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: 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: Beach Bums

Today we were looking forward to taking a leisurely walk along the Malecon, or beachside boardwalk.  We decided to ride the motorcycle the few minutes to that side of town rather than walk through some of the more unsavory bits.  On the way over we heard the beep of a siren behind us and realized we were being pulled over by the police.  Damn!  What did we do?  We pulled over and were greeted by a young female officer who asked if we spoke Spanish.  When we said, “un poco (a little),” she called in her back-up.  She must have only spoke English ‘un poco.’  So, an older male officer sauntered up to us sucking on a lollipop (no, I’m not kidding).  He also reiterated how little Spanish we spoke as if to rub it in a bit while he thought of how to toy with us.  He proceeded to tell us that we’d missed a stop sign about a block back, which he attempted to point out to us, but we still couldn’t see.  Upon closer inspection we discovered that that were far more stop signs than we realized, often hidden behind trees, covered in graffiti, or anchored to unsuspecting electrical poles.  The officer continued to enjoy his sucker while having a discussion with his cohort about what to do with us.  Peter and I had been told that this might happen and that the end result would likely be a small fine of $20 or so to let us be on our way.  This is what was running through my mind as I listening to the Spanish tripping off his tongue.  I swear that I heard the word for ‘fifteen’ as he consulted with the female officer, so I began to anticipate a request for payment.  He turned to us, looked at the ground, sucked his lollipop, and made “um” sounds for so long that I finally asked him if we needed to pay some kind of fee.  He looked at me and said, “What?”  I told him I heard him say fifteen and asked if that was what we needed to pay to be on our way.  Almost immediately he turned to Peter and said, “Nah, you’re fine.  Go ahead, you’re good to go. Drive safe,” and he walked away.

This town is all about shrimp.

Beach side dining?

Wish I could take home one of those chiminea.

Puerto Penasco's Malecon.

Watch for those stop signs.

Does it need to be said that we kept our eyes peeled for stop signs after that?  In fact, the incident made us so paranoid that we quickly returned to our hotel after finding the Malecon full of pushy shrimp salesmen and little to look at.  We now worried about our every move, every turn, every parking spot.  So, we retreated like the gringos we are to our resort and comforted ourselves poolside with snacks from a nearby convenience store and soaked up some of the mid-day sun.

funny

Convenience store snacks.  Prices are in pesos (about $1:12.50)

Mmmm. Mexican junk food.

Mmmm.  Avocado with lime.

Look at that handsome devil in the hot tub.

 Our final adventure of the day was a long walk on the beach in front of our hotel, which turned out to be the highlight of our stay.  The fine sand stretched around the bay for at least a mile and was polka-dotted with the tiniest and most beautiful shells.  We explored tide pools as the water receded and I filled my pocket with beach treasures.  We held hands, pointed out interesting finds, and talked about what we will be like when we are old enough to retire to a place like this.  It was a lovely afternoon and we didn’t have to worry about looking out for stop signs.  Tomorrow we head back to Arizona to make our way to California.  You can be assured we’ll be watching every sign along the way.

Two babes on the beach.

Shrimp cocktail.

Mmmm.  Fish Tacos.

Surf and Turf with a Pina Colada makes Peter happy.

Good night Puerto Penasco!

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?