Two Wheels to Adventure: The Takeaway

The motorcycle bit of our adventure is over...and thus, so is my blogging obligation.  We arrived in Redding, California this afternoon just in time to spend Valentine's Day with Peter's family.  So, this will be the last entry about our "Two Wheels to Adventure" tour.  My post is dedicated to our takeaway points, which we contemplated on the 200 miles of very curvy roads we took through Sonoma and Napa Valley today.  And speaking of miles, we put quite a few behind us.  Peter tallied about 3000 miles in the last two weeks, while I joined him for approximately 2/3 of that distance.  I'm proud of us for making it that far and never having a serious arguement.  I'm also extremely grateful to Peter for bringing us all that way without a single incident.  I had to put my trust in him completely, which was surprisingly easy.  Thanks, hon.

But now I'm very tired and ready to just live the last couple days in California without having to re-live it on the blog into the wee hours of the night.  I promise that I really have enjoyed sharing our adventure with you, but it's been a lot of work to do it every day.  I'll let you know if it ever becomes a book, but don't count on it.

For now, I'll use the photos from today's leg of the journey to illustrate the morals of our story.  Hope you enjoy.

Lindsey:  Eating good quality food every day is a necessary luxury.

Brioche French Toast with baked apples and bacon from
the El Dorado Kitchen.

Hot chocolate, of course.

Lindsey:  Memorable experiences take time, but are usually worth the effort.

We got off the motorcycle to taste wine.
The 5th glass was the best.



From far away these doors looked like spray paint.

Up close, though, they are cool stainless steel.

Peter:  Riding two-up on a motorcycle is not as much fun as riding by yourself.


Try everything once, and the good things twice.  We won't be doing this a second time.

Peter:  It's better to stay in a location more than one day in order to see everything it has to offer.


Being constantly on the road makes the good things whiz by too fast.

Whiz!

Peter & Lindsey:  Going on vacation with another person makes it more interesting.



Interesting, like my hair.

Two Wheels to Adventure: Wicked Winds and Rain

Today was the first time on this motorcycle trip that I was scared for my safety.  Sometime during the night, as we slept in a hotel in El Centro, some wicked winds started to blow.  It was loud enough to wake me a couple times and continued to blow even after the sun came up.  There was no avoiding it, so we suited up and and headed west toward San Diego.  The speed limit was 70 mph, which creates quite a bit of wind as it is, but today's wind was something else.  Signs along the road warned "STRONG WINDS NEXT 63 MILES" and I could feel my stomach tighten in anticipation.  While driving along the open highway by fields of cabbage, broccoli, and hay the wind stayed fairly constant and predictable.  We leaned sideways like those people in V-8 commercials who walked at a 45 degree angle to the ground.

Not a good sign for  a motorcyclist.

These massive windmills were working overtime.

As we climbed into the rocky foothills between us and the coast, the temperature dropped and the wind started blasting us with strong, sharp gusts.  As we emerged around a small hill onto a bridge spanning a ravine we were hit by such a hard and unexpected smack of wind that the motorcycle practically jumped sideways.  I instinctively grasped Peter's sides with my hands just to keep my balance, which I usually have tucked in my lap out of the wind.  As soon as we recovered from that gust, we were hit with another from the opposite direction...and another...and another.  We were being tossed back and forth so much that I really began to worry whether we could stay upright.  I shouted into my intercom to Peter, "Are we going to be okay?!"  What I heard was a maniacal laugh and his response, "Yeah, I'm alright."  I tried to glean some confidence from his answer, but found myself forgetting to breathe and holding his jacket so tight that my fingers were numb.  The wind was cutting through my gloves and my coat, but I didn't want to let go.  Every time we crossed a ravine and caught a strong wind shear my whole body tightened.  My muscles stayed flexed, squeezing the bike and Peter, in an attempt to feel stable as we were buffeted mercilessly by the freezing air.

Just when I didn't think I could take any more, Peter descended the other side of the pass and took an exit onto a smaller road lined with trees.  We immediately found a gas station where I broke out my heavy fleece layers for the first time on this trip and put it ALL on.  I did some jumping jacks on to get my blood flowing again, downed some hot chocolate with hazelnut coffee and caramel creamer to warm up my insides and mounted the bike again.  Even Peter stood inside the convenience store to warm his hands and put on an extra layer.

This mountain road was less windy, more picturesque, but still quite chilly.

Oh boy, here it comes...

Nothing on this toll road except us and the rain.

The layers made a big difference.  But my left arm was colder than my right because the right sleeve of my liner jacket is being used to pad my helmet and prevent it from bruising my head as it did the first few days.  We proceeded west through the mountains on a lovely winding road through horse ranches and under soaring hawks.  We emerged in southern San Diego just as an ominously dark gray bank of rain clouds descended.  I hoped we would avoid the rain, but we didn't.  Rain pelted us for the next fifty miles as we navigated our way to the beach, through Coronado, San Diego, Torrey Pines, Oceanside, San Clemente, and eventually to Highway 1 and Laguna Beach.  We were wet and deeply cold as we pulled up to an Italian-styled Holiday Inn.  Both of us struggled to work our fingers to undo the straps of our helmets and to form words with our numbed mouths.  We laughed at our slurred speech and because we were so glad to be done for the day.  After hot (really hot) showers and some free popcorn from the lobby we set off on foot to downtown Laguna Beach for some retail therapy and dinner.  Sometimes, the hardest days bring the best rewards.

