Ugh, Day 9!
Dia Nueve. You Fíed me hard Number 9. Love potion number nine my ass. Fíed Hard. Hard enough to nearly rip my right pelican case pannier from its mount. Hard enough to crack my pannier mount. Hard enough to grind an edge off my pelican case. Son of a bitch. And to think that Tom and I wondered how our gear would hold up in case we laid down our bikes. Well. Today, day nine. DAY NINE! Day nine gives us an answer.
Here goes day nine.
Oh sunny Ensenada. We shall leave you today. Where are we going? South. To somewhere below where we are now. On the map we see, La Bahia de Las Angeles. Letís go half way there. Sounds good. Well, thatís about Rosario. Sweet.
Onward! Sarah on the fly. I was chasing her (at 55mph) so she was the photo subject at the time.
I buzzed ahead of everyone and snagged a couple photoís as they rolled on by. First Tom, and then Sarah again.
Time for some good. Hambureguesas and papas for 40 pesos. Add a coca, 12 pesos. Less than 5 bucks. Canít beat this shit. Gets cheaper as we head further south into Mexico. Awesome.
Ahhhh, whatís that I hear? A bit of Mexican advertisement? Bet your ass it is.
Ahhh, the roads were good, and the traffic was light. But what is that I see? A road alongside the road? Yes it is! Letís ride it! How fast? Fassssst enough. Charlie took his turn.
Getting down to the road was an exercise in caution. Gotta make sure you leave the road correctly, and hit the gravel / hard pack dirt at the right speed/angle. That was the easy part. The hard part? Going slow.
Why should we go slow you ask? Ahhhhh. Because things like this jump up to bite you in the ASS!!!
Gnarly ruts. COMBINED WITH MUD!
And ending with MORE RUTS! DAMMIT!
SON OF A BITCH!!!
Oh by the way. Half of those ruts and smear marks? Those were my tires. And my ASS. And my pelican case. Yea. You heard me. Kiss my ass dirt!
My bike was loving this shit.
And my bike (Klous) kicked that muds ass. NOT the other way around.
Me? I got dirty THROUGH my helmet. Hell yes. Love this!
However, my pelican case didnít enjoy the tryst we had with the dirt. In fact, it hated it. Damn dirt bent the hell out of my luggage rack. And cracked it in two places.
And the other side of the damage.
And what it SHOULD look like.
The next gas station was literally across the street from the crash site. Best part, and the part I didnít photograph was the little boy that ran across the street and unabashedly starting hawking his wares. A cooler full of tamales. I didnít buy any buy Sarah did. He got some gum off of Charlie and Tom, and laughed when they took a picture of my dirty pants. He was a goofy little kid, probably about 7 years old. Loving life when we 4 gringos slid into town. Pun intended. Damn kids do the darndest things.
Well, after that, I rode slow(er) as the bottom of my right side pelican case mount is now nonexistent, and my rack is bent to all hell. And we rode to Rosario, which apparently is the last gas before we are able to ride to La Bahia de Los Angeles. So we stopped for the night.
Ugh. My shit is all wacked out now.
But it doesnít matter, because it wonít cost much to fix the problem, and it wonít be hard either. But dammit. Itís a pain in the rear for sure.
Soooo. How did it happen? Iíll start at the beginning.
I was hauling along the road, cruising safely at about 60-65 mph. Not an issue. Well that road along the side of the road looked fun. So I wanted to ride on it. It was great fun for the first mile or so. But it was a bit gnarly too. So I got back on the road. Well. Charlie thought it was a good idea too. So he hopped on the road too. You saw the photos above. Well, I thought Iíd better get back on that dirt.
And so I did. And shortly thereafter, I was moving along at a good clip. Until I saw the mud, and it was too late. I didnít slow down. I simply chose what I thought would be the best route. And I think it was. I was going about 60mph, if not a bit faster. And suddenly I was sliding along quite nicely on my right side. My front tire hit the ruts, but my back tire slid up above it. I went down fast, low siding it. Getting very dirty along the way. Grinding an edge into my pelican case. Letting my Revíit Sand pants take the abrasion out of my ass.
My Pelican case saved my bike. No damage to the bike whatsoever. I slid about 250 feet before I hit a very small stump at about 5mph. The damn stump is what did the damage to my pannier rack. I had slid free and clear for quite a while, and it wasnít until the stump that anything major happened. I hit the stump, and was knocked loose from my bike. I had been riding it out the entire time until I hit the stump. The bike went down, and I slid perpendicular to the road. About ĺ of the way into it, I began to spin clockwise until my bike had spun 180 degrees, at which point the stump inserted itself into the equation, and I let go/was removed from my bike. My head hit the ground in a very MINOR way, and I was instantly up to lift my bike off the ground.
The bike started and ran well. Nothing besides the pannier mount was bent. My helmet, jacket, pants, gloves, and boots were intact. I was fine. Even now, even 6 hours later, I am not even sore. Excellent. Tom and I had discussed who would be first. I was first. Success.
Mom and Dad. Iím not coming home soon. The bike still runs. I am physically well. The bike needs little fixing. Donít be scared/worried. It was fun. Enjoy it with me! Thatís why we ride ATGATT (All The Gear, All The Time).
Charlie was the only person to witness the slide, and had just turned off his helmet cam. What a shame. He admitted later that he was worried that his day was about to get a bit more intense then he had planned it to be. However, I had other plans. Back on the road!
A quote from Charlie, ďI reckon thatíll be the best Stack of the entire trip! Stacking it up at 60mph hardly ever ends in a result like that. Well done! I thought for sure itíd be worse than that!Ē