- Mexico and Belize Motorcycle Adventure - 02'
It’s more enjoyable to me staying off the high speed toll roads and ride through the small towns, I don’t want to blast past the Mexico I’m here to see. On the secondary roads, there are endless opportunities for snacking. Stopping at fresh fruit stands like this is part of why I ride, fruit, juice or whatever. Always staying in tune with my hydration and nutrition level is an important element of riding safe and alert.
Lunch stop - Gulf coast
Hwy. 180 to Veracruz is a super ride. Veracruz is a super City. The Veracruz malecon (central seaside road) is not to be missed. Sit at a table on the malecon drinking cappuccino across from Navy ships and large fishing boats. There are tons of people watching here and no American tourists. This is the view from my $61 / night room, Mocambo Hotel. I have to spend two nights here and do Veracruz right! My map shows a volcano south of here along the coast, I have to check it out. It is foggy and drizzly, never did see the volcano. This is sugarcane country and there are trucks overloaded with cane all over. Every bump in the road there are piles of sugarcane. So far the whole trip has been rosy, nothing but friendly people, great food and good weather. For the first time I jump on the toll road trying to make up a little time, Hwy 180D to the state of Tabasco where I hope is to find camping near the sea. The roads are in good shape and I’m making good time. I pull in for some gas at a big oil town, Coatzacoalcos.
Wakeup Call: I pull off the toll way for gas. After gas, I walk the bike and park between some cars. Soon, a large Mexican dude walks over and starts talking to me. I rap in Spanish a little and do my normal formal greeting, shake his hand. Something is wrong, it feels like grabbing a thick muscled stub that isn’t making any attempt to shake, even if it could. Whoo! Then he says something I don’t understand. I say "perdóneme, hablo español muy mal" (Sorry I speak Spanish very bad). This usually gets a smile but not here. I am feeling tense, then before I know it he has his hands all OVER ME, fingering my chest and sides up and down. I blow him back with a shove. We both stand our ground while I maintain a stone face stare. He starts rattling out some Spanish jive about my locks on my saddle bags. At that moment I know my suspicions are right, he isn’t a friendly Mexican that is a little slow, but a big aggressive dude wanting to shake me down! I am ready for anything but I know I am way to aggressive for my own good. My stone face is deepening and I stop speaking Spanish. Next, he reaches inside my helmet, which is clipped to the sissy bar, and takes out my sunglasses. I coil slightly in a relaxed attack stance and am ready to "pull the trigger". Some more jive, I continue my death stare. After a moment, the sunglasses slowly go back into my helmet. The Spanish jive talk and the stare continue for what seems like forever, but it is only seconds. Then he slowly walks away, but first he scans my gear and me slowly up and down. The whole time this is going on an even bigger Mexican is leaning against a car talking on his cell phone watching. I look at him a couple times with a "Hey what's up with this" look. He gives me no comfort at all. He probably is in on the whole thing and talking to his buddy up on the toll road saying "Hey!, here comes a ringer to your spot, get ready!" WTF, I motor out and stop a half a block away in front of some shacks. I need to stow my rain suit. My mind is racing now, I think to myself “Did I let it get to far?” “Am I over reacting?” No, no one touches me, especially like that. I look for justification why did this happen. I blame it on the fact I didn’t look particularly tough with my rain-suite on, and he must have not seen my flaming skull decals until he looked me over. OK, I'm over it, but it is still in my mind. Instantly, another big Mexican, I swear it is the first guys brother, walks over to me and stars aggressively talking to me. I am VERY FIRM but pleasant and just cram my rain-suit under my bungee cord and get the hell out of there. I think I am a little paranoid at this point! Lessons learned: - People with much more experience dealing with hustlers suggest the situation could have been handled better and not escalated as far as it did. The suggestion is to say "Llamo a la policia" I'm calling the police. - Be aware and study any person or persons who come up to you. Mexicans are generally polite and slightly reserved. If someone is loud and in your face, it is a RED flag, you are being tested for your weaknesses. - When parking the motorcycle, always have the bike pointing out with everything attached so if shit hits the fan, all I have to do is jump on, stick in the keys and take off. The bike was pointing in, between two cars. I would have had to back it out first. - Keep my pepper-spray handy, right front hip pocket ready to draw with ease. If I can't get to it, it isn’t going to do any good. In this case, my pepper-spray was under my rain suit, I would have had to dink around to get to it.
