Vuz Moto Tent: Overland Expo Honest Review
Category Archives: For Good
Brand New Vuz Moto Tent with Full Review and Walk Around
There has been a lot of buzz on the forums about this new tent from Vuz. In all my reading I have found so many things to love about this tent but I haven’t had a chance to spend the night in it yet. In about four weeks I will be attending Overland Expo East at Reeb’s Ranch in North Carolina. While there I will be using the Vuz Moto Tent exclusively for keeping the bike tip-top, sleeping and any partying I am willing to do inside the enormous garage.
First off the tent is much tougher than I would have thought for the price. The material is thick and strong while still being light enough to not get out of hand. I have carried ultralight backpacking tents that felt fragile like toilet paper and heavy canvas tents that could break your back. This one sits right in the middle and is a nice mix of weight saving and strength. The setup was one of my biggest concerns and it wasn’t a big deal at all. The directions weren’t great but if you have a picture of the tent as it is supposed to look available, you can find your way through it easily enough.
You can purchase through our link and get 10% off of an already reduced price. It helps our blog and you get a cheaper price.
Vuz Moto Tent
I just received the Vuz Moto Tent from Amazon. This looks like it could be the Redverz killer but I am so curious if anyone else has been using one.
Africa Twin 3 Month Review including all accessories
Africa Twin (DCT) One Month Review
Day 12 – Placencia
We are taking a day to recoup and bring the bikes back to tip top while we hang out in paradise.
The room is freezing just the way we love it. We have been overheating every day and both nights in Tikal were hot and humid so this has been a welcome departure. I took this opportunity to try to do a thorough sink washing of all my gear. I have worn two different technical shirts for my top layer so far and they are getting pretty nasty. I have three pairs of Ex-Officio underwear I have been rotating to keep as fresh as possible. They aren’t bad but it would be nice to deep clean them now that I have the chance. The last item I really need to work on is the liner of my helmet. It has been getting pretty gruesome in there with all the warm days and rain we have met up with. It is so bad that I often opt to keep the visor at least a little open so I don’t drown in my own stink. No Bueno. This is my first time removing the liner and I am proud to say the Scorpion EXO AT-950 came out with no issues. I have washed everything and it is set up to dry next to the cold air output of the AC unit. Now to tackle some bike maintenance.
This is where I encountered my first real problem of the trip. Apparently, overloading the panniers and taking the speed tables like mini ramps wasn’t a great idea because my right pannier frame has broken dramatically. I am running the SW Motech racks with the QD bolts. The top bolt has gone missing on me so the entire rack is hanging a little. Underweight I bet it would like it’s about to get ripped off. I took a moment to lament the fact that I didn’t change out the quick disconnect bolts with real bolts when I first saw them at installation months ago but that time has passed. There is nothing I can do now to go back and fix my error. Joe and I figured we could probably pick something up along the way to bolt the frame back together properly or we would be able to find a place once we got to Roatan. For now, I just used my Mosko Moto straps to cinch the frame back towards the bike and tight with the other side. It seemed to hold well enough creating an X pattern across the pillion portion of my seat. That ought to hold as long as I don’t act like a Nitro Circus performer hitting topes every day. I lubed the chain again and packed up in the heat to relax a little in our room while I waited for dinner.
This hotel is incredible. Belize has a gorgeous coastline and this place is taking full advantage of the view. They also have a Mexican restaurant across the street which faces toward the bay. We wanted a little change for this evening and opted for Mexican at Jalapenos. The food was good, the drinks were fruity and because it is the offseason we were almost the only two people in the place.
I am glad to have had the rest and tomorrow is a big day as we head back to Guatemala and hopefully into Honduras depending on the border(s). I am not taking the AC in this place for granted or the fact that I can hear the pool fountain right outside our window. I could see journeying back to this place for a vacation all it’s own.
Day 11 – Tikal to Placencia
We rose fairly early today because we are excited to get on the road if for no other reason than we hope it will help dry off our gear. We have existed for more than 48 hours now in the jungle with almost constant rain soaking us down. It has been an incredible time but we need to get on the road because we have Belize on our mind for today. It should be about a 200 mile trip with a border crossing included.
Our breakfast was very good and we have been extraordinarily happy with our stay at the Tikal Jungle Lodge. It is a little more spartan than I would want long term with its generator shut-offs, screaming monkeys at night and impossible sat connections but it was a great experience overall staying at the foothills of the Tikal ruins.
