#ridethisway

(Finally I get to writing again..a little over a month later..) Been hectic and beautiful living this gypsy life..no time to document it all..but I've been keeping notes..Here's the story of Mazatlan.

I enter the city in the dark of night, I had a contact from Gilbert, a biker named Paulo who would meet me. I parked near Dinamo Motorcyles, a shop, dropping my bike as I tried maneuvering at an odd angle..oh that %&@ thing..and that’s twice in one night. I’m abusing my poor beast. A man jumped out of his car, ran up to help me. “Muy Peso” I mumble, (very heavy) and thanked him.

Paulo sent another biker, Carlo to fetch me and tie me to my free hotel. In moments he arrived on a yamaha sports bike We greeted and launched off. I checked in the hotel with all my things and we planned on meeting to go drinking that night. In 25 minutes he returns, off we go to meet the others.

There’s a difference of mental states when entering civilization and mingling with others, than when one ventures in solitude for a period of time…It takes time to adjust to each. That night I meet Manuel, his wife and sister Melina for drinks at an oyster bar by the beach. Manuel takes me out to stroll about the crowds of beautiful people…winking at me to see if I liked anyone I saw. I smiled, awkward at playing this game..a novice…self confidence in public situations takes time to restore when its not needed on the road..plus my awful Spanish gives me a bit of a problem, the despair of feeling something akin to autism. I keep waiting for the language to “click” in as if like a switch I’d suddenly use it as second nature..lifting this fuse of being mute and confused. I imagine myself returning one day, and smiling as I explain how good it feels to be out of darkness…Now that we can speak. The movie Babel comes to mind, the element of miscommunication is ever present in my current reality. But the goal is to push through and keep opening oneself up.

We were all going to ride to Concordia the next morning, a 45 minute ride. Melina rode with me, replacing my luggage that stayed at the hotel. The streets were falling apart in this little town, broken and twisted in all directions. We arrived to a motorcycle rally, a blessing of helmets” ceremony was taking place. It was Sunday. Mexican music blasted from a pagoda at the center of the little square. An hour and some later we road off..parked while taking a walk to an old cathedral. One of the guys tells me about a leak under my bike…Gas pissing out of my petcock..my seal was worn to shit. Manual sent a guy to get putty since I left all my tools behind. 

The quick fix worked..a dixie cup collected my yellow energy until the drips ceased. The next day I would get a new seal.

The day of running around, having to fix my bike, my moto boots from a hole puncture from 2 nights before plus a 2 inch platform upgrade so I could be taller. $600 pesos for both leather jobs..

My satchel along with..and my phone..that had problems too.

And so I spent about two weeks in coastal city..the weather was warm, I rode around without a jacket or helmet. Swam in gulf, made friends with a fisherman, explored this little town by foot and moto.

March 1st

Ive been staying at Hotel California, $300 pesos per night, cheapest rate I found, and it went up as we approached the Carnival..I had to stay in the city, hoping to fix my computer..the usb ports gave out..my phone, little did I realize, at this point switched its roaming feature on..(thanks to some idiot working a phone booth who helped me with a bit of a quickness and thanks to my ignorance..) A month later I get two months worth of roaming bills..but ill get to that later.

Hotel California. “You can check in anytime you want but you can never leave..” I finally did leave but only after I thought I’d lost my bike for good..One night I decided to park my Dragon on main street, the night before Carnival..I was planning to sleep on the beach in my tent..

The next morning she was nowhere to be found. I looked around and paced back and forth, convinced my things were pillaged, moto destroyed. I began assuming the worst fate possible for Dragonita..I searched onwards..my state of mid forbid any presence of logic..I searched the street…"this was some kind of test" ringed in my mind.

Shame was the strongest feeling, regret burned me with its potent venom, How could I be so stupid to just leave her like this?? Idiot..Reckless reckless…Paranoia crept in..I ask a man for help, in broken dialogue..he responds, I nod my head making no sense whatsoever of his nonsense, but the mind weaves its own story..he spoke something of police. A quest of quests!

Saw a cop. He gave me directions to the station…range blinded me as I lost myself in whatever hopeless future vortex that I created for myself..All my documents, clothes, money..everything was locked up in the bike!

How I terribly missed my creature, my dragon..why have I been so foolish..? I should have left last night..and what an interesting feeling to feel..this loss…doubts about everything..regrets about everything were pulsating…Mazatlaaan! I should have banished myself days ago..yet I stayed and now a prisoner here..I prayed..and I as slowly paced towards the long long avenue with thousands of plastic chairs set up for Carnival..there she was…exactly where I had left her..A complete awareness fail on my part..the chairs have certainly changed the scenery, disguising my parking spot..but holy shit..what relief…180 degree emotional twist from disgrace to perfect joy…A psychedelic experience for sure in the mind to feel this. I loved the world. I forgave all including myself. Vowed to be more aware, less reckless, full of respect. From then onwards I remembered my whole purpose of this voyage, how idiotically I could have lost it all…A holy second chance..oh what an idiotic wonderful lesson..How else to feel this swift kick in the ass than with a silly error..taken to a level of no return.

That night I happily coiled my wire-wrap gems.

I had tried selling them. Tourists were coming into town for this event, I set up my moto bazaar and went to work under the sun.

Didn’t really sell much, but it was kinda fun regardless..

One of the nights during Carnival…

There were crowds of people, I was caught in the flow of human bodies…they moved and I moved..no choice. Suddenly a wire-wrap-ring on my left hand snagged at a girl’s hair, a short girl somewhat in front of me..The @$&ing thing wouldn’t release. Snagged really good. The crowd pushed me away and I yanked her hair unwillingly..She turned too look at me in utter fear, as my hand turned with her head. She pulled away, I pulled with her..the language barrier, the noise..the misunderstanding…I managed to slip the ring off my finger…It remained attached to her hair..a gift from kokopello, in a strange awkward sort of exchange.

Melina and I having a drink, last night at the Carnival in Mazatlan.