#klr659

Leaving Guaymas, I ventured south by day light, my goal was to reach Los Mochis before dark. The distance seemed doable, I’ve gotten used to the toll roads and overall things have been turning out quite well. Five hours or so later I was getting closer. The sun was getting closer to the horizon too, little time remained before darkness. I kept my eyes open for a place to camp..figured I’d try that maneuver rather than another hotel.

There were some wonderful mountains scattered here and there, but nothing really grabbed me as a definite spot at which to rest one’s bones. And so I entered Los Mochis, figuring I’d ride over to the coast a little farther and find someplace to pitch my tent..but as fate would have it, a fellow by the name of Gilberto crossed my path, he was riding a BMW and we exchanged a greeting at a red light of an intersection. The light turned green and off we went, only to stop again at the next light, this giving us more time for conversation.

Gilberto noticed my bike luggage, took interest in where I was going and where I was coming from and somehow I managed to express my desire to find a beach. “La playa??” At this hour..? “I like to camp..” I replied, Gilberto was a bit concerned it seemed…he asked me to pull over with him, he was going to call a friend who knew more english in order to explain a few things to me. 

We pulled over at a gas station…I took out my map and figured there’s another 30 or so kilometers to the coast…but the sun has set and I’m sure the temperature was on its way down too. In a moment, Tito drove by, a total character, and there I was surrounded by Mochisians, ready to welcome me into their town…right away they told me that camping was an awful dangerous idea and that a year or so, someone got stabbed at night. They talked amongst themselves and to avoid concerning my new friends with my idiotic idea I told them..well it’s no problem, I saw a few hotels coming into Mochis…”Maybe you can recommend a place to eat at?” I asked… And off we went to a taco stand, the best one in town supposedly..I couldn’t disagree…the damn things were delicious. The mustached owner covered the bill, and as I munched my Carne Asada Goodness, I asked Tito what he did for a living. “I work for Movistar, it’s a cell phone company…” No kidding! What are the odds..maybe you can hook me up with a phone plan, or explain how to go about setting up a phone out here I said..

"Absolutely, we can do all that tomorrow!”

The friendly gentlemen went on conversing amongst themselves, no doubt a sinister plot to lure me into a trap, a kidnapping for a ransom…The tacos were merely a way to gain my trust…Surely after I was fully fed, the hotel that Gilly was to escort me to was to be my prison for who knows how long…!

I followed my friend through the city. He knew a good hotel with laundry service not too far. At one point he reaches into his pocket, pushes a button and a garage to a palace opens up before us. Some hotel! I was a guest at Gily and his wife’s beautiful home for the night. A personal room, a garage for my bike and laundry.

Gily gifted me a black bandana and a “Live to Ride, Ride to Live” biker T-shirt. My motorcycle adventure had triggered a friendship, a sort of bond between bikers where we look out for each other. Gily knew some friends in Mazatlan, my next city on the map, and promised to connect me with bikers from down there…I’d get a free night a hotel guaranteed.

If that wasn’t enough, that evening this wonderful couple invited me to join them for an evening with friends..a weekly tradition where every friday a dozen or so meet up for dinner and music..tonight I was their honored guest.

I sipped a quarter bottle of Tequila, butchered my way through kindergarden level conversation and even made a joke referring to how the liquor was comparable to oil that lubricated the machinery of my language barrier…The merry folk all sang, I sketched out a caricature. That night, the dreams were too perfect. I had taken a liking to Tequila.

I awoke around 9 AM, my bag of dirty clothes was washed and dried, I was offered breakfast. Gily and I talked about politics as the news channel hammered away at the same story over and over how some drug lord Guzman, was recently captured…Funny enough, not even a day after Obama flew into Mexico for a visit to discuss whatever it is that presidents discuss…It’s all political stunt, it’s all too very obvious and very coincidental was our breakfast theme. I took a few minutes to load up my bike and scrub my chain clean. Gily was to escort me to Tito who promised me a way to activate my iPhone with a Mexican plan. 

For the next two hours, my phone was getting a new sim card, a monthly plan where I had nearly unlimited data, local phone and even free phone calls to the US. This miracle of course involved me having to hack into the phone first, liberating it from its former way of being..Sadly this process erased my music and audiobooks for the time being, but to have a working phone and GPS seemed like a better payoff! I’d back up my phone with my computer later sometime. Little did I realize both of my USB ports were shot to hell... Wouldn't be able to fix them until way later in this adventure of mine. But that is exactly what it all is, adventure...from one level to the next...Each new dilema brings forth a challenge and opens doors to creative resolutions.

By mid afternoon, I was ready to head out. Gily parted ways with me at the highway going south. I rode in silence, observing the lovely landscape. Evening turned into night fairly quickly. I would gas up, add warmer layers and continue driving under the clearest starlit sky. And despite the warnings of driving at night, I pushed onwards. Mazatlan was a few hours away and I was determined to get there by midnight.