Corporate Runaways - Boston to Ushuaia on 2 BMW F650GSs

Woke up today to sunrise on the beach. We got to watch the sun come up over the Gulf of Mexico, and it was beautiful. We were camped maybe 100 feet from the water, in what seemed like it would be a glorious, picturesque paradise. Instead, we woke to find a fine spray of sea water all over everything.

The air felt moist, and yet, within minutes there was a film of salty sea spray on both bikes, the panniers, the spare tires, the dry sacks - anything we left outside. By the morning the tent fly was soaked in salt spray, and there was no chance of drying it because salt would continue to spray as we sat around trying to dry it. Somehow the water even seeped up from the sand, through the footprint, the tent floor and our foam sleeping pads to cover the bottom of our sleeping bags in a wet, slurry mess. We're at a loss to explain it.


Our first evening's camp spot


Invisible horizon


Beach Reflections


Boots

Sunrise on the beach was glorious, but not quite glorious enough to make up for sea water over everything. Our original plan had been to camp at Mustang Island State Park tonight, which is another beach, but after last night's sea water fiasco, we decided to source other camping. So today's destination became Lake Corpus Christi State Park, near Corpus Christi, TX.

The mornings riding revealed a wonderful thing. Somehow, overnight, it had become warm! Yesterday, I was still using the electrics on low on the interstate. Today, after riding for an hour to find breakfast, we packed our electrics away in the panniers. And our rain liners. We switched to summer gloves. And Kay even opened the jacket vents, which prompted me to do the same. It was glorious.

On the downside, today also dawned windy, and got more so as the day wore on. We were bent over at an angle until the very end of the day, and there was nothing we could do about it. Today was the first day I experienced the phenomena of leaning left to compensate for the wind while turning right. It really is a mind-fuck to be leaning the wrong way while turning.

To negate the winds, we took a mid-afternoon stop at Buc-ee's. We'd been seeing signs for Buc-ee's for what felt like a hundred miles. They promised free jerky samples, beaver nuggets, awesome food and other extraordinary delights. Surprisingly, Buc-ee's delivered.

We were awed by the selection of jerky options. There were nearly a dozen flavors (and of course we bought some). They also had fudge, Dippin' Dots - everything a hungry traveler could want for a long car ride. The bathrooms were extraordinarily lush. In all, it really was a traveler's paradise.

The only downside of Buc-ee's was the dirty looks we kept garnering from conservatively-dressed, middle-aged, cowboy-hat-wearing Texas men. I don't know what they have against motorcyclists dressed in full gear, but Kay and I both got a plethora of dirty looks from these gents. It was quite odd. The greeter asked us if we were sky divers, and later we ran into a guy at a gas station who said we looked like "those guys who fly up in the sky… you know". Apparently they don't see a lot of people in full gear around here.

We ended the day at Lake Corpus Christi State Park. We got into the park just around dusk, and we were racing the sunlight to find a spot and set up camp. First we dodged deer and tried the wooded area. The ground was too lumpy to find a good spot for a tent. Then we tried next to the lake. The lake was too windy, and we didn't want a repeat of last night. Finally, we settled on a spot further from the lake, sheltered from the wind by some trees. It was just right.

Except for the burrs. Apparently here in Texas, they don't have normal burrs like we have up North. Here in Texas, the burrs are painful motherfucking burrs that will CUT YOU if you're not careful. And they stick to everything. (Although our motorcycle gear seems to be somewhat impervious - yay, cordura!) Availed ourselves of the lovely shower facilities, and now we and our underwear are clean. Huzzah!

We're only about 150 miles from the border, but we're thinking that tomorrow we're going to move to a state park closer to the border, and mount my new tires so we've got less to carry. We're also going to examine our luggage and hopefully prune something because Kay's bike is very top heavy - you could probably push it over its kickstand with a couple of fingers. Not exaggerating. You really could. As of now, we're planning to spend the night near the border and get up early in the AM on Friday and cross it. Mexico, here we come!

Obviously a little behind, and we expect we won't have net access consistently now that we're leaving the country. We'll still write the daily reports and upload them in batches whenever we have net.