Joe, of course, was packed up long before me and headed towards the bike in a slight sprinkle. I was trying to catch up back in the room and in my rush, I almost didn’t notice the hitchhiker I was about to fold up with the rest of my clothing. Stuck in the seam was a little half-dollar sized scorpion which may have been the little brother of the two big guys we saw at dinner our first night. Initially, I jumped just a little at the feeling that where there is one, there must be more and I worried about them crawling all over me. Once I verified I wasn’t covered in little beasts I sought to swipe this little guy out of my bag, buckled up and made my way to the bike with a smile on my face. I was ready to get the hell out of the jungle and headed toward the beach.
We cleared the mist of the jungle and got back onto roads surrounded by scrolling greenery. There were huge fields of what appeared to be sugar cane which made it feel like driving through Iowa when the corn is at its highest. The winding roads were fun and the weather was warm enough to dry us off nicely. We rolled into the border crossing still feeling great from the days perfect ride.
The entry into Belize was a bit of a culture shock as it feels like a continuation of Guatemala based on the environment but all of a sudden everyone is speaking English. If you aren’t paying attention there is a moment where you might think you are finally getting your Spanish down because you can finally understand everything being said to you. Don’t worry, you haven’t flown through a time warp where you are bilingual you have just made it to the former British Commonwealth of Belize. The lines are fairly intuitive as we started with the first little booth right inside the door and made our way to customs at the back of the building. The only thing that was different for us than the rest was our quick trip outside to get the bikes checked in before we could get our final stamp of approval. All in all, this was a very simple border crossing. When we pulled through we immediately headed to a cluster of huts just beyond the border to the right where we could purchase insurance.
We headed into the first building to feel the pleasantly cool air conditioning in a small room with two desks facing the door. The woman to our right extended her hand, introduced herself and asked if we were looking for insurance. We sat down and she was quick about getting us both through with 3 days worth of insurance for the bikes. She was extremely nice and asked us about our trip so far. It was nice to finally feel like we could talk to someone and again I lamented my lack of Spanish as I wasn’t having these types of interactions in other places. Before we walked out I asked if I could put a sticker on the front of her desk where other voyages were displayed. I can’t tell you how much I love the sticker and logo created for Be Gone For Good. It just makes me proud even if I am not exactly living up to the promise of “good” during my trip.
We carried forward and entered into what felt like paradise. The towns we passed through felt like every Caribbean country I had been to before. Color and life seemed to be spilling out of every corner of my vision. I was on the intercom with Joe and I remarked how startling it was to see someone out jogging all of a sudden when for days prior no one was out running on the street. The attention we received coming into this country was far different than Mexico or Guatemala where only children would wave to us. It was definitely a bit of a difference but for the first time, I felt like we were getting close to where we were headed. I think it was because Belize felt more like what I expected from Roatan. I can’t believe I am on this trip.
The other difference which is really great is the speed bumps of Mexico and Guatemala are gone, replaced by speed tables which make for perfect ramps. I watched Joe hit these pristine concrete tables launching both wheels off the ground with a “brrrt” of the throttle. It wasn’t long before I decided to give it a go as well. I wasn’t nearly as aggressive but there were a couple times where I felt completely airborne. It was thrilling and for a moment I felt like I should be on the cover of ADVMoto.
We pulled into a gas station in Placencia after riding through gorgeous beachfront mansions, sandy-floored restaurants, and bars serving all sorts of blended drinks. It felt amazing to fill up right on the water where tour groups were returning with lines full of fish. The sun was dropping quickly and I was looking forward to getting to the resort. I grabbed a few Fantas to stock up and we took off. Standing on the pegs we cruised through town with flip-flop wearing couples making there way to dinner in linen shirts and shorts. I felt like a king. We pulled into Robert’s Grove Beach Resort, parked the bikes and started unloading. The palm trees greeted us with calm sways and behind them, I could see glimmers of the late afternoon sun bouncing off the water. It was beautiful.
We checked in and were given a complimentary drink. I chose the rum punch and Joe asked for something with less sweetness. He completed our check-in procedure while I took a seat overlooking the water to enjoy my free beverage. Today was definitely a good day.
