewood hauler with the help of a couple of Rok Straps.

The biggest bummer of the trip for me - when my tubeless tire came off the front rim!

The bash plate was very effective and useful on this trip. Here it is being held on with bailing wire and a large zip tie after taking a few too many hits from logs and rocks.

Tom found a metal culvert pipe to hold the bike up on the center stand in order to remove the front wheel.

Riding with friends makes it easier when things go wrong. In this case, Tom is bringing the flat tire into town to get it fixed while we wait it out in the hot sun.

The homestretch! Back in Washington State heading through Mt. Rainier National Park

GlobeRiders F800GS Instructional DVD

vagabiker — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 07:42:54 +0000

I recently finished producing a new GlobeRiders instructional DVD. This time, the featured bike is the new BMW F800GS and Helge Pedersen goes over all of the things that you need to know about maintenance, modifications, repairs, accessories, etc. It has four hours of content including lessons on changing tires, fixing punctures, accessories, etc. Something new that we tried on this project was getting a lot of other riders involved. A total of six F800GS owners showed up with their bikes and went over all of the gadgets and accessories that they chose to add to their bikes. It made the whole project a lot more interesting and informative in my opinion. A great diversity of equipment was covered from a wide range of manufacturers. In fact, there were six different pannier setups featured. If you ride an F800GS and are looking into what accessories to buy, or if you just want to learn the basic skills you need to know before heading out into the back country, then this is the DVD for you.

Here’s the trailer:

Whew…

vagabiker — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 07:30:12 +0000

Wow, its been a productive spring and summer (so far) since I returned from Mexico. When I came home last spring in early March I had four big projects in front of me that I wanted to start working on, with the goal of finishing all of them by the end of summer.

The first project was an instructional DVD for Rawhyde Adventures, the official BMW off road academy in California. I filmed the material on my way down to Mexico (and more on the way home). Once back in Seattle, I started going through the footage and put together a one-hour instructional DVD based on the teachings at Jim Hyde’s school. As it stands now, we are waiting to see if there will be any sponsorship collaborations before we release the DVD. Jim is a busy man and it takes a lot of time to put together the marketing stuff, so the DVD is basically finished on my end and in a holding pattern for a while longer. But when it comes out, i;m sure it will be a successful product because the courses at Rawhyde are top notch.

The second project was the new GlobeRiders instructional DVD based on the BMW F800GS. When a new BMW adventure motorcycle comes out, it’s a chance for us to make a new DVD. So earlier this spring that’s what we did. Helge Pedersen, myself and a bunch of other F800GS owners got together and filmed the whole thing in a couple of weeks here in Washington state. I managed to get it all edited in about a month and the DVD was released earlier this year. It’s available from Touratech-USA, along with all of the other GlobeRiders DVDs.

The third project I wanted to finish was actually based on a ride I took in 2002 - the GlobeRiders World Tour. We filmed this 65-day, 11,000 mile ride and made some television stuff for BMW and Speed Channel back then, but we always had the intention of making a full length DVD/documentary in the future. After obtaining a small sponsorship to cover the costs of post-production (Touratech and Impact Video - Thank You!!!) we finished the movie last week. The new DVD is called GlobeRiders Eurasian Odyssey and it is 90 minutes long and available through Touratech as well.

The fourth project that I wanted to work on was, and is, editing my own Vagabiker Mexico Adventure which I undertook earlier this year. I have finally begun the editing process. I will be spending who knows how long going through every frame of the footage and concocting some kind of spell-binding (hopefully!) story from this footage.

It’s been a productive year so far. Life as an “independent” producer/filmmaker can be a challenge but it has it’s rewards as well. I always feel a sense of satisfaction after completing a big project and nothing makes me happier than staying busy doing something that I love to do.

Heck, I’ve even managed to go on a few good rides lately, but that’s another story.

Cheers.

Simon and Lisa Thomas in Seattle

vagabiker — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 17:35:55 +0000

Seattle, WA - (June 30, 2009) World-record setting motorcycle adventurers, Simon and Lisa Thomas visit Touratech to make some upgrades to their bikes before leaving for the next four years of their journey. The Thomas’ are 152,000 miles into a 10 year continuous motorcycle journey around the globe. After overhauling the bikes with the help of Touratech and BMW, both bikes are shipping to Japan this week.

From Japan the Thomas’ will venture into East Russia where they will traverse west to Siberia and Mongolia. They will then head South through the “Stans,” a group of countries bordering the Caspian Sea that include Kazakstan, Uzebekistan, Tajikistan and others. The final stage of this segment will take them back across the Southern part of the continent into the Far East.

Russia will be their 60th country in a quest to ride 122 countries. They left the UK in 2003 with nothing but their motorcycles, camping gear, and a dream. Simon has ridden the entire journey on a BMW R1100GS while his wife Lisa has been on board a BMW F650GS.

When asked what the defining moment of the journey has been, Lisa replied:

“We found ourselves in the middle of the Sahara Desert…and it’s then that you realize just how small and insignificant you are…You look around and realize that you are just a speck.”

In the beginning of 2009, Simon and Lisa surpassed the world record for the longest continuous motorcycle journey by a team. They have other goals in sight, including being the first team to ride on all seven continents. When people stopped by the Touratech showroom to look at the bikes, Simon and Lisa were both quick to point out that all of the original Touratech parts have withstood the rigors of the entire 152,000 miles ridden so far… a true testament to the quality, design and durability of Touratech products.

During their visit to Touratech we took a few minutes to speak to them about the Journey. Here are a few video highlights from the interview:

If you would like to learn more about Simon and Lisa’s travels you can view their website www.2ridetheworld.com

What’s Up

vagabiker — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 02:24:26 +0000

I’ve been really busy since I returned from Mexico in March. I am currently editing four different videos - an off-road riding instructional DVD for Rawhyde Adventures, a GlobeRiders instructional DVD for the new BMW F800GS, a GlobeRiders documentary about the World Tour 2002, and my own Mexico movie. It’s good to be busy and I am thankful for the work that I have in this downtrend economy.

This weekend we will be shooting the GlobeRiders F800 instructional DVD on the Kitsap Peninsula outside of Seattle, Washington. Helge Pedersen and a few F800 owners will be on hand to show how they have outfitted their own F800 motorcycles. I can’t wait for my own opportunity to ride the F800GS because it is the bike I am considering “upgrading” to in the future.

The Bonehead Enduro

vagabiker — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 02:16:43 +0000

Ahhhh… springtime in the northwest. That can only mean one thing: The Bonehead Enduro!!!

Each year, the Vintage Motorcycle Enthusiasts club in Seattle, WA puts on this crazy event. It is basically a scavenger hunt on vintage motorcycles. Old guys (and gals) and old bikes equals big fun in the mountains outside of Seattle, WA.

I went there this year on my 1968 Honda CT90 along with my friends Chris, Mark and Rashmi. It was a beautiful, sunny day and we had a blast off-road riding on the old machines.

My 1968 Honda Trail motorcycle

Chris P. on his old Honda motorcycle

Rashmi on her Yamaha XT 225

In honor of this event, here is a video that I produced from my first Bonhead Enduro ride, in 1998.

Carl Parker Solo China Ride with Video

vagabiker — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 19:30:21 +0000

Passing along a link here to another solo “vagabiker/videographer”. This guy’s name is Carl Parker and his ride is through Western China:

Carl Parker website

From the website : Several years ago long distance motorcycling completely changed my life as it has for so many others. When I moved to Western China I never guessed the amazing experiences this rugged and wild part of the world had in store for me. Photo and videography seem to me a natural way to share these experiences.

Motocyclops.com

From the website : With the pressures of daily “modern” living mounting every day, many people find they need a means to escape the clock-work madness and be in a place where time is the last thing on your mind. For many, travel is the way to do this and, for a small but highly dedicated community, motorcycle travel is the poison of choice.

The Cross Canada Project - A Bicyclist Vagabiker

vagabiker — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 16:17:44 +0000

You know, I think that there are a lot of similarities between people who like to bicycle tour and people who like to motorcycle tour. Both kinds of people, it seems to me, like to step outside of the ordinary circle of life and value the freedom, independence and responsibilities of life on the road.

In the Cross Canada Project, a different kind of two-wheeled vagabiker emerges - a bicyclist who rides across Canada and documents the entire journey on video. My kind of guy!

From the website:

“The Cross Canada Project” attempts to document the experiences of long-distance bicycle touring. Using a specially designed weatherproof camera mounted to his bicycle, Mike Beauchamp is able to film himself without interruption in all conditions as he attempts to ride his bicycle over 7000 KM across Canada from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean. Along the way he practices “stealth camping”, visits distant relatives, encounters strangers and other cyclists and explores abandoned houses. Set to an original soundtrack and using video diaries, recorded phone conversations and radio interviews, Mike illustrates the struggles of a touring cyclist and explores the vastness of the Canadian landscape… all for “something to do”.