Posting now from Starbucks in McAllen, TX. The hardened adventurers sit down to a nice... mocha frappucino?

As of now, the plan is still to hare off to a campsite and mount my tires, and hopefully cross to Mexico tomorrow!

Did I mention we don't really speak Spanish?

Let the adventure begin!

Thanks for posting. I have been watching your Spot. Have a safe crossing into Mexico tomorrow. You know from what you said the greater in restaurant said to you and guys giving you the dirty looks sound like to me it was meant as slam. I wonder if guys giving you the eye owned the restaurant and the gas station. Just wondering.

I think the biggest rule of adventuring is that things won't go according to plan. Today was a good example of that. We took showers last night and washed our underwear, which we (being the urban sophisticates that we are) left drying on our bikes along with the towels. We we work up the entire park was in a deep fog and everything was covered with a thick layer of dew.

I (Kay) tried rearranging the tires on my bike because of how ridiculously top-heavy it is with them on it, but that ended up going nowhere.



Top-Heavy Bike

So, we packed up our tent with its wet fly-sheet, our damp towels and underwear, and set off, agreeing to stop at the first interesting place we saw for food, which turned out to be Michael and Mom's. A woman on the phone in there told the person on the other end that she was at "The Restaurant" because it literally was *the* restaurant. This was a one light town. But the food was great. Between us we had excellent home made biscuits, sausage, gravy, and delicious pancakes the size of your head. Neither of us could finish our plates, although we definitely tried.

I'm carrying around far more stickers than we need and the plan has been to drop them off at a post office, but the one we passed this morning we weren't ready for, and the ones we told the GPS to find for us either didn't exist, or had their employees out to lunch (literally).

During this search, we found ourselves on Route 666… incidentally, this plays an important part in the rest of the day.



Route 666

We made our way to some Bentsen-Rio Grande State park, and were thoroughly disheartened when we got there. It was RVs as far as the eye could see. So, with sunset on our heels we turned around to grab food at the nearest place (a Jack-In-the-box… bleh) then came back, only to find out that the entryway beside the endless RVs wasn't actually the entrance to the park even though the GPS said it was right there, and there was a sign for some butterfly place on that road. No. it was the road at that intersection that had the large "Road Closed" signs across it.

Under normal circumstances we'd have turned around and taken one of the nearby dirt roads and found some little hideaway place to stick the tent, but the Border Patrol isn't just vigilant here, they're fucking omnipresent. Every back road we went down or passed seemed to have a Border Patrol SUV on it, and they're specifically out looking for people being a lot sneakier than we could be with a 3 person tent, so there was no way we'd be able to hideycamp without getting hassled. (Did I mention this park is just a few miles from the border? No wonder border patrol is everywhere.)

The next nearest state park was 50 miles away, and searching for "campground" would have yielded 500 RV parks and probably no tent campgrounds. It was time for an alternate plan.

But, I've left out one important detail. Not long after our failed Post Office hunt Dachary had me pull over to tweak my tires. (On the infamous Route 666, I must point out.) After tweaking I got back on the bike and realized I didn't have my gloves, so I leaned the bike over onto the kickstand only to discover that I'd already lifted the kick stand, and down it went.

"Hmm." I thought. "It's not all the way down since it's leaning on that little hill. I can probably lift it myself without issue." At which point I proceeded to lift with my back, and not with my knees. I got it up, but the right sight of my back paid a pretty hefty price. It hurt a bit initially, but it wasn't too bad, and there wasn't much I could do anyway, so off we rode and I mostly forgot about it until we got to the Jack-In-The-Box. When I got off the bike there I started walking around tilted to the right like I had scoliosis and in a bunch of pain. Apparently the only position that doesn't hurt my back, besides laying down, is hunched over like I'm riding a motorcycle.

And that, plus the Road Closed sign, and the sun that had already set, is how we find ourself in a Quality Inn tonight. Dachary's threatening to stay another day if my back is still hurting but I really want to get out of this city. The room is nice but it's another $50+ a night and McAllen Texas just depresses me. I hate this massive urban sprawl.