Day 9 – Palenque to Tikal
Since we got such a late start yesterday and it burned us getting into Palenque late, we decided to leave early today. I was up well before the sun, showered and packed up as quick as I could. I figured if I could get everything on the bike before the sun came up, I wouldn’t get so hot. I was wrong. It was incredibly hot, even in the early morning hours.
We had a little less than 400 km to travel and that included a border crossing into Guatemala that is known to be a little difficult. We had an early morning buffet before any of the rest of the hotel was stirring. It felt good to know we were going to get on the road at a decent hour instead of continually racing the sunlight all day.
The night before in the wee-hours I did a little chain maintenance but scrubbing, tightening and lubing the chain. This morning the smell of chemicals was still sweetly surrounding my bike. It made me feel better knowing I was taking care of the small things I had learned about. I also am really keen on the idea of understanding and mastering my own equipment. I was happy to start the day feeling tip top.
We have had days, on the way down here, where there isn’t much to look at as we are riding or the roads are particularly flat and straight. That was not today. Every turn revealed new terrain and vistas. It was like riding deeper and deeper into an oil painting. Each tree passed revealed a mountain, each mountain passed revealed a lake and each lake passed revealed another little village tucked away amongst it all. It was some of the most picturesque riding I have ever done and that includes a couple of US National Parks earlier this year.
As we pulled up to the border crossing at El Ceibo there is a single large building just off the left side of the road surrounded by fencing and several different lanes for various traffic patterns. The good news was that on this day, there was no traffic. We pulled up to a building which looked all but abandoned with one man sitting outside in a uniform not made for the heat with a table hung with a curtain full of vegetable images on it. We figured he had to be the agricultural guy and we were thankful we weren’t smuggling oranges because he did not seem in the mood for laughs.
We stepped inside the building which was very pleasantly air-conditioned and again, found no one. It was almost eerie as we made our way through the hollowed out hallways. We found our guy stuffed in a little office with thick glass separating us. He asked to see our papers and we began digging through our tank bags to pull out everything we had from entry just a few days prior. When he saw all our papers and passports he sent us back out of the building and along the fence line to our left. There we would find another small office but this one had bars on the windows and we were stuck standing outside. It was covered but the sauna-like heat was ever present. The people inside the little office took our passports and starting asking some questions in Spanish that we couldn’t answer. They called us into the office one at a time and sat us on a ratty couch opposite the desks. They went through the passports and all our other paperwork before loudly stamping our passports and sending us back to the man to release our bikes.
We headed back inside with our freshly stamped paperwork to see the man about returning our deposit and letting our bikes leave the country. He asked us for copies of a few of the pages and we, of course, didn’t have everything he needed. We were told to leave the bikes and walk the quarter mile to Guatemala where there was a little store where we could purchase copies. We gathered ourselves after what seemed like an international episode of Punk’d and set out on our mini journey. We crossed the DMZ-like distance between the two countries trying to conserve any sweat that might still be present in our bodies. We passed the incoming customs agent and said, “Copias” to which he just nodded and waved us through. This apparently was not an uncommon sight at this particular border. When we finally made it to the store there was just inside to our right a man at a register who knew right away why we were there. He took our paperwork and handed it to a little boy, no more than 8, who took it to the back for copies. While we waiting Joe found some Fanta in the cooler and we figured it was already well earned though our day wasn’t yet half over. We sipped the drinks and melted away all stresses of the previous hour. It felt good to know we were getting closer to finished with this border mess. We took our copies, three away our bottles and trudged back to the Mexican side of things.
The gentleman behind the heavy glass processed our bikes, took some pictures and handed me back $400 dollars. I handed the money over to Joe, thanking him for the help and apologizing again for coming to Mexico with only one card, which isn’t even accepted in most of Mexico.
We suited up and headed just a quarter of a mile down the road to officially enter Guatemala for the first time on our bikes.
One of the most obvious changes from Mexico to Guatemala is the difference in their border set up. Mexico has a big beautiful (albeit completely empty) building with glass doors and air conditioning and Guatemala is just a series of ramshackle buildings on a small hill surrounded by trailers containing banking (bike registration) and decontamination spray. We took the first set of steps which brought us in between two trailers and into a back building which was the most official looking structure there. Inside we found three guys sweating and typing on keyboards that looked too small for their enormous hands. We waited patiently until a few minutes later one looked up and began his slow walk to the counter. From there we started pulling out every scrap of paper we had, hoping we could head off any questions we probably wouldn’t understand with the proper documents.