Did I mention that the entire movie is online and free!

http://mikebeauchamp.com/crosscanada/watch.php

El Mundo en 2 Ruedas - The World on Two Wheels

vagabiker — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 16:10:28 +0000

Here’s a link to a website I was given about a guy who is leaving his home in La Paz, BCS, Mexico to travel around the world by motorcycle for two years:

The World on Two Wheels

His name is OSCAR AYALA MEZA and he will be riding a BMW F800GS. He plans to visit 80 countries in 3 years.

Good Luck! We’ll be watching you!

Mexico Route

vagabiker — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 20:53:00 +0000

Now that the journey is complete, here is the route that I took through Mexico. I crossed the border into Mexico at Tecate, and traveled the entire length of Baja California to Cabo San Lucas. Leaving from La Paz, I crossed by ferry to the Mexican mainland at Topolobombo/Los Mochis. Once on the other side, I explored the Copper Canyon area for two weeks before heading north and crossing the border at Nogales, AZ before continuing back home to Seattle, WA.

The Copper Canyon area of Mexico and the route I took.

More Race Pictures

vagabiker — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 20:10:27 +0000

Several women competed in the race while others came to watch.

I got used to seeing policemen with automatic weapons on the streets of Urique.

The event included music and dancing.

Many of the Raramuri runners wear tradition sandals even when they are running.

I found a spot to take some pictures of the runners as they go across a shallow river.

The Japanese man in the middle is Hiroki Ishikawa, who took second place overall.

Still wearing her skirt, this woman is half way through the race. Only 24 more miles to go!

Will Harlan from North Carolin took first place with a time of 6 hours and 38 minutes.

Arnulfo Quimare was the first Raramuri runner to cross the line. He won third place.

That's me, in the middle of the day, filming on the streets of Urique.

Copper Canyon Marathon Pictures

vagabiker — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 20:09:44 +0000

The start of the 2009 Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon in Urique, Chihuahua, Mexico.

Everyone in the town of Urique watch the racers as they go by throughout the day.

Tarahumari women wear colorful, full length, pleated skirts.

Cowboy hats or baseball caps are what the men seem to like.

Old and young, the Raramuri participants are all eager for the opportunity to compete and win corn.

Caballo Blanco - 2009 Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon

vagabiker — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 20:08:06 +0000

2009 Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon website

When I arrived in Urique for the second time, it felt like I was coming back “home” to my home in the canyon. I had been there a week earlier, a newcomer to Copper Canyon area, and now I was returning after my circumnavigation of the canyon area.

I arrived at Entre Amigos on a Friday afternoon, giving myself a full day of rest on Saturday before the big race, the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon, on Sunday. The race organizer, Micah True or “Caballo Blanco”, was busy taking care of all of the race participants, making sure that they had lodging and food before the race. In all there would be over 200 participants including 8 Americans, a French man and a Japanese man. The vast majority of runners were the Tarahumara (or Raramuri, in their language), the indigenous people who have been living, and running, in these canyons for centuries.

Saturday evening was a cultural celebration in the town plaza. Hundreds of people filled the square to socialize, listen to speeches and music and watch traditional cultural dances on the main stage. The town of Urique banned alcohol for two days, so it wasn’t a drunken celebration. Much rather, it was a simple, if not somewhat subdued, pre-party before the big race on Sunday. For myself, it was an opportunity to interact with the race participants and shoot some pictures of the local people. I had hoped that with such a big event in progress, I would be welcome to run around with my tripod and video camera, taking pictures of the event and the people who live here in the Copper Canyon. I wasn’t disappointed. With so many people in town for the race, and lots of other reporters, writers and cameramen, I was able to shoot freely and openly. The party ended a few hours after dark and I returned to my lodgings at the hostel outside of town to get a good nights sleep before the 7am start of the race.

The next morning brought all of the same people back to the town square for the start of the race. It began on schedule with more than 200 runners taking off in a large mass. The Tarahumara rushed ahead, with the gringo runners interspersed throughout the pack. For the rest of the day, these runners would be treading on roads and footpaths that I wouldn’t be able to see. No vehicles were allowed on the course, except for official and emergency vehicles, so I couldn’t “follow” them with my motorcycle. Fortunately for myself and the other observers of the race, the course was laid out in a way that brought the runners back through Urique a couple of times as they accumulated the 47 miles needed to finish the race. I did manage to walk out of town quite a ways on a couple of occasions to get some shots of the runners passing through different scenic locations of the canyon, including one section where they had to fjord a shallow river.

Throughout the day, as I shot footage, ate lunch, or relaxed at the hostel, I couldn’t help but think how the race participants were doing one thing: moving. All day long, in the stifling heat of the lower canyon, the runners were on the go. Some of them ran all day. Others walked part of the way, but they kept moving. It was the only way that they could hope to finish the race within the 12 hour cut-off deadline. Everyone who finished the race would win corn. The top 10 finisher would also win prize money totally several thousand dollars.

I couldn’t tell who was in the lead for most of the day. What really inspired me however, was noticing that there were several Raramuri women in the race. They were wearing their traditional pleated skirts, even in the marathon. Many of the Raramuri were also wearing huraches, sandals made out of recycled rubber tire treads with leather fastenings. Not surprisingly, most of the gringos favored their expensive, high-tech, running shoes.

I returned to the finish line after lunch, upon hearing that the first runners were due to finish shortly. The first person to cross the line was an American named Will Harlan, from North Carolina. His time: 6 hours and 38 minutes. Second Place went to Hiroki Ishikawa of Japan, who crossed the line with a time of 6 hours and 45 minutes. The first Tarahumara to finish, taking third place, was Arnulfo Quimare with a time of seven hours and five minutes.

By the end of the race, 105 people had crossed the finish line in the alloted time. One of the last runners to finish was 64 year old Tom Masterson. The “Mukiras” (Raramuri women) also finished, some of them going beyong the twelve hour time limit but finishing none the less.

All of the international winners gave their corn back to the Raramuri people and the first place winner, Will Harlan, even gave his prize money away to Arnulfo Quimare, the fastest Raramuri runner.

The entire event was, for me, a very powerful and rewarding experience. I was impressed with the endurance and stamina of all of the runners, particularly considering the challenging temperature. I was also impressed by how much support the event was given from the local community and the town of Urique. It was very well organized and clearly represents an important, if new, cultural tradition in the canyon.

With my documentation of the race complete, I was free to carry on my journey, and begin making my way back to the United States on my BMW motorcycle. I had been in the canyon area for two weeks, not enough time to learn everything there is to know about the depths of the Sierra Madre, but enough time to have a good “peek” into what life in the canyon is all about.

Thank you “Caballo Blanco” for organizing the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon and inviting me to particiapte in filming the event. Thank you, Urique, for making me feel welcome during my visit to your community. Thanks to all of the “gringo” runners for your courage to come to Mexico’s Copper Canyon to participate in the race and interact with the Tarahumara people. And finally, thank you, to all the Tarahumara people for the inspiration and images you have provided me with.

Sterling

Angels and Demons

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 18:39:43 +0000

I left Batopilas for the second time. This time I was alone. I decided to try the “high road” out of town, instead of the road we took yesterday. Apparently, that road wasn’t the right one and I should have turned right, immediately outside of Batopilas.

The track climbed quickly and I soon had commanding views of the surrounding canyons. The road divided in places and I had to guess which way was “correct”. I made my best guess and pressed on, hoping that I would be able to reach the bridge at Tubares where I was one week ago. Once there, I was sure of the track back to Urique.

Soon I am very high once again.

Like a good mule, my faithful companion has no problem scampering up and down the canyon roads.

As I made my way up and down the steep canyon roads I realized that this would be one of my last significant days of riding in the Copper Canyon. Today’s passage from Batopilas to Urique would “close the loop” and my circumnavigation of the canyon area would be complete.

Which way do I go now?

Removing some of the dust from my bike, I fjord a shallow river on the way to Tubares.

I wasn’t out of the woods yet, however. The navigation was tricky, there were rivers to cross (only one, as it turned out) and the threat of being hassled by local “narcos” was always on my mind.

As I traveled alone through this strange country I began to think about the dangers that were always lurking in the back of my mind. For almost a month now, I had been traveling alone in Mexico, on a motorcycle. In the beginning I was repeatedly warned about interacting with the local people. “Just let them go about their business and you go about yours”, was one piece of advice I was given. “If they stop you and want you to smoke marijuana with them, do it.” was another pearl of wisdom I picked up from somebody.

Looking down on the bridge at Tubares.