Unloading in Style by CorporateRunaways, on Flickr

(Dachary's Note: What Kay doesn't mention is that he's seriously in a lot of pain. Every little thing, from rolling over to sneezing, elicits an "ouch." Short of a miraculous recovery overnight, I don't even see how he'll get out of bed tomorrow - let alone ride. Add to that the stress of our first border crossing, and having a top-heavy bike since we didn't get to mount my new tires tonight - and I'm leaning toward it probably not happening. But we'll see in the AM.)

I'm sad to hear about your pain Kay.
I wish it will pass soon!

WELCOME HOME!!!!!!

Don't push it people. An additional day of healing in a boring, drab town could be the difference between an fun adventure through Northern Mexico or a pain filled trek over some roads that won't be remembered over the pain. Worst case scenario, (money-wise), head north a bit and find a camp to hang in. I tried a ride in pain once, thinking I'd "push through", I barely remember the cool sites we saw, but I clearly remember the pain each gust of wind brought.

BTW; I tried the spot tracker today and got nothing.

TK-LA I agreed with your comments. I have arthritis spurs that hit a nerve in back every few years from too much lifting. It take 3 days of bed rest for me to get back on my feet.
I have looked at Spot today and they have not turned it on today.

http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0AyhAVTdqgq7WXnUVDQiLjqbnrFFW5TN7

Wait! I think their spot-tracker is now located on the other side of the border...

Be careful my friends and stay far from Nuevo Laredo. 191 prisoners just escaped from a prison there.

Today has been a draining day. We woke up at 6:30AM to try to get everything packed up and cross the border early, if Kay's back was ok. Kay's back was *mostly* ok and neither of us particularly wanted to sit around in McAllen any longer than we had to, so we decided to head out.

We packed everything up. We're still carrying around extra tires because we haven't gotten around to mounting my new ones yet (and the tread on my existing tires is actually quite good still, considering that they have 8k miles on them - I just don't particularly trust them in iffy conditions). We headed out, determined to change some cash at a bank before we crossed into Mexico. It took a while to get cash out of an ATM, and then to get it changed. Then we stopped at a grocery store to grab some emergency rations in case we'd get to "hidey camp" this evening (mac & cheese) and get gas, and that took longer than expected.

By the time we got to the border crossing at Progresso, our 6:30AM start had it turned into nearly 11:30AM. We pulled up at the office. There were only two people in line when we went to the immigration lady, and we thought we'd be lucky. But she started speaking Spanish to us, and when we conveyed that we don't speak Spanish, she switched to English long enough to ask "Where are you going?" and then went back to Spanish to tell us that she couldn't do our paperwork. We'd need to go to another border crossing "10 minutos" down the road.

So we had to turn around and go back through American customs. We had to wait in line, and the customs guy made Kay open his panniers and asked me some questions even though we didn't have any stamps in our passport and hadn't actually made it to Mexico. He told Kay that the lady at the immigration office could have processed our paperwork - she just didn't want to. Presumably because we didn't speak Spanish.

The "ten minutes" turned into an hour, wherein we stopped to grab a quick lunch (burritos standing by our bikes) and bathroom break. Luckily, the place where we stopped to use the bathroom was right next to the road we were supposed to take to the next border crossing, which wasn't signed from the direction we were traveling but Kay saw the sign when he was coming back from the post office next door. (Still trying to mail off the stickers - post office was out for lunch.)

When we arrived at border crossing number 2 for the day, it was around 12:45PM. We went inside, and everyone seemed to know exactly which line to get into. Some guy whistled and pointed us to a line, so we went and stood in line but the official was waving people in from a different part of the queue. I tried to send Kay to get in that line, but the official then pointed us to go back to where we'd been standing. None of this was signed.

We stood in line for a while, and then when we got to the window the guy didn't really speak English. He spoke a little, and we spoke a (very little) Spanish and got the paperwork that we'd need from him. He then sent us off to fill out the paperwork, and get back in a different line that still went to his station once we'd completed the form for the tourist visa. After he checked in our tourist visas, he sent us to get in line to pay for them.