It appeared to be going very well as very little was being said as he slowly dug into the mess we had presented and just worked his way through our respective passports. Eventually, he pointed to a piece of paper we had and asked each of us for, “Copias?” Our hearts sank a little but we knew right away what we were going to have to do. We quickly collected everything we had spread out, stuffed it into our tank bags and headed to the little store for copies. Now I know what you might be thinking…this wasn’t your standard customs office, sure, but they must have had a copy machine in there, right? Oh, they absolutely did but for some reason, that copy machine wasn’t for making copies, at least not our copies so off we went to source them ourselves.
We arrived back at the store after leaving our bikes parked in front of the rows of trailers and men sitting outside in chairs. I can’t say for sure but I felt like the attendant couldn’t hold in a wry little smile as we rounded his corner again. Maybe that was just the heat exhaustion talking but I was certain I saw it. With the Fanta still sugaring my blood from the previous visit, we sacrificed another treat to move quickly.
We returned to the office, handed him our copies, he stamped them and sent us on our way to the next trailer. Luckily, this trailer was relatively new and perfectly air-conditioned so I didn’t mind staying for a moment or two. There was also a sticker wall in here and I politely asked to post up my BGFG sticker which I had gleefully brought down here expecting to give to children and gorgeous women on the street as they fawned over my rugged bike and Indiana-Jones-like stature. For some reason that didn’t happen exactly like that so I welcomed the chance to leave my mark.
We got our bikes registered for a small fee and went to the bikes ready to take off. We were stopped by one of the guys sitting outside telling us he wanted to spray the bikes. It seemed a little like a scam but there was also a shotgun sitting in the doorway so we obliged. He doused the bottom edges of the bikes and soaked the wheels and tires before taking a small fee. he returned with an official looking form so we felt better about not being taken for gringo fools. Whatever, it was about 5 bucks so I wasn’t going to let it ruin my day now that we were finally in Guatemala and moving on.
We rode through the town and tipped our helmets to the shopkeeper who I am pretty sure was kept in business by making copies. We were immediately plunged into a very different environment with a town at the border that looked worse than any we had seen in Mexico. I didn’t want to believe that a make-believe line across the land could bring such a large disparity in populations but it seemed stark. The children were dressed differently, I would argue more shabbily, like cast members from Oliver Twist. I swear you could almost see the soot on their cheeks from the chimney sweeping they had been doing that morning. The roads seemed dirtier and covered with litter. The other bikes on the road were smaller and in worse shape than where we had spent the previous few days. It made the fact that we were on big bikes making a lot of noise seem to stick out even more so than our brightly colored jackets and leather boots.
It wasn’t long before we were back in exciting riding through jungles, mountains, and backroads. We were having a ton of fun and making reasonably good time. If we kept it up we wouldn’t have to pull into Tikal in the dark as we had with our previous destinations.
If there is one thing I could give you if you have never ridden into the heart of this jungle area is the feeling of claustrophobia that hits you as you realize the trees are closing in around you. It isn’t a shocking moment but there is a point that you see the jungle would swallow you whole if you just stood still for a moment. You can feel the ever-present creeping of the vegetation and it is humbling.
We pulled into Tikal with a slight mistiness in the air. We dismounted and took care of park entry fees because our hotel was inside the confines. The sun didn’t seem to be allowed inside this gate because it was blotted out shortly after we proceeded inside. Shortly after we lost the sun, the rains opened up and they were unrelenting. In mere minutes we were soaked completely through. We saw warning signs through the blur of the rain warning us of the wildlife nearby. Apprehension seeped into my helmet and into my brain as I thought about the night ahead.
We made it to the Jungle Lodge while the squall raged on. Quick point of warning, if it is raining when you arrive at the Jungle Lodge, please, please, please be careful on the flagstone driveway because it is practically an ice rink. I wasn’t prepared and even though I didn’t dump the bike, I certainly shimmied around a little bit.
Unpacking when you are completely drenched sucks. Actually, doing anything completely drenched sucks and we were definitely heavy with wet. I don’t know that I would have been wetter if I have walked into the pool. We got our keys, headed to the room and got into the warmest and driest clothes we had in our bags. It was good to be at our destination but this rain was a big drag. Apparently, this is what the jungle is all about. How the hell were we ever going to be dry again?
