Monthly Archives: February 2018

Be Gone, Diary, For Good

Day 8 – Villahermosa to Palenque

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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.

Be Gone, Diary, For Good

Day 7 – San Pablo to Villahermosa

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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.