We went. We waited in line. We paid. When we paid, the guy asked if we were checking in motos, and then indicated that we needed to go back to the immigration guy and then to aduana to check in the bikes. Went back to the immigration guy, who finally stamped our passports. Then we walked over and stood next to the aduana for a few minutes, and someone came out with us to the bikes to confirm that the VIN numbers on our registrations matched the VIN numbers on the bikes.

After that, we went back inside and waited again to pay for the bikes. Took a long time to get the temporary vehicle importation permits, but that was the last step. We were officially checked into Mexico! This happened at around 2:30PM, so it took us close to 2 hours with all of the waiting in line. All in all, it wasn't so bad - I'm anticipating much worse border crossings further on.

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Side notes: $262 MEX for immigration and $448 MEX on your card to guarantee you won't sell the bike (prices are per bike/person). You get the $448 back when you check your bike out of the country. Also, they want a photocopied sheet with both your passport and drivers license on it. They were able to make one at our border crossing, but better to have one in advance.
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But it had become apparent that we were in another world, and I was more and more regretting that we didn't speak Spanish. We rode on for a bit, still thinking of lunch, and picked a random roadside rotisserie chicken stand to grab eats. I sent Kay to fetch food while I stayed with the bikes, and he came back with the most delicious chicken and potatoes that had been sitting in the chicken drippings… it was divine. By far, best meal of the trip. Was around $8, fed us both and we had leftovers for dinner.

While we were eating, though, something rather horrific happened behind us. We were right on a major road, and a pick-up truck came by and happened to hit a bump. The yellow dog in the back of the pick-up truck bounced up and came flying out of the truck bed… and landed in the road, where he was immediately run over by the car following close on the pick-up's heels.

The poor dog made the most pitiful whimper. I've never heard anything like it. It immediately made me homesick for my own dog, who I haven't spared more than a passing thought for since we started the trip. Kay looked over and confirmed that the dog was still down, and was bleeding from the head. I lost it.

I know it was just a dog. We've passed many more since leaving that town, dead by the side of the road, probably killed in similar accidents. The poverty of the people here is much more heart-wrenching than a single dead dog, but the dog was a touchstone for my life back home - something I could relate to. I suddenly felt very far from home in an unfriendly place. I ended up crying in my helmet for miles over that dead dog.

Shortly thereafter, we reached our first military checkpoint (where they had us stop - we'd passed one before where they waved us through). They made Kay open his panniers, but the guy just asked me if I spoke Spanish, and when I confirmed that I didn't, he didn't try to say anything else. I could see him admiring the bikes and could tell he wanted to talk to us, but we didn't have a shared language to speak.

We had a similar experience at the customs stop we hit a little further on - one guy there spoke a bit of English but mostly we couldn't communicate. He wished us luck, and we thanked him. That was more-or-less it.

Thinking I could use a bathroom break and a minor recalibration, we stopped at the next Pemex (gas) station we saw. While we were there, a truck load of military guys arrived and started going through the cars parked there. They searched the other cars. They searched people's personal belongings. When I went inside, they were even getting a register printout from the cash register. This was totally alien for me. We simply don't have anything like this in the US, but the people here were acting like it was an every-day occurrence. Kay started to surreptitiously film it, but one of the military guys noticed and asked him to stop. Nicely, but firmly.

Maybe ten or fifteen miles after leaving the Pemex station, I asked Kay if he was noticing anything weird with his bike's front end. I wasn't sure if the road surface was being weird, or if maybe I needed air in my tire, but I was starting to have something like speed wobbles. It didn't feel like speed wobbles, though, and there was no reason for it to have started in the middle of the day like that. We pulled over again in front of a vulcanizer (tire repair guy - I might not be spelling that right) and I checked the air pressure in the front tire, and dialed up the pre-load a bit. Didn't help - in fact, I noted that the wobbles were getting worse.