Dinner service was going to have to be quick because the power went out at 8 pm when the generators were shut off to give the jungle a chance to sleep/hunt in peace. We powered through with no difficulty until the ladies a couple of tables away started making a bit of a commotion. We inquired and they informed us of the pair of scorpions that had made their way under their feet. I immediately became completely aware of where all my limbs were while simultaneously wishing I could balance atop my chair. I, of course, kept my cool because I arrived here on a motorcycle and wasn’t about to waste that inherent coolness even though I was sure I wouldn’t survive a scorpion sting. I saw the little guys shuttle out from under the table and thought about that old saying, “They are more scared of you then you are of them…” and thought, that might just be true.
We retired to our room and I was relying on my Garmin InReach to text with my wife back home so I could tell her all about our crossing. The only problem was the significant cloud cover made messages sporadic at best. Eventually, I just had to give up and give in to the jungle.
I was in it now and there was no better way to be sure of that than the howling monkeys screaming and growling from the trees as my exhausted eyes finally shut for the night.
Day 8 – Villahermosa to Palenque
Oh man, we got another late start today, and most of it is my fault. We woke up later than expected but, to be fair, it may have had something to do with the blackout shades in the room. We went downstairs to take advantage of the enormous breakfast buffet that was offered. I crashed the omelet station and asked for pretty much everything he had stuffed into mine. Joe opted to hit the fruit cart for his meal only to eventually supplement with some beans and rice. I wanted to cry. The meal was good but more importantly huge and bottomless. Joe and I have the tendency when sitting down for a meal to get into some pretty heavy conversations and this morning was no different. The scope of the convo took us into the noon hour and I finally realized we had to get out of there if we were going to beat our 1 pm checkout time.
We hustled upstairs fat from eating and Joe promptly got himself ready to leave. I, on the other hand, took so much longer because I had all my gear out while I had decent wifi. I am in no condition to move quickly with all this stuff. It took me the better part of the remaining hour to pack up and get everything ready to haul downstairs. I hoisted my gargantuan Mosko Moto BC40 onto my back while I grabbed one pannier in either hand. Between the two side cases, I must have close to 50 pounds worth of stuff. This is not the way to travel and I am regretting overpacking to this degree. It makes loading and unloading the bike a pain and a sure fire way to ruin a good riding day. I will figure it out eventually, I am sure.
We get all the way down to the parking garage where I bikes spent the night and all I can think as the hot sun hits its high point in the sky, is how did I not get into the pool at some point in our stay? Joe was good enough to remain patient while I strapped everything down and locked up for our ride. Finally, we were able to take off with a short day ahead of us because we are stopping at Palenque to visit the ruins. We have just over 150km to cover so we are taking it easy.
The trip was completely uneventful until we arrived in Palenque. There is a main drag that runs right through the middle of the town. At the beginning of this road there is the first in a series of traffic lights. I was trailing Joe by a little distance when the light he just passed through turned yellow. I figured there was no need to push it, so I slowed assuming Joe would either see me or get stopped himself at one of the many lights ahead. Unfortunately, neither happened and I watched, stuck at the light, as Joe became a smaller and smaller figure and eventually disappeared in the distance. Damn it. I rode ahead with the thought I would eventually catch up. Then as I rode over the last hill that limited my sight from my perch at the light just a few minutes ago, I see a split in the road for a roundabout where the town’s brightly colored sign stands. Do I go left or right? What if I choose a path at the same time Joe doubles back? Is this where I get lost in Mexico forever?
Relief washed over me as I realized I had my Garmin InReach on me and so does Joe. I sent out a quick text to tell him I was waiting at the sign whenever he could make it back to me. It only took about ten minutes but the entire time I was battling with my fear of what I was going to have to do to ensure my safety alone for the night, if need be. Luckily, it wasn’t long before I heard the distinct sound of the KTM’s exhaust as Joe came back around the corner. I knew I should have gone right. The hotel was only about 3 miles away from my tumble into the abyss and we pulled up laughing about my misfortune with the light.