Fun Motels: OK, In Mexico you see motels like this on the outskirts of every city or town. On my sixth day in Mexico in the state of Tabasco, I am running low on sunlight. I for sure am not going to make it to my planned destination where the hope is to camp. Just before entering the City of Villahermosa is a big sign, Motel del Sol. I pull in the gate where there is a booth with a woman inside taking money, just like entering a drive-in movie. Inside looks like long rows and rows of self-storage stalls. In my best (rusty) Spanish, I ask how much ("Cuanto"). The woman in the booth says something and all I picked up is "por la hora, por la hora"(for the hour). I am not ‘getting it’ and keep asking "?Cuanto por total noche?". Finally, she says "Trescientos cincuenta peso" about $35 bucks. This is expensive for Mexico but I am ready to call it quits. The woman seems surprised when I ask to see a room. It is small but very clean with a huge bed, huge TV and best of all, each room has its own private garage stall, perfect for motorcycle security. I take it. The sign out front says ‘Restauranta y Bar’. After parking, I stroll out onto the compound looking for the bar, hoping for a little socializing. There is no bar. I walk into the office and ask a woman who seems pissed, I think she tells me "room service only" Bummer, but what the heck, so I go back to the room and order by phone, Pollo enchiladas con mole y dos cervesas, (Chicken enchilada dinner and 2 beers) It was all under 5 bucks. Waiting for the food I flick on the TV, cable TV but it only has six channels and three of the channels are hardcore porn. Whooo, Scanning the room I notice three foil packets of you know what next to the bed plus lotions and potions. The bathroom has a normal toilet plus a toilet with what looks like a water fountain in the middle. I must be a little slow today but it do finally get it, I am in a s-e-x motel. I know about places like this when I lived in the Dominican Republic, it’s part of Latino culture. The garage stalls are so you can hide your vehicle. Funny! Waiting for my food the phone rings, a female voice is asking me something in Spanish. This is one time I have NO idea what is being asked, I can only imagine &@#. I just say in my best Spanish, "No, solo quiero comida gracias" (No, I only want the food, thank you). The room has a dumb waiter so I never saw your server. The food and beers come. I take the stuff off the dumb waiter and placed the Pesos plus tip in its place, I spin it around and closed the little door. I hear a faint "gracias". The food is fabulous and the beers sure hit the spot.
From Villahermosa I head north on the free Hwy. 180. This road skims right along the Gulf Coast and is in good shape with seaside scenery, and of course there are tons of fresh fruit and fruit juice opportunities. State of Campeche, Mexico.
Great cruising on a thin strip of land - Gulf coast in the state of Campeche, Mexico.
At Champoton I head south on 261 to 186 east. From the Gulf of Mexico to the Caribbean Sea, Hwy. 186 is a newly paved road but it has many deep dips, to the point where I have to slow it down under 60 MPH so as not to bottom out, weird. I am somewhere between the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea looking for a camping spot in the jungle. Things are looking eerie here. The Jungle is hot, moist, dense and dark, right up to the edge of the road. Wherever there is an area to pull off the road, the spot is loaded with garbage and crap everywhere, probably left from workers waiting to get picked up after work, or who knows. I find a rough service road in a jungle plantation of fruit trees. The ground is wet and spongy like thick weavings of moist plants. I am glad to get the tent setup and cool down. This is a hot jungle.
Belize: I rode to the Caribbean Sea, I like the way that sounds. I still have over a week before Heidi lands at the Belize City airport. The only thing I need to do now is reserve some beach paradise for when she arrives and be at the airport when she lands. Vida es Buena (Life is good!)
My first night in Belize is somewhere between the northern border and Belize City. The thick trail I found turns to standing water. I back the bike until the ground is dry, and park it for the night. Hang on! Much more to come …
Continued: ---> Page 3 <----
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Of course skip all the dribble if you like and just check out the photos
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