At this point, it was probably 30 minutes from sunset and Kay and I had no idea where we were going to sleep. We'd planned to be much further from the border than where we were, and we were thwarted by all of the open fields surrounding this major road. There wasn't really any cover to hidey-camp - it was all wide open land. And the road itself was extremely busy - there was no chance to pull off without someone noticing. With all of the military presence, I just wasn't comfortable trying to find a spot to hidey camp. So we really didn't have a plan, except to keep riding and I assume we were both hoping for the landscape to change so we could find a hidden spot to camp.

But with my wheel being wibbly, on top of all of the other stress of the day, I was mentally shutting down. I didn't know what to do. I had no idea what was going on with my bike, and we had no place really to stop and figure it out. Then, like magic, we saw a "Hotel" sign. Kay asked if I wanted to stop, or if we wanted to try to find some place to hidey-camp still, and I completely bailed. I left the decision entirely in his hands - I was just too overwhelmed to try to figure out what to do. I didn't feel very much like an adventurer at all, at that point.

Kay made an executive decision to stop at the hotel parking lot when we arrived a couple of minutes later. We pulled in, and I was having trouble putting my bike on the sidestand. I tried moving the bike a bit and was still having trouble - there didn't seem to be enough angle to get the bike onto the stand. And then I remembered when we had a problem like that before, and asked Kay "Is my rear tire flat?"

Yep. The rear tire had been slowly going flat, probably since we left the Pemex around a half hour before. We had maybe 20 minutes of sunlight, and we had no idea how far we were to the next town. No idea what would be involved in fixing the tire. Yet here we were stopped in a hotel's parking lot.

Kay went in and secured us a room, and it turns out the place is surprisingly nice. $30 for a night, secure parking in a guarded courtyard, internet (wired) and television, and a clean, pleasantly-decorated room. The beds are a little firm, but everything else is better than we could have hoped. Kay said when I wheeled my bike into the courtyard "the gods have heard your pleas." And they had.

I have a flat tire. I assume we'll be able to fix it in the morning, or take it to one of the tire guys who is ubiquitous in this area. We have a safe place to sleep, and the bikes are locked up in a secure courtyard. Hopefully we'll have a better plan for tomorrow.

Mexico has caught us completely unawares, methinks, and left us feeling off-kilter. We need to learn Spanish ASAP.

Kay's equipment notes: the latches on the Happy Trails panniers make it a pain in the ass to open them at military checkpoints. Particularly when you have something anchored down to the pannier handles (which we added), and using a padlock to secure them.

Thanks for updated report.

what kind of mileage/range you getting/

If it helps, I've been running tubeless tires for years with tubes in them. I have spoked wheels so it isn't just a preference but I actually like it as the tires tend to be better and it gives you a lot more options for tires. They are designed to seat on the bead w/ no tube and hold air. Some tube style tires can be a little more imperfect because they know you are using a tube to hold air, not the bead.

I know you have already bought tires but if it helps for down the road, just my $0.02.

You guys have the right style. Get all the bad luck out up front!

Our bikes are heavily loaded and up until we've crossed into Mexico, we've largely been riding the interstate at 70+MPH. On a good day, that translates to around 160 miles before the gas light comes on. On a windy day, the gas light has come on as early as 143 miles. It's been around 50-55MPG (i.e. 3-3.25 gallons per bike when we fill up).

Yesterday and today we weren't riding as much interstate - i.e. not as fast. We seem to be getting more range now, although I don't have enough data yet to conclusively say what the mileage is at lower speeds. We'll keep you posted when we have more data.

Tons of tire shops in mexico that can do a fair job at patching them, but running a tube might be the way to go. Normally the tire shops signs say something "vulcan..." (vulcanized rubber) which are preferable to a regular repair shop... Congrats on making Mexico, not too much English outside the big cities.

Cruise over any topes at speed yet? :eek1

Cheers.

"Llantas" or "montallantas" I believe.