We were happy to have a short day of riding but it was still the hottest part of the day so we wanted to get inside quickly. The hotel was called, Hotel Villa Mercedes Palenque and it was a beautiful, grass-roofed series of huts. In the distance, I could see pathways stretching towards pools and spas. This was going to be a fine place to stay and I was looking forward to some much-needed downtime because my back was getting awfully tight.
Joe came out with a room key while I slowly disassembled my cumbersome load. The golf cart took him to our room with the promise to swing back to pick me up when I had finished. More and more I am realizing why it is so important to pack well and sparsely for trips like this. God forbid I had to carry everything to our room. I might die on the way of heat exhaustion. The cart eventually doubled back and off I went down the path to our very luxurious room. I passed not one but two pools on my way to the room. This was going to be very nice indeed. The room was already cool when I got there and Joe was already changed over for our journey to Palenque. We decided to forgo ATGATT for the park visit as it was just a mile or so down the road. We got to the front desk to inquire about which direction we should go and once we got past the obviously rough Spanish, they informed us the park would be closing in about 30 minutes and they probably wouldn’t let us in this late. Damn it again. My feet dragging and packing nonsense cost us an opportunity to visit some of the oldest ruins this side of Mexico.
We rolled with the punches and decided this was fate’s way of telling us to hit up the pool. We quickly changed back in the room and headed to the only pool where the bar was still open. Drinks were ordered and I decided to drink my sore back away. While in the pool we were approached by a man and a woman who had clearly been drinking a little longer than us. They introduced themselves as Carlos and Elena. Carlos was from Medellin, Colombia and Elena was from Guadalajara, Mexico. They were at the hotel on business which seemed to be going very well because Carlos was downing top-shelf tequila and buying drinks in an effort to catch us up. We talked about our travels and they talked about their business (plastic roofing for agricultural and industrial sites) for a couple of hours. Carlos told us about his desire to have Columbia and specifically Medellin was known as something other than Pablo Escobar’s formal stomping grounds. We listened and practiced our Spanish a little even though both spoke perfectly acceptable English. As the sun dropped lower and lower, Joe had to leave to catch his massage appointment (like I said, we needed a break) and I said goodbye to our new friends with tentative plans to see them again at dinner.
Unfortunately, dinner never happened, likely because Carlos couldn’t see straight but we both valued our first real conversation with people other than each other. We were invigorated and definitely slightly more confident giving Spanish a shot. Our dinner was very good and the restaurant was practically empty. We each had about three Fantas to celebrate our last full day in Mexico. Tomorrow we will ride for the Guatemalan border with the goal being Flores and the ruins at Tikal.
I am so excited because this will be my first international to international border. The Mexican border at Reynosa still felt like home. Tomorrow I will be crossing a “real” border and I imagine it is going to be tough to sleep. I can’t wait to see Guatemala.
Day 7 – San Pablo to Villahermosa
We got up this morning with the sounds of the ocean just outside our window. It was a nice change of pace from the more urban areas we have stayed for the past few nights. We made our way down to a leisurely breakfast with Joe opting for fruit and I had some rice and beans with eggs. I had no problem finishing the entire meal because I was ready to make up some of the ground we lost yesterday by not making it all the way to Veracruz. Our goal was Villahermosa which clocks in at about 630 km and close to 9 hours of travel.
The beginnings of the ride were incredible as we hugged the coast in the late morning hours. To my left were little resorts set right on the beach with the Gulf shiny bright blue just behind them. To my right were farms and open grasslands that stretched for miles to distant mountains. It was straight, clean roads and honestly, just the sort of easy riding I needed after yesterday.
The only problem with long straight roads in the hot sun of Mexico is my tendency to fall asleep on the bike. Now, please don’t misunderstand, I am not falling completely into a dead coma. Just a little eye close and a quick nod of the head to refresh and rejuvenate because nothing will get your blood pumping like drifting into dreamland on a two-wheel machine going 70 mph. Seriously though, I am struggling and standing on the pegs at 70 mph is tough. I try to change up the music in my helmet with some radio books but I am just ragged. Instead of careening unknowingly to my death we decide to stop at a gas station for a quick bite and a couple side straddle hops.
Inside we found a cashier/waiter that was eager to try out his English and let us practice our Spanish. He was interested in our travels and couldn’t have been more helpful. The heat was destroying my throat so I had an entire bottle of water before we even sat down at our table. Our interactions with our waiter gave Joe the confidence that this meal was going to be different and he might actually get solid vegan fare.