I began to realize that no matter how uneventful and safe the actual course of my journey had been, I always managed to entertain fantasies about what “could” happen to me in the worst of circumstances. These little vignettes were always playing in the back of my mind, kind of like perverse cartoons, or the angels and devils on my shoulders. After making it through a particular section that I imagined would be really dangerous, my mind would immediately transfer all of its fears to the next section. When I first entered Mexico, I thought for sure there would be armed bandits waiting to take away my money on the other side of the border. When that didn’t happen, I began to think that they were hiding in the woods, just a little ways past the border. When they weren’t there, I thought perhaps they were on the highway, where there are more opportunities for mischief. On and on it went, these strange little caricatures of Mexican hooligans out to get me, waiting around every corner. Eventually they faded away in Baja, once I really got moving, but they came back again in the Copper Canyon. For sure, the Sierra Madre has some wicked shit in store for me, I thought. If I’m going to have any problems, it’s going to be here.

After a while I didn’t try to fight these fantasies anymore. I just learned to let them come and go at will. I would watch their scenarios involving my own personal destruction and mildly laugh at myself. I realized that if I didn’t spend any energy fighting them I could go about the actual business of dealing with reality, which wasn’t at all as bad as I imagined it would be.

Case in point: I’m almost to Tubares now, a place that for some reason put the fear of god into me one week ago when I passed through there for the first time. Now, it feels completely different. I am coming to a place that I have been before. I know what to expect. Nothing bad happened to me the last time….

Wham! A big rock. I fall down hard. The bike is in the ditch. I extract myself from under the machine. It happed quickly. Just like that. Snap! One minute I am riding and the next minute I am not. I get up and feel okay. I start to remove the luggage. This is going to take a while, I tell myself. There is no rush. I am calm. I have fallen over before. I have no more fear, even when a pickup truck approaches me. Young men. Two in the front. Several in the back. They see what happened. I am down. My bike is down. My gear is spread out all over the place – luggage, cameras, water bottles, tripod…. They could have it all, it would be so easy. Out here in the wild back roads of the Sierra Madre nobody would know what happened to me.

In the ditch one last time.

I'm not too proud to ask for help anymore, when a truck of young men pass by.

I talk to them in Spanish, laughing at my predicament and myself. I am so bold as to even ask them if they can help me get my bike out of the ditch. “Es pesado”, I say. It’s heavy.

The big guy in the passenger seat gets out of the truck first. His companion joins him. They heave and heft my bike back to stable ground. I shake their hands. Thanks you, I say. Gracias. Just before driving off they give me a cold can of juice and wish me luck.

These are the actual people I met on the road, not the people I feared. I’m almost out of here now and on my way home. I just have to get to Urique.

It just doesn't get any bigger than this.

The Battle of Batopilas

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 17:46:54 +0000

The road from Creel to Batopilas is paved a good portion of the way. It travels through the high canyon country among pines and strange rock formations. It’s an easy, high speed road with lots of curves and pleasant scenery. After turning from the main road, I got on the dirt road that would lead me back down into the canyon for a second time. This time, my destination was Batopilas, another small community located deep down in the canyon. It took me much longer to get there than I anticipated and it was almost dark when I rolled into the city.

I couldn’t find my riding companions as I winded my way through the narrow streets of this city laid out along the river. There were many people out and about, walking on the streets, driving trucks, sitting in their doorways, etc. I found a good hotel with a nice courtyard and decided to spend the night there. The owner’s daughter was in the courtyard doing her homework and we chatted for quite a while before I went to sleep in Batopilas.

The next morning I woke up and drove a short distance outside of the city to Satevo, a place where there is an old mission church that is currently being restored. Even though it was early morning, it was already getting very hot outside. I decided to go back to Batopilas and explore the city and relax for the day. John and Kevin managed to spot my motorcycle while I was checking out another hotel in the center of town. We agreed to spend another night in Batopilas and head out the next morning.

We left Batopilas with the intention of heading further down the road past Satevo, with the goal of making it back to Urique before dusk. In this fashion, I would be able to make a loop of the canyon area, without having to back track from Batopilas to Creeel, Divisidero, Cercocahui and finally Urique. From the beginning, it was my goal to find some kind of a route where this would be possible, and this would be the final track to complete the circuit.

It didn’t turn out to be that easy, however. The road beyond Satevo was a real mess, full of loose stones on steep hills. We passed a pickup truck that had went off the road the night before. It became apparent pretty quickly that we had our work cut out for us. And the temperature was climbing. By 9am it felt like it was already pushing ninety degrees or warmer.

My riding partners on their 650 GS motorcycles were a wild card for me. I didn’t know what kind of riders they really were, or what they were capable of. This was the first time that I had “invited” anyone to ride with me for the day on my entire journey. In fact, this was the first time that I had even met any GS riders out in the back country, so to speak. Nonetheless, I welcomed their companionship as we continued to slowly make our way past Satevo into the hinterlands of the canyon.

John fell over a few times when other vehicles approached us or passed us. His bike, with a modified seat, was just a little too tall for him and he couldn’t firmly plant his feet on the ground. Kevin took a small tumble in a riverbed crossing and I had to help John get his machine up the hill on the other side. After a considerable amount of time making slow progress, we made out way about 20 miles beyond Batopilas and started having difficulty with the route. The road was dividing and we didn’t know which way to go.

We stopped at a small ranch and attempted to get directions from a young woman who lived there. All we could understand was that it was impossible to get to Tubares, and Urique, from the road we were on. She kept saying “Mineral Palenque”, referring to a mine or something that was further down the road we were on.

We pressed on down a road that turned into a two-track going deeper into the desert. The scenery closed in on us, and vegetation started to crowd the track. We rounded a corner and met a truck with some guys out working. What were they doing? Were they tending to their crop? We didn’t see any marijuana plants growing but felt like they could be very near to us. In any case, the men advised us that it was not possible to continue further down the road we were on. As soon as they left, John managed to send his motorcycle the wrong way over a large rock and ended up firmly on the ground one more time. This time he completely destroyed his fairing. Dejectedly, we turned around and decided to head back to Batopilas one more time. Maybe we could get some better information about the supposed road from there to Urique.

The way back was every bit as hard. We were all getting very tired. John was approaching heat exhaustion from trying to keep his motorcycle upright over the loose rocks. Kevin and I were doing our best to help him pick up his bike after each fall. At one point, he fell over immediately after getting on his bike, without even going anywhere. Now it was clerlhy a battle to get back to Batopilas in the raging heat. I fell over in the river wash myself, after helping John get his bike through. And my bike fell over by itself one time when the kickstand wasn’t firmly planted on the ground. I lost a mirror and a turn signal on that one.

I wondered how this road would have been if I had been by myself? Would I have continued on and made it, alone, just as I had been doing every day until this point? Was it a bad choice to ride with these two companions? I can’t say that they were bad company. Despite the challenging conditions and heat, they both gave it their best shot and did what was necessary at the time. Although John was really having a tough go out of it, he managed to get back on his bike after every fall and keep pressing on. Not bad for a fellow in his 60’s. I hope I can do the same in another twenty years myself.

We made it back to Batopilas in the afternoon, worn out and in need of some cold beer. By the time the sun was going down we were all sitting around the table drinking and laughing, already turning the negative experience into something positive. We had certainly lived the GS lifestyle that day.

Creel, The “Hub” of the Copper Canyon

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 06:05:23 +0000

I left Urique a day later than I anticipated. Riding back up the spectacular cliff edge road, the temperature gradually dropped until once again I was at 6,000 feet of elevation in the cool and refreshing pine forests. I went back through Cerocaui, and found roads that took me to San Rafael, where the pavement began again. A short while later I stopped in Divisidero, where the Chihuahaua Pacifico (called the “Chepe”) train stops so that the visitors can get off the train and see a view of the canyon below. The train ride itself is supposed to be quite spectacular as it traverses the canyon country across a number of bridges and through many tunnels. Ironically, the stop at Divisidero is the only place where the train riders can actually see the canyon itself. It only stops for twenty minutes and I witnessed the parade of tourists get off the train, run through the gauntlet of Tarahumara Indians selling their crafts, take a few pictures of the canyon and then get back on the train and leave. I felt like my own experience was the inverse of theirs. While they had been spending all of their time onboard the train, with just twenty minutes to see the actual canyon itself, I had been spending all of my time in the canyon, and had just twenty minutes to see the train.

As I was getting ready to depart by motorcycle, I met a couple of other GS (BMW Motorcycle) riders who down in the area riding around and exploring on their own. John and Kevin were from Arizona, and each one had a BMW F650GS motorcycle. They told me where they were staying in Creel, and I agreed to look for them when I arrived. My motivation now was to get to the city of Creel, which is sort of the “hub” for the Copper Canyon area, and look for a new battery.