Our hotel is like a European oasis.

Discovering curiosities in Laguna Beach.

This town is a sight for sore eyes, and heads, and hienies.

Warm bread, good company, and great beer!

Must find Leffe Brun beer back home!

Please note Peter's single mussel and my many.

Mmmm....Belgian Burger, endive, and green bean salad.

Sounds good.  Good night!

Two Wheels to Adventure: Hooray USA!

Today was a seriously long day for both of us and the internet is super slow, so I'll ask you to lower your standards for this blog right here and now.  Peter and I packed up and left Puerto Penasco, Mexico this morning.  We really enjoyed the people, the food, and the beach.  However, we were constantly struck by how well the Americans were living in Mexico while the Mexicans struggled to make ends meet.  Downtown Puerto Penasco had a lot of empty lots littered with trash and broken beer bottles.  Seedy is a good description of most parts of the town that we saw.  But then there were the American condominium communities with gates and private beaches with newly painted and pristine high-rise buildings.  The contrast was stark.  We opted to head back to the US because we'd seen about as much as we felt comfortable exploring and were ready to move on.

Breakfast in Mexico.

Heading out of Mexico.

We made it back to the USA.

We traced our route safely back to Arizona without any problems, grateful for the Mexicans who accommodated our lack of Spanish-speaking savvy.  Once across the border we appreciated how neat, modern, and clean all the roads and towns were in the USA.  The landscape was the same, and to a large extent so were the faces, but the affluence and pride in our country was pleasingly apparent everywhere we looked.  It was good to be home.

Meanwhile, our goal to reach El Centro in California meant that we had about 350 miles to travel.  Despite our day off in Mexico, our bodies were still sore and the motorcycle seat was not loving us.  We did our best to stop every hour or so, but by the time we pulled over each time we were in serious pain.  And it only got worse with each passing hour of riding.  My helmet continued to be the bane of my existence, though a sleeve of my jacket is helping matters somewhat.  I felt like a vice was slowly being tightened over every mile, bump, and buffeting from the wind.  The pain we were feeling got so bad by the time we reached California this afternoon that even Peter looked longingly into a Mercedes Benz we were passing and said, "I wish I was in that car."  Need I say more?

A rest-stop just north of the border.

It was so hot, I wished I was in shorts.

Can you tell he's tired?

Bad hair found here.

I couldn't even get excited about this fantastic Thai food.

Tomorrow we make for the coast and a more leisurely pace.

Two Wheels to Adventure: Viva Mexico!

After some debate, on my part, we finally rolled up to the Mexican border this afternoon.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Our day started off back in southern Tuscon at the Cat Mountain Lodge.  We awoke in our “green-rated” accommodations and meandered across the courtyard to the Coyote Pause Café.  Peter ordered Coyote hash and I enjoyed some authentic Huevos Rancheros on homemade fry bread. Our plan was to load up on a big breakfast that would last us until we reached Rocky Point (or Puerto Penasco) in Mexico.  We’ve been asking the question, “Have you been to Rocky Point?” to everyone we come across the last couple days, and following up with questions about safety and travel tips.  We asked waitresses, fellow tourists, hotel employees, and even the border patrol.  Across the board, the most common response we got was that the road to Rocky Point was safe during the day and commonly used by Arizonians to buy fresh seafood and take weekend vacations.  With those positive first-hand accounts we agreed to forge ahead into Mexico.

We're in cowboy country.

We traveled about 150 miles before we reached the border and both Peter and I started to feel the wear of those miles.  He fashioned a better backrest for me with another bag, but my head and my tail were still a constant source of discomfort.  I alternated between trying to raise my butt off the seat and pushing my helmet up just enough to take the pressure off my head.  Peter also started to complain about pain in his bottom due to there being less space to change positions on the motorcycle seat.  It seems that we were both feeling crowded on the bike, but misery loves company and at least we had that!  The only thing that took our minds off of our pain was the striking beauty of the desert landscape.  No two saguaro cactus looked alike and all were wildly interesting.

Looks just  like a wild west painting.

Finally, we arrived at the border.  The U.S. officials asked us a few questions and allowed us to leave our country without even looking at our passports.  A few yards down the road the Mexican officials did the same.  Then we rolled into Mexico, and what a change it was.  It’s hard to describe, so I’ll let photos do most of the work.  The landscape didn’t change, but suddenly we were in a 3^rd world country.  All the signs were in Spanish (of course) and the faces, buildings, and lives of the people were instantly foreign.

Leaving the U.S. Border stop.

Entering the Mexican Border stop.

Now in Mexico.

Can you imagine a sign like this for Mexicans in America?

 We traveled the 60 miles to Puerto Penasco without incident.  A checkpoint outside the town with armed military guards inquired about our visit, but let us pass without much ado.  We eventually found our hotel, checked in, ate dinner, and retired to the warmish outdoor hot tub for the evening.  Tomorrow we shop the Malecon...

Arrived safely at our lodging.

The beach in front of our hotel...still being developed.

Shrimp fajitas and pina colada.

Not bad, eh?