As we were talking a group of 4 big BMW GS 1200s came into the age station. It was the first time we had seen fellow adventurers so far on our trip and these guys were completely decked out. The bikes were beautiful and each rider was wearing a matching BMW riding suit with pants, jacket, and helmet. It was quite impressive. They came inside and sat down to have lunch just like us, so we got to talking. They were from Mexico City and had some updates about the recent earthquakes there. Apparently, it is some pretty bad devastation and everyone that can get out of town is doing so to make room for the emergency personnel. Joe and I were so thankful our route didn’t take us anywhere near the problem areas.
Joe was delivered his almost perfectly vegan meal, except for some cheese crumbles, which he gleefully downed. I had more beans and rice with cheese and some sort of meat. It was tasty, especially compared to what I was expecting from a gas station diner. I finished my Fanta, we said goodbye to the other riders and made our way down the road. Before long I saw the single headlights trailing us in my side mirrors and knew the BMW gang was gaining on us. I am way underpowered on the CB500X so I moved to the right and waved as the crew passed me by just slightly faster than my pace. I never really understood the fascination before but seeing those bikes shimmering along the blacktop made me just a touch envious. I am sure it killed Joe to let the BMWs pass his KTM but he was definitely dragging an anchor. The good news is that, at least, that anchor was no longer falling asleep.
It wasn’t long after leaving the gas station that we started noticing a subtle change in the landscape. The mountains that had previously appeared miles away to my right were slowly making their way closer and closer to our roadway. The flat open areas we began the day with became congested with vegetation and emerald green topped trees. We went from being bathed in sun to spending about half of our ride in the strobe light effect of shadows falling across the tarmac. It was surreal to feel as though the jungle was ever so slowly rising up to devour us whole. The stifling heat of the morning was slipping away to cooler, more humid stickiness. It was during one of our rides through the winding roads climbing the mountains towards the pass that I realized this was totally unique riding for me. I had been in cities before. I had seen the desert in southern Texas. The rain was no big deal for me coming from NC. But this, this was absolutely my first time riding in a jungle. It was totally foreign to me but I wasn’t entirely unused to the look because I had grown up with it in every Indiana Jones movie I’d ever seen. Vines hung from the trees like long snakes dangling over our heads. The trees reached out for each other from opposite sides of the road and every now and again, they met at the top completely blotting out the sun for moments before opening up again on the other side. It was invigorating and demanding as the twists and turns arrived more frequently.
We crossed over the mountains and continued to ride as the sun fell lower and lower in the sky. Our goal of making it all the way to Villahermosa was seeming like an unlikely conclusion to our day. Even though we had been told by people who had traveled in Mexico before, from forums and in person, we persisted because we were not going to let another day pass short of our goal. It is definitely a different feeling riding in Mexico at night. Obviously, we slow down some but one of the most exciting parts is just how dark it was around us. In the States, there are Applebees and Best Buy dotting all the paths you might take. You have lights from nearby cities reflecting off the drooping clouds. There are streetlights and billboards everywhere. In Mexico, where we were, none of that was present. If I turned my head 90 degrees and looked left, it was like staring into the abyss. There were passing trees but not much beyond that. It felt like how I would imagine space would be. I was having the time of my life.
Before it got too dangerous out there we started seeing the lights of Villahermosa ahead of us. Joe found directions to the Marriott in Villahermosa because we both agreed now was not the time to press our luck with the adventure mindset, instead opting for the familiar. We rode into a city that seemed to be pulsing. The roads were packed with cars and it seemed like a traffic jam at 11 at night was just ordinary to everyone. We moved in between cars and I could easily see the shadowy faces inside watching as our two bikes weaved in and out of traffic. At one stoplight I saw a particularly interested group of men pointing and talking to each other about the bikes. I decided there was no time like the present so I grabbed four stickers from my tank bag and rode up alongside them. They rolled down the windows with smiles on their faces as I tried on my best, “Hola, Buenos Noches…” They took the stickers saying plenty but all I caught was, “Gracias.” When I pulled into the hotel behind Joe after navigating the most complicated roundabout I have ever seen, we talked about the experiences and remarked about how glad we were to finally be somewhere we could sleep. It had been a long day but with English speakers inside and a stocked hotel ready to satisfy any appetite we had built, we knew we had made it.