The asphault was smooth and twisty on my way to Creel, a distinct contract from the roads I had been used to. When I arrived in Creel, I found the hotel that was recommended and made my accommodations for the evening. A local Mexican man called his friend, a cab driver, to help me get around town in search of a battery. It wasn’t a problem and I was able to purchase a new one at an auto parts store. The only problem was that it wasn’t charged yet, and nobody had a charger. My cab driver friend thought he knew someone who had a charger so we went off in search of it. After driving around to an assortment of friends and relatives houses, we were having no luck. I had a new battery that was worthless. I went to bed that night wondering how I was going to find a battery charger the next morning.

When I woke up the next morning, the hotel owner told me that he had a charger in the small building that was right next to my room. I immediately found it and hooked it up to my battery, after adding the sulfuric acid that came in a small plastic container with the battery. Whew! Now all I had to do was wait a few hours and I would be good to go. Not so fast… When I went to install my new battery I realized that the battery terminals were reversed on the new one, which meant that I had to put it in backwards in order to attach the positive and negative cables correctly. It didn’t fit right, but I managed to get the cables connected and it started right up.

Kevin and John had already departed for Batopilas that morning and I agreed to look for them when I arrived later in the day.

It’s all downhill from here…

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 05:30:27 +0000

I left San Isidro Lodge bound for Urique, one of the small towns located in the bottom of the canyon. When I turned the key in my ignition, there was not even a sound. My battery was completely dead. No surprise there. A couple of days ago it started giving me problems. I found out that all of the water in the battery had evaporated or somehow been expelled. Maybe it came out when I fell over and the bike was lying on its side. Even though I added new water, it was just a matter of days before the battery decided it wasn’t going to work any more. I managed to push start my motorcycle with the help of others and descended into Urique, knowing that I could use the steep grade to get another rolling start each time I stopped to take pictures. That worked great as I went down into the canyon, but how I would be able to get back out again, once I was at the bottom?

Even though I had heard about the spectacular road going down to Urique, I wasn’t really impressed until I was standing there myself, looking out over the canyon from the thin strip of dirt that hugs side of the mountains. This is the main road into town, so to speak, an impossibly constructed dirt track that twists and winds it’s way for some twenty kilometers down into the canyon. The descent is steep and several thousand feet of elevation are given up in the process. As one goes lower into the canyon, the temperature rises and the actual climate itself changes. At the top there are pine trees and cooler temperatures. As one goes lower, the pine trees are replaced by flowering, tropical plants. At the bottom, the Urique river flows through the canyon and small town of Urique itself is laid out for a few kilometers, next to the river.

I stayed at a place called Entre Amigos, a hostel run by an American named Keith. It’s just outside of town, up the river. Over the course of thirty plus years, Keith and his companions have created a fine sanctuary for road weary travelers who find themselves ending up in Urique. In addition to his own living quarters there are private rooms available, along with a communal sleeping room, kitchen, dining room, bathroom and shower. The whole property is fenced and gated, and feels quite safe and secure. While I was there, Keith spent a lot of time tending to the various plants and vegetables that were growing. He had quite a garden and I could see a lot of fresh garlic on the way, along with other things.

I met another person staying at the hostel, a man named Micah True. He is also called Caballo Blanco which means “White Horse” in Spanish. Micah spends half his year in Batopilas and other half outside of Boulder, Colorado. He was in Urique because he is the founder and organizer of the Caballo Blanco Ultramarathon which is held in Urique. It’s a 75km (48 mile) ultramarathon and one of the largest events/celebrations in Urique every year.

Micah invited me to stay and film the race which would be held the following weekend. He told me about the Tarahumara Indians who come to participate in the race. They call themselves “Raramuri” which means “fast runner” in their language. They are known as being some of the best ong distance runners in the world and he organized the race as a way of encouraging them to keep their tradition of running alive. I told Micah that I would consider returning to Urique to film the race, but first I had some exploring to do in the canyons.

I intended to leave Urique the following morning but wasn’t able to do so. I spent the night in and out of the bathroom, feeling rather sick for the first time on this expedition. The next morning, I was too exhausted to do anything but lay in bed. The heat outside of my bunkhouse was just too oppressive, and my entire body ached. I guess I just ate or drank something that my body did not like so I decided to take a day off and recuperate before push staring my bike and heading back up in elevation to the rim of the canyon.

Ready to begin the descent into the 6,200 foot deep Urique canyon.

My first view of the big canyon, with the town of Urique at the bottom.

The road appears and disappears in the distance.

There are many steep edges with no guardrails.

Crosses like this one are seen frequently on the dangerous roads in the canyon. I've seen just as many, however, on Mexican highways.

It's entirely possible to drive right over the edge.

Like a Mexican "Shangri-La", the isolated, bottom-of-the-canyon town of Urique has an aura of appeal and mystery

Keith's hostel in Urique is like an oasis of serenity and peace.

The vegetable garden was really taking off when I arrived.

I was invited to eat all of the fresh lettuce that I could. Keith even told me to take some of it with me into town, to the restaurant. "They'll make a salad for you", he said.

Micah True, also known as "Caballo Blanco", is a respected part-time resident of the canyons and founder of the ultra-marathon that bears his name.

The center of Urique will be hustling with activity in one week when the ultra-marathon takes place here.

Into the Copper Canyon

admin — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 04:37:15 +0000

In my last post I was just preparing to enter the Copper Canyon area of Chihuahua Mexico for the first time. I was nervous and apprehensive about what might lie ahead. Would my motorcycle make it through the rugged roads ahead? Would I encounter any problems with the people I met along the way? Would I be able to continue filming my journey in an area that is known to be populated by drug traffickers? All of these fears were real as I left El Fuerte and began riding east into the hills that would become the Sierra Madre Mountains.

My first glimpse of the Sierra Madre mountain range to the east.

My first day of riding in the Copper Canyon brought me from the fine city of El Fuerte to Cerocaui. Highway construction crews were working on the road into the canyon area. I’m told that they are making the road wider and continuing to add new sections of pavement between El Fuerte and points east. Somewhere around the town of Choix the pavement ended and the road became dirt for good. I wouldn’t see another stretch of pavement for days, until I reached San Rafael on my way back out of the canyon.

There is a lot of mining activity in the mountains of the Sierra Madre around the Copper Canyon. Large trucks carrying their loads of rocks and minerals were my only companions on these roads. I passed several of these trucks as I ascended the track up into the mountains. The road from Choix took me to Tubares, where a large bridge crosses one of the area’s rivers. I saw a Dodge Hummer parked on a hill near the side of the road, along with several pick up trucks. A few more trucks, and people, were parked under the bridge near the river. I kept moving, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as I made my way into the canyon lands.

A nice view of the river before Tubares where I saw two helicopters parked down on the riverbed. Looking for drug growing operations perhaps?

Roadside shrines like this are popular wherever there is a prominent rock outcropping near the road.

A little while later, just before the small village of Piedras Verde, I saw a lone figure standing prominently on a large rock above the road. He was wearing a cowboy hat and a mask that covered his face. In his hands was what appeared to be a shotgun or a rifle, I couldn’t be sure. But he was clearly watching my progress as I rounded the corner. I waved to him, and he didn’t respond. I was a little nervous as I continued further, not sure if he was a lookout for some devilish bandits around the next corner.

Big mining trucks carrying heavy loads crush all of the loose rocks on the roads, creating a thick bed of dirt, sand and dust.

By late afternoon I reached Cerocahui, where I was able to purchase some gasoline and rest underneath the shade of a large tree in the town’s square. I found a nice place to stay that evening, the San Isidro Lodge, thanks to a recommendation from Ivan of The Three Amigos in El Fuerte. Mario, the owner of the lodge, gave me a deal on a room, which included a fine vegetarian dinner and breakfast. I met another couple from Austria who were traveling through Mexico with their young son and seven month old daughter. They had been on the road for three months already. My helmet goes off to them for their courage to travel through Mexico with two young children.

A view of the road near Piedras Verde, on the way to Cerocaui

Looking down on Cerocahui which lies approximately 6,000 feet above sea level.

My room at the San Isidro Lodge in the pine forests near Cerocahui

A recent article in the National Geographic magazine highlights the Tarahumara indians who live in the Copper Canyon area.

The first Tarahumara I saw was this one, painted on the wall.

Riding Across Sinaloa

admin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:04:23 +0000

Heading east into the Mexican mainland, the first things I noticed were the smells. I could smell the produce coming out of the earth. I could smell the things that were burning along the side of the road. Factories. Agriculture. Industry. This was an active corridor of growth and production. Commerce was alive and well and people were moving about, hauling things back and forth, working in the fields, or standing along the side of the road. In many ways it reminded me of traveling through China. I experienced a similar sense of people involved in working over the land, and manufacturing things.