I'll be following daily now that you are across. 1st, very sorry about the dog incident. I believe he's in Doggy heaven with unlimited time to play.
I have a 8' high map of mexico in my kitchen so bring on the details
Can you post via smartphone? I was thinking that if you could and you ran into a problem like yesterday, you could post a couple of hours before darkthirty and one of us might be able to research hotels options by the time you get to a given town. Just a thought. Greg

Deep breath, relax, have a beer, relax, deep breath, repeat....... <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" /><o></o>
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I remember the cultural clash the first time I went to Honduras. We landed at the airport and on the taxi ride to the Hotel (in La Ceiba) between the homes (shacks) the Army (loaded with M16's and shotguns in the back of rusty, decrepit civilian pickup trucks Somalia style) downtown packed with people walking everywhere and all staring at us Gringos we arrived at the Hotel and thought "What have we done, why are we here, we will be robbed and killed by sundown".<o></o>
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We went to the rooftop of the Hotel, had a couple of beers and braved the downtown streets during a blackout which occurred shortly after sundown. Two hours later, after a couple of candle lit bars and an amazing beach restaurant we fell in love with Honduras and its people. We rented a car and drove Country wide. We returned to Honduras time after time and will never forget that first day. <o></o>
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I see that you are heading to Ciudad Victoria. Do your mind a favor, ride to Guanajuato, find a Hotel downtown, park your bike and spend a couple of days there. You can then visit San Miguel de Allende and its surrounding Towns. Once you are acclimated you will not believe how much better you will feel, and I cannot think of a better place to do so........<o></o>
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Keep it on two wheels, and never forget to smile when you don't understand a word they are saying .....<o></o>

Unfortunately, I've got an iPhone, which means I've got AT&T. The cost for international data is *insane*. I've left my phone on with international roaming in case there's an emergency, but no data. So posting in that way isn't really an option. We're still hoping that as we get further from the border and the coast we'll find more places where we can hideycamp. The hotel where we stayed last night is at the intersection of two major roads - 97 and 180. Our current destination is Ciudad Victoria, and eventually on to Xilitla.

lukeman - I accidentally did topes at speed (around 40mph) yesterday - actually wasn't so bad at all. But most of the topes we've passed, people have been ahead of us going SO SLOW that hitting them at speed hasn't been an issue.

Today's adventure so far...

Got up early today to deal with my flat. Went outside to find it was FRICKING COLD and put my bike up on the center stand so we could check out the tire. Discovered pretty quickly that I must have picked up a nail somewhere. Dismounted the tire fairly efficiently, and then proceeded to break the bead.

We've done this before. We've installed both of Kay's tires, and we know what a PITA it can be to break the bead. We've got a Bead Breaker for just this reason. Were able to break the bead fairly easily on one side once we'd remembered how to put it together, but we simply could not break the bead on the other side of the tire. We futzed with it for over an hour before Kay decided to ride the tire to the nearest talache (sp?) to have him deal with the tire for us. Kay strapped the tire down to his bike and went riding off.

(We knew about the vulcaniziers, but there was a guy staying here last night who had Minnesota plates on his SUV - he apparently moved down here years ago and had lots of good info for us, and he told us to look for a "talache" or something like that, which is a slang term for the same thing, and doesn't even appear in most of the dictionaries. We asked the security guard who's patrolling the courtyard for the nearest one, and he indicated that it's just down the way.)

Much to my surprise, Kay was back less than 10 minutes later, minus my rear tire. Apparently the talache had gotten the tire off quickly and discovered that the tube was no bueno. It couldn't be patched - it had a tear in it over an inch long. So Kay was coming back to get one of our replacement rear tubes - we're carrying two tubes for each tire. Unfortunately, that only leaves us one replacement rear for two bikes, and we've only been in Mexico for a day.

We should probably try to find a new rear tube soon…

(Final tally: about 20 minutes of work and $30 MEX (less than $3 us) and I have a fully functional tire again. Now we just have to re-mount it, load up, shower, find breakfast and hit the road...

Kay reports, by the way, that the gods must REALLY love me... because in the same complex where we have the hotel and gas station (where I just happened to pull over with a flat) there was a vulcaniziadora with SIX BAYS, a lift and a real professional setup. Not just some guy by the side of the road with some rims sitting around. My tube was royally effed, and I couldn't have asked for a better place to have this problem...