I always enjoy traveling through parts of the world where I see people engaged in work that is easily understood and the purpose of their labor is readily apparent. Back home in my own country’s “information economy” it’s often difficult for my peers to explain what they do for a living. They work in offices, in front of computers, following orders that come down through a complex chain of command. If you don’t work with them in the same company, it’s difficult to understand the purposes or process of what they actually do for a living.

In an agricultural economy, it’s much easier to understand what a person is doing to get by. You just have to look. One person is in a field planting something. Another person is loading up a vehicle with some kind of produce. Another person is gathering wood by the side of the road. Somebody else is hauling something. Everything is immediately apparent and comprehendible, more or less.

The road continued east away from the Los Mochis. Distant hills became larger and then receded once again in my rear view mirror. I passed vehicles that were too overloaded to maintain the kind of speed I was capable of on my BMW. I stopped along the side of the road to take a picture of a sign announcing that I was in Sinaloa. I liked the sound of that name; Sinaloa. Even though I probably heard it before, it was suddenly more real now that I was there. What was once just the name of a distant place was now the place for me, and my motorcycle.

I made it to the city of El Fuerte before noon. It was hot outside, and I realized this as soon as I turned off my bike and felt the lack of air blowing past me. I drove into the center of the old city, which contains several blocks of beautiful old buildings including cafes, restaurants and shops. The city was far more graceful and charming than I expected it to be. In the center of town is a plaza, lined with trees and an old fort, hence the name El Fuerte. I spotted several signs for the “Three Amigos”, a tourist company that I had heard about before coming here. I decided to look them up and see if they had any information they could give me before I headed further inland to the Copper Canyon.

If you ever need a good source of information about things to do and see in the Copper Canyon, stop by the Three Amigo’s office in El Fuerte and see Ivan and Yolanda. They were very gracious with their time and knowledge, and helped me orient myself as to where to go, what to see, etc. They speak English and have detailed maps about the roads through the canyon.

Arrival in Topolobompo - Mainland Mexico, Sinaloa

admin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:02:11 +0000

I left La Paz onboard the ferry bound for the other side of the Gulf of Mexico. It was 3p.m. I would be landing in the Mexican state of Sinaloa at 9 o’clock in the evening, well past dark. This was not something I was looking forward to. In the same way that I was nervous before entering the Mexican state of Baja California, I was a little bit apprehensive about this next leg of my journey. What would mainland Mexico hold in store for me? How would it be different than what I had already experienced in Baja?

Securely fastened for the six-hour trip across the Sea of Cortez, or Gulf of Mexico

The ferry left the dock on time, or shortly thereafter. Onboard were some few hundred souls, mostly Mexican, including a lot of truckers. From what I could gather, most of the semi trailers were empty. The greater amount of commerce flows into Baja, not out of it, and these truckers had delivered their cargo and were now proceeding back to the Mexican mainland with their empty rigs. The bar onboard the ship was full of these truckers. After delivering their loads, they were getting loaded.

The ferry is loaded with mostly empty semi-trailers returning to the mainland after delivering their cargo in Baja.

I managed to find a quiet spot in one of the TV lounges, entertained as much by the children crawling underneath my seat as the American movies with Spanish subtitles. In addition to the bar and television lounge, there was a restaurant, a small video game arcade and ample deck space outside to watch the sun go down over the ocean.

We arrived on schedule at the other side of the water in a city named Topolobompo, which is really just the ferry terminal, some fishing docks and a port. The main city of Los Mochis is a few kilometers away towards the east. I wasn’t looking forward to the road ahead in search of a hotel in the darkness. Too many people had warned me against driving in Mexico during the night. Nonetheless, there was nothing I could do except turn on my headlight, start my engine and head into the darkness, in search of accommodations.

Just a few miles after I left the ferry terminal I was cruising down the highway when I spotted a couple of compounds that looked promising. I saw a sign on one of them, “Popeye’s” by name, indicating that rooms were available for 120 pesos, which is less than 10 dollars. I felt very lucky to have found accommodations so quickly. I will now attempt to describe the experience of staying at “Popeye’s” that evening.

From the outside it looks like a storage rental facility, the kind that we have in the United States, where there are several rows of numbered cubes that each have a large “garage door” on the outside. After pulling into the well-lit main entrance I was met by an attendant on a bicycle who directed me to one of these “garage doors”. After opening it, there was indeed a garage big enough to hold a car or a truck – certainly a safe and secure place to put my motorcycle. I could see another door on the far wall, with a window next to it. That door lead to a room was a bed, a bench, a sink, and a strange metallic pole in the middle of the room. There was a bathroom in an adjacent room.

Looks clean enough.

The pole in the middle of my room.

When I inquired about the price I was informed that it was “by the hour”, not for the whole night. However, I could indeed stay there all night if that was what I wanted, for double the price, which was still less than $20. Then it dawned on me. I realized I was in one of Mexico’s red-light “hotels” where discreet men bring their secret companions, mistresses, hookers or whatever. What the hell, I thought - it’s a room with a garage and a night watchman just outside. What more could I ask for? I certainly didn’t want to get back on the road in the dark in search of an ordinary hotel when I had just what I needed right there.

So I paid my bicycle riding friend what he asked for, let him write down the number of my license plate, and ordered a couple of Tecate beers in lieu of a proper dinner. It was all I could ask for.

A little bit later, once nestled into my room, other details began to emerge: a strange looking revolving shelf in the wall, the mysterious metal pole in the center of the room and a tissue dispenser mounted on the wall next to the bed.

Suddenly there was a knock on the wall and a voice coming from the other side of the revolving hole in the wall. It began to turn and my cold beers arrived through this mysterious portal. I never saw the face on the other side and he never saw mine. Just what a discreet gentleman prefers.

This little door revolves and your order magically appears in you room.

I kicked back and turned on the television: Static. Static. Porn. Only five channels worked. Two of them were porn. Later in the evening when I head similar noises coming from the room next door, I wasn’t sure if it was from my neighbor’s television or a live performance.

The next morning I woke up early, happy to see that I had suffered no grave misfortunes during the night. I got on my bike and headed inland.

La Paz final pictures

admin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 20:52:20 +0000

Almost one month in Mexico before my first shot of tequila. Thanks, Finn!

A happy fish vendor inside one of La Paz's bountiful markets

The policemen, and women (on the right), ride Suzuki V-Strom motorcycles in La Paz.

The building where you can purchase your ferry tickets for mainland Mexico.

Leaving Baja

vagabiker — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 17:36:33 +0000

It looks like I must have accidently deleted this original post so here goes again…

I am currently in La Paz and heading out on the ferry tomorrow for Topolobombo, on the other side of the Sea of Cortez. I will be continuing my solo motorcycle adventure through Mexico, this time passing through the Copper Canyon area before returning to the states.

I left Seattle on January 20th, the day the President Obama was inaugurated into the oval office. After a week of traveling through the Western U.S., I arrived at Tectate, CA and crossed the border into Baja California, where I have been on the road ever since.

Well not really. I have actually been here in La Paz for the last week, which is to say I haven’t been moving much, just taking care of business, getting some work done on my bike (carbs cleaned) and relaxing a bit with my cousin Andy who lives down here some of the time. La Paz is a wonderful city, one of my favorites. It has a very pleasant, laid-back atmosphere in contrast to say, Cabo San Lucas…. Well, see the video above for more information on that subject.

While here I have been able to edit and upload several new videos. Each one of them is just a little slice of life on the road, solo-motorcyclist style. I hope that you can watch and enjoy a few of them.

I’m now ready for the adventure to continue, to get back on the road by myself and head into new territory. Ironically, my last night here in la Paz I met a couple of other BMW riders who also contribute quite frequently to ADV Rider, an internet forum for adventure riders around the world. One of them rode down here from Chicago. He was a nice guy, Finn, who even gave me an extra thermal shirt for my ride into the higher elevation of Copper Canyon.

I’m ready to get back to life on the road. I miss my friends back in Seattle and my girlfriend most of all, but it will still be a couple of weeks before I am home. The adventure goes on.

Sterling

A friendly face in Cabo San Lucas

Baja Route

vagabiker — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 05:52:06 +0000

Here’s a quick snapshot of the route I took through Baja. it was made using the Garmin Road Trip software which is the Macintosh version of Map Source. I used a Garmin Zumo everyday on this trip as a navigational device and to save all of my tracks.

11 Days of Riding. Just over 100 miles/day average

To La Paz

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:42:45 +0000

I woke up in the desert nervous about my ability to do battle with the road once again. I did not have a choice, however, so I packed up all of my gear and pushed my back onto the rough road. It was exactly the same as before but a good deal of my strength had returned and I was refreshed enough to keep going over the challenging and loose boulders. Within a couple of hours I found myself arriving at a crossroads. The new road was in far better condition due to the fact that it was used far more frequently. In one direction it lead to Loretto, my intended destination. The other direction lead to Mission San Javiar, supposedly one of the most spectacular of Baja’s many remaining old missions. I decided that it would important to visit at least one mission on this trip and could not pass up the opportunity to travel a short distance out of my way to see one of the best.

The old mission was truly beautiful, and the little town as well. The cobble-stoned pavement in the village was a unique contrast to the rocks I had ridden on that morning. There was a group of German tourists there when I arrived and we all spent an hour taking photos and shooting video of the mission building. I did not linger long, however, because I wanted to get to Loretto and back on the main highway south. It was my intention ride all the way to La Paz that day, even though it meant going almost four hundred miles in a single day. Normally a 400 mile day isn’t something that concerns me, but here in Baja my overall average has been just a little bit above 100 miles per day. The rough roads and frequent stops to take pictures have prevented riding farther than that. I wasn’t worried however, because I knew that the majority of riding would be on Highway 1, where its possible to travel very fast, despite the frequent speed limit signs of 80kph.

The Road that Beat Me

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:42:24 +0000

I managed to catch up on some of the work I needed to do while I was in Scorpion Bay. I had an unlimited supply of electricity in my comfortable, if small, room. In fact, it wasnt until 1p.m. that I left San Juanico and headed east hoping to cross the peninsula second time, in the other direction. My destination was Loretto, and I was planning on taking a road that I saw on the map, but didnt know anything about. If I knew how difficult it would prove to be, I might have scared myself out of taking this challenging road across the peninsula.

After passing through the lush oasis of La Purisima, I turned right in San Isidro and headed up into the higher country. The road got rough pretty fast, with an assortment of large bowling ball sized rocks on steep hills. Getting the motorcycle up and down these roads proved to be quite challenging and I had a hard time imagining even a 4-wheel drive vehicle making it through here.

At one point I stopped to set up a video shot on what looked like it would be a challenging descent down one of the long and rocky hills. With the camera rolling, I got on my bike and tried to move slowly forward without falling over. It was working fine until the bike leaned hard to the right and I leaned even further to get my foot down on ground that was sloping away from under me. I suddenly found myself in a unique situation. I was not even moving at all, but it was everything I could do to keep my heavy bike upright without falling. Because of the position I was in, I could not lean to the left, nor could I go forward. I could do nothing but struggle to remain motionless and hold my bike upright. It was useless. There was no way I could avoid falling over in this predicament. So I did the only thing I could do. I bailed out by leaping off my bike the just before it fell over. I knew the camera was rolling and was laughing inside that I had managed to capture this hilarious little scene on video.

I quickly turned the motor off but let my bike lay on its side long enough to take few snapshots of the scene. Then I repositioned the video camera and filmed myself struggling to pick up the bike. Little did I know that this scene would repeat itself two more times before I called it a day. I was exhausted and had met my match on this god awful stretch of rocks that passed for a road in Baja. After the third tumble, I realized that there was no way I was going to make it to Loretto that day, and decided to camp right where I was, out in the middle of nowhere. I had no choice. I was exhausted.

I pushed several rocks aside in order to clear enough space for my tent. I put up the poles just as the sun was going down and then fired up my camp stove. it wasn’t gourmet, but it was good enough. I barely remember turning out my headlamp that night i was so tired. I fell asleep listening to the howl of coyotes proud that I had finally managed to encounter and survive a real adventure on this journey.

Scorpion Bay

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:41:33 +0000

The road out of San Ignacio is paved for a short distance and then abruptly becomes a dirt road leading out towards the coast. I took this road looking forward to reaching the town of San Juanico some 230 miles away. As it nears the coast it turns towards the left and follows the coastline some distance inland. The actual ocean isn’t visible, but the sheer walls of cliffs to the left was quite inspiring. A few large patches of deep sand inspired me to set up a couple of shots, action footage of myself plowing through the sand pits, trying not to fall over with my over-burdened beast of a machine. I really hauled the mail on that afternoon and arrived in San Juanico before the setting sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Although the town itself is quite unspectacular, the bay is magnificent. Because of the recent storm that had passed through the area, an unusually large number of shrimp boats were moored out in the harbor, creating a pleasing scene with an almost full moon rising in the background. Scorpion Bay has become something of a surfer’s paradise with it’s collection of five different points that create nice long sets of waves. I found a campground out on one of the points that had rooms and palapas for rent, along with a restaurant and bar. There were a few other gringos there, guys and girls from the west coast of the USA who were down in Baja exploring this little surfer’s paradise.

Mourning the Passing of an Old Friend

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:36:06 +0000

I can still remember the day I purchased my first significant piece of outdoor gear. It was a cold winter day in Michigan and I was 19 years old. I had just spent a few days working with my cousin Andy in Chicago, and made enough money to buy a new sleeping bag. I knew the one I wanted. it was a North Face “Tangerine Dream”. I had seen pictures of this sleeping bag in Outside Magazine, and lusted after it for months. It claimed to be functional down to an incredible negative thirty degrees! A local outdoor store had one in stock and I purchased it new for more than two hundred dollars. I used it the following summer when I went to Alaska to work in the fishing industry. I continued to use it every year for the next 21 years and it never let me down. At times, it was bigger and warmer than anything I needed, but I never failed to appreciate its loft and comfort in times of need.

To see my favorite piece of outdoor gear reduced to a smoldering lump of plastic on the back roads of Baja was a great misfortune to me. I felt like I had let down a trusted old friend with my carelessness.

In addition to destroying my sleeping bag, the muffler incident also damaged one of the waterproof Ortlieb bags that I was using, and a fleece jacket that I had packed next to my sleeping bag. I was able to create a make-shift repair of the Ortlieb bag by using duct tape and the fleece jacket is now a fleece vest! I managed to use my thread and needle that I carry with me to patch a section of the jacket that had burned. Reduce, reuse and repair. That’s been one of my mottos since I started this journey with the mission of spending as little as possible on the road.

My old sleeping bag finally bit the dust in Baja after a muffler incident.

Rice and Beans - An Oasis in an Oasis

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:34:33 +0000

There are always a few characters on any journey that stand out as exemplars of hospitality in a foreign country. Ricardo, the owner of Rice and Beans Campground and Restaurant in San Ignacio, is one of them for me. Fortunately, somebody had told me about “Rice and Beans” and I spied the large sign on his roof before arriving in San Ignacio. I arrived at his “oasis” after the sun had fallen and I was in search of a place to lay my head. It had been raining, I was wet, a little bit tired, and hungry. Ricardo informed me that I could stay at his campground for about six dollars per night. the price included access to hot showers, and the restaurant was open later than I planned on staying up that evening. As I was setting up my tent, Ricardo came outside and offered to move his pickup truck so I could park underneath the shelter in case it rained more that night. I politely informed him that I intended to camp in my waterproof tent, but was too embarrassed to tell him about my sleeping bag problem. I spent the night in my tent sleeping underneath my motorcycle cover. Fortunately it wasn’t cold and I didn’t have any problems sleeping that night. In the morning, I ate inside of the restaurant and spent some time filming a few scenes of Ricardo’s oasis. It was quite obvious that many motorcyclist had been there, and I could imagine the bar and restaurant being full of partying bikers during the races that regularly happen in Baja.

I finally decided to show Ricardo my melted sleeping bag with the hope that he would be able to point me in the direction of a place to purchase a new one. Instead, he offered to sell me his own sleeping bag for forty dollars. He had just purchased it and only used it twice, he said. I inspected it and found that it was indeed practically new so I purchased it from him.

As I was packing up to leave, Ricardo came out and visited me once again, offering me some Pepto Bismal tablets in case I encountered any stomach problems on my trip south. He was even gracious enough to let me ask him a few questions about his business in front of my video camera. I left Rice and Beans feeling very fortunate to have met Ricardo and his generous hospitality. He seemed to be the kind of person who really enjoyed helping people and making sure that travelers though his country have a good experience.

The actual oasis of San Ignacio is just what it claims to be, a lush oasis of date palm trees. The center of town contains a wonderful old mission or cathedral type of building and a tree covered square surrounded by shops. The atmosphere is pleasing and relaxing with a mix of local people and visiting tourists snapping pictures or signing up for an eco-tour excursion. After riding though the back streets behind the main square, I found my way out of town on a road leading to Pacific Coast of Baja.

Crossing the Peninsula

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:33:52 +0000

I left San Francisquito and headed west across the peninsula. With any luck, I would be traversing the entire peninsula from one coast to the other in a single day. The dirt track I rode on was similar to the riding I had done the day before, but I did manage to encounter a section that was incredibly difficult. I’m not sure if I was off-rout or not, but the “road” quickly become a rutted track of obstacles, sand, rocks and branches. For two kilometers I had to keep my feet on the ground as I struggled to make it through this difficult section. My biggest fear was that this road would be in the same condition for the next sixty miles. Fortunately it wasnt and I soon arrived at another road in much better condition. I believe that I had somehow got off the main road onto a seldom used track. After a while the road straightened itself out and I settled into some high speed cruising over the washboards. I passed a military check point at the border that divides Baja Norte from Baja Sur but nobody cared to stop me. AFter about a half hour of fast riding I made the customary look into the rear view mirror to inspect my belongings lashed to the tops of my panniers. On one side of my bike I carry a large black waterproof bag that contains my tent, sleeping pad, bike cover and rain gear. On the other side, in a similar duffel, is my sleeping bag. Imagine my surprise when I noticed that only one of the bags was there. i stopped immediately and wondered how far back it had fallen off and if I would even be able to find it. It was then that I noticed the bag was still attached to my motorcycle, but it fallen down behind the rear end of the bike. i got off the bike to put things back in order. When I saw what had happened I was in shock. My bag had been sitting immediately behind the muffler and it had completely melted. Not only that, but my sleeping bag inside was completely destroyed into a mass of melted poly-synthectic goo. It was still smoldering as I reattached it to the bike with hopes of being able to repair it later in the evening before using it again. An hour later I once again arrived at another crossroad connection with highway 1. this time I turned north and headed to Guerro Negro, a large city where I could stock up on supplies before continuing on the west coast.

I wasn’t impressed with Guerro Negro nor was I expecting to be. It seemed like a perfectly functional city based around a long corridor of dusty shops offering everything from food to tire repair services, cell phone stores and clothing shops. There were quite a few signs offering whale watching tours at it was highly recommended to me that I manage to take one of the excursions to see the grey whales that come into the Laguna Oja de Liebre to give birth to baby whales. i wasn’t in the mood for such an excursion, however, so I bought some food, had lunch and got back on Highway to the south, looking for another off-road connection.

I got off the main highway after a short distance and began trying to find a new road to the coastline. A long dirt track brought me out to the bay, passing many more opportunities to visit the whales in case I had decided to change my mind. I did, however, stop at a visitors facility where there was a well presented display of information about the migrating whales.

Another unique characteristic of this area is the presence of many large salt evaporating pans that lay exposed across the flat surface of the landscape. The salt that is created from the evaporation of sea-water is dry and white, and very abundant here. It looks like snow or ice, and gives the landscape a decidedly arctic appearance. Imagine that, being in the heat of Baja in a place that looks like the arctic circle. It was quite a surreal feeling to be riding my motorcycle between the evaporating pans. Maybe that explains why I got lost in the strange maze of roads that lead nowhere. I did manage to extract myself after an hour of riding through this surreal labyrinth but it meant returning to Highway 1 sooner than i expected and heading south towards San Ignacio. For once, I felt like I was using Highway 1 for its intended reason - a simple and functional path across a landscape that is otherwise very difficult to travel through.

San Francisquito

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:32:40 +0000

After leaving Bahia de los Angeles on the road to the south things change quickly. The isolation of the desert is overwhelming and the dirt track is the only connection to a civilization that seems to hypothetically exist in one direction or the other. It was while I was traveling on this lonely road that I first felt a profound sense of doing something adventurous or extreme. At one point I stopped to take some pictures of the desert plants, and a passing vehicle stopped to make sure I was all right. That was the only vehicle I encountered for two days while traveling on this road.

The desert that presented itslef to me on the way to San Francisquito was by far the most beautiful I had yet encountered on my jounery through Baja. At one point, I simply had to stop riding and park my motorcycle long enough to absorb all of the myriad flowering cactus around me. In addition to cactus, there were many other forms of plant life that were incredibly green for such an arid landscape. I never knew that the desert held secrets such as these.

Thankfully, my motorcycle was holding up well as I pushed and pounded my way across the rocky terrain. I stopped several times to drink water, knowing that I was stocked up with more than two liters of this vital resource, in case I found myself stranded in the inhospitable landscape for any length of time.

I was not sure what I would find upon arrival in San Francisquito. I knew little about the place and didn’t even know if there were any services there. Unfortunately I had neglected to stock up food before leaving Bahia de los Angeles. I mistakingly thought I would be able to purchase something along the way from a remote store in the back country but none existed. As the sun began to sink toward the horizon I held hope that there would at least be a house or a restaurant willing to feed a stranger arriving on a motorbike. Indeed, when the sandy road arrived upon the wild shore I found a family outpost that operated a restaurant and palapa rental business. I was in luck and found both food and lodgings for the night.

The next morning I woke up before the sun and had my camera ready to capture the magnificence of the moment when the fiery orb first presents itself on the distant horizon. Distant and isolated, with no other guests at the facility, I felt like nature had created the spectacular show just for me. Soon enough, however, the oranges and pinks of sunrise become a blinding yellow and i packed up my camera gear and headed into the restaurant for breakfast.

The restaurant itself was a very humble affair, a concrete room with a metal roof, and a coupe of long tables with chairs. There was no menu. I simply ate what was prepared for me. For dinner, a steaming plate of mariscos (seafood including many mussels). For breakfast, another omelette with tortillas and refried beans. Simple fare but I was very grateful for the opportunity to eat anything out here. There were two women in the other room, the kitchen, along with a couple of men drinking coffee. I shared the dining room with a boy and girl who alternately played cards and video games on a television in the background. They seemed to be quite used to strangers like myself arriving at their outpost and were pleasant enough in their manners with me as I payed my bill and headed out.

Bahia de los Angeles

vagabiker — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:31:38 +0000

I left Coco’s Corner and rode the last remaining bit of dirt road to Highway 1, Baja’s most significant transportation corridor. My first encounter with this long slab of pavement was in Chapala, about a quarter of the way down the peninsula. I sat for some time with my engine running contemplating the importance of the piece of asphalt that lay before me. To the right, the highway goes north to Ensenada. To the left it travels south, all the way to Cabo San Lucas.

Highway 1 is the main artery between Baja California Norte and Baja California Sur, the north and the south. It’s the lifeline that connects everything to everything else, a long and predictable piece of pavement that winds it’s way up the peninsula. It’s possible to get off the main highway, onto smaller dirt roads that lead to distant fishing villages along the coast, or ranches in the mountains, but it’s nearly impossible to travel the length of the peninsula without driving on Highway 1 at least some of the time. Surely, it’s the fastest way to travel up and down the peninsula.

I imagine that many drivers in Baja never see anything beyond the vistas offered by Highway 1 itself, as they race from one end of the peninsula to the other. It must be an incredibly daunting task to drive it’s entire length with only the motivation of arriving at the other end. No matter what speed I traveled on the smooth pavement, it felt like I was going incredibly fast after two days of traveling much slower on the bumpy back roads.

Despite the fact that it is the main artery between the north and the south, it can be a lonely road. Abandoned tire carcasses on the side of the road were more common than passing vehicles. After traveling south for about 50 km, I turned left onto Highway 12, heading for the eastern coastline and the city of Bahia de los Angeles. The view that presents itself upon arrival at the ocean is nothing less than incredible. Immediately before reaching the the coastal city, the road presents a picturesque panorama of the bay of angels from a high vantage point. Definitely a place to stop and take a picture.

I descended the few kilometers into the city and began looking for a place to lodge overnight. After checking out a few options, I settled into a nice hotel with a restaurant and bar, ready to reacquaint myself with a civilized life that included a hot shower, comfortable bed and predictable electricity.

Unless one chooses to return to Highway 1, the only other option for leaving Bahia de los Angeles is a dirt road that heads south into the desert. Along the way it’s possible to make a short detour to San Francisquito, a small village on the coast, before continuing on for many miles before once again reconnecting with Highway 1. That’s the road I decided to take when I left Bahia de los Angeles, refreshed and ready to take on another challenge.

Update from Scorpion Bay

vagabiker — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 03:43:47 +0000

Hey y’all,

I’ll try to get some more vidoes posted soon. I’ve been shooting a lot of stuff (see picture below). I made it from the east coast (Sea of Cortez) side of Baja to the west coast (Pacific Ocean). I left the small pueblo of San Francisquito and had a great ride across to Guerro Negro where I stocked up on supplies that continued south along the Pacific Coast. Last night was spent camping at Rice and Beans in San Ignacio and today was some of the best riding yet, a long dirt track to Scorpion Bay. This is a place for surfers and there are a few here. I gather that quite a bit more come during other times of the year. In general, I have not seen seen very many other bikers out on the back roads of Baja which surprises me. In fact, I have yet to come across any other two-wheeled travelers on any of the back roads! Where are they? Some say that it is the economy and others say that people think Mexico is currently too unsafe to travel through. I disagree on both counts. It’s cheaper to be here than back home in Seattle and all of the people I have met have been extremely friendly.

Just another day on the road.

All loaded up as usual

Even though I look stern I'm having a great time.

Coco’s Corner

vagabiker — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 18:36:45 +0000

Trip Stats

vagabiker — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 15:24:50 +0000

I ran some numbers this morning, out of curiosity to see how much I have been spending and how far I have been travelling. Here’s the results:

MILEAGE

So far I have travelled 2813 miles since leaving Seattle.

Thats 17 days on the road.

165 miles/day average

In the USA my average was 348 miles/day

In Mexico my average is 105 miles/day

Analysis: I think that these figures seem correct. I know that I have been moving much slower down here since I crossed the border. Partly because I am taking roads that are in worse shape, and partly because I just like to stop and look at things more often, and not be in a hurry. But I had no idea that my average was just over 100 miles a day. In a way I’m kind of stoked that it’s that low! It means that I am not hurrying past everything.

COSTS

U.S.A. Daily Average (11 days) $42.27

Mexico Daily Average (so far seven days) $ 35.80

Analysis: This pretty much sums it up. It is cheaper to travel down here than it is back in the states. Anyways, I am very happy that I have been able to maintain my goal of keeping it under $50/day for all of my expenses including fuel, food and lodging. It really helps that I can camp out when I want to, which is about half of the time. I really don’t feel like I am missing out on anything either.

One Family’s Campo on the Coast

vagabiker — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 05:04:20 +0000

After riding all morning on the rough road south of Puertocitos I was getting pretty hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything other than a banana all day. When I came across this little campo (Campo “Virdiana”) I immediately pulled in. I was greeted by Victor Orozco and Imelda Ramirez, a couple from San Felipe who come out here to live for a moth or so. Their children are in school back in San Felipe so this is where they come in their free time. Victor was outside working on his truck and Imelda was inside of their building. She fixed me up a couple of burritos and we passed the time talking about life, family and travel. I was impressed that I managed to hold a conversation in Spanish for that long. What a great couple and I’m lucky to have met them in my time of hunger-need.

Campo Viridiana

Victor and Imelda

Homes and Buildings in Baja

vagabiker — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 04:43:23 +0000

I love the organic growth and decay of things I see in Baja, and the makeshift way in which people erect structures to live in. It appears that anyone and every one can be a carpenter, and build his or her own home out of whatever materials they have at hand. Many times, a simple trailer or camper shell will be the foundation upon which every thing else grows. Sometimes, the process happens in reverse and once lived-in shelters succumb to the process of decay and become a fascinating part of the landscape.

A once mobile camper appears to have become attached permanently to a particular place.

Need an addition. Just use a camper shell.

The most basic of buildings, a collection of sticks erected in the ground.

The inevitable of process of decay.

A fine example of a mobile home/trailer that has been added onto over the years.

Camping South of Puertocitos

admin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 04:22:21 +0000

I camped in an isolated area south of Puertocitos with another family of campers on the rocks below me. It was a perfect blissful evening and I built a large campfire, drank scotch and watched the sun go down. This was the first really “wild camping” that I have done on this trip and it felt good to be in such a place.

South of Puertocitos

A beautiful stretch of road along the coast. Someday this will be paved.

San Felipe

admin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 04:16:38 +0000

Some say that Coca-Cola is better in Mexico. I think so.

San Felipe (population 19,000) is a small city on the eastern coast of Baja, along the Gulf of California. I rode into town with the GPS location of a campground located in the city. I found the place and soon had established my lodging for the evening. I ate at Rice and Beans. It was the best shrimp burrito I ever had. Half of my diet thus far has consisted of whatever I can find at gas stations and convenience stores. Usually this consists of some instant noodles and canned vegetables, along with an assortment of strange cookies. The other half of my diet is from restaurants and it has been the saving grace of my culinary sanity. Delicious!

I met some local musicians out on the street in San Felipe and convinced them (for five bucks) to play some music for my videos. We’ll see how it turned out. Back at the campground (Kiki’s) I found wireless internet access and uploaded a bunch of new videos to the site. Thank you Kiki for letting me use your wireless connection!

Leaving San Felipe I headed south on the coastal road to Puertocitos. In the past, this was an unpaved road. Now it is paved. Everybody has something to say about how much things have changed in Baja in the past twenty years is this stretch of road is always a topic of conversation. The pavement ended south of Puertocitos but the road crew is working on paving it all the way through to the main highway further south. When complete, it will give travelers a second option for traveling south through this part of Baja.

Laguna del Diablo

admin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 04:13:06 +0000

The main highway from Ensenada to San Felipe is fast and smooth, but I was looking for a challenge. I turned off the main road at a point where I could see the large basin of Laguna Diablo to the south. I was going to take the “back way” into San Felipe, a route that promised to be more exciting than the pavement could offer.

While there were few cars on the main highway, there were even fewer on this dirt road. The Sierra De San Pedro mountain range was to the west as I headed south. The mountains were a good backdrop for filming, so I stopped a few times and set up my camera, then proceeded to ride through the scene as if I were innocently traveling across the landscape, unaware of being filmed by myself in the process. After a while the route got quite sandy and I had fun learning how to find my balance in the smooth tracks. A dry salt bed provided me with some entertaining footage of high speed riding across the flats, as if I were in Nevada’s famous desert where they set land speed records.

By early afternoon I had made it through most of the unpaved road and could see the Gulf of California in the distance. Next stop, San Felipe.

Mike’s Sky Ranch

admin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 04:07:47 +0000

I woke up early at Rancho Rodeo Del Rey and it was very cold outside. All of my water was frozen but I managed to make a cup of coffee. I waited for the restaurant to open and ordered an omelette for breakfast. After eating breakfast I commenced shooting some video of the rancho, and met a couple of the ranch hands who work there. One of the was named Nick, and he was a cowboy if ever there was one, with his hat and leather chaps. Another fellow named Frederico told me that he was from Nachez, in Washington state, where I’m from. He said that he had family back in Nachez, that he wasn’t able to see anymore because of problems with U.S. Immigrations. I promised to contact them when I return, and share some of the video that I shot at the rancho. Frederico was very grateful for this and it is a promise I intend to keep upon my return to the states. Its really a small way that I can begin to repay some of the favors of hospitality that I have begun to receive on this trip. I managed to buy a couple of gallons of gasoline before heading out on the road.

I was looking forward to making it up to Mike’s SKy Ranch, a place I had read about on the internet as I made preparations for this trip. It’s one of Baja’s legends, a place to visit for a traveling motorcyclists. After making my way out of the National Park, I found the main highway and headed south for an hour until I saw a sign pointing to “Ranch Mike Sky”. I took the dirt track and soon found myself heading up the 30 mile long “driveway” that leads into the high country.

After about an hour of climbing up the rough road, I arrived at the ranch. It seemed completely deserted. I parked my bike and entered what seemed like the main entrance into a compound of white buildings. There was a swimming pool, and a number of buildings that seemed like they could be quarters for guests. Like many places I have seen in Baja, there were moto-sport stickers everywhere. They covered the windows and doors with their loud, glossy slogans and logos.

A couple minutes after my arrival I was greeted by a tall, thin and quiet spoken man with a cowboy hat. He introduced himself as David and showed me my room for the night. It had a small stove, a big bed, and shower that would produce hot water in about twenty minutes, he said. We set up a time for dining and then he left me on my own. I unpacked all of my gear, cleaned up, and headed into the one of the larger buildings. The dining room had a long table that could easily seat twenty persons, although I was the only one there. I sat alone and patiently waited for my meal to arrive. Soon enough, I was brought out a hot plate of food - a huge steak with vegetables, rice, beans and hot tortillas. After eating alone, I went back to my room and called it a day.

The next morning I got up to take some pictures of the ranch. It was kind of strange being the only one there. I expected it to be hustling with partying motorcyclists of every stripe and color. Instead, it was just me. The cavernous dining hall with it’s empty table, and all of the motorcycle stickers pasted on the walls made it feel a little bit like a ghost town. I could sense the energy of past occasions of celebration. Im sure that this still occurs but for me it was really just a quiet affair and personal celebration of sorts. I had made it to Mike’s, for what it was worth, and had a good time.

I settled up with David, about $60 for everything, and headed back out the same driveway that I had rode yesterday.

The "driveway" to Mike's Sky Ranch.

What more could a worn out biker want?

Sort of Lost

admin — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 21:59:05 +0000

Barbed Wire

admin — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 21:51:05 +0000

Rancho Rodeo Del Rey

admin — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 21:46:18 +0000