OK guys, let's rub this one out quick. Back in June, I got the stupid idea to drive all the way across half the country to attend the Chabochis rally down in Creel. Creel is a long way from Flatistan, in case you haven't looked at a map lately. (I was going to insert a nifty Google map to help make my point, but I can't figure it out. Screw it. Go look at a map for yourself and then nod your head in agreement, K?) A lot of people expressed interest initially, a few hung around, others dropped in and out. It's the nature of planning a trip like this. It takes a special kind to want to drive 4,000-plus miles on a week of vacation, including some 60 hours wadded up in a Nissan Frontier listening to XM and eating Funyuns. Only the strong survive. Introductions are in order: Ray, a.k.a. Fatalerror, The Driving Bitch, That Fucking Kiwi. Originally from South Africa, which makes him not a Kiwi at all, but all them foreigners sound the same, right? (Inside joke. Save the crabbing, please.) Eloy, goes by the ADV handle Dr. Z. Likes to dress in bright frilly shawls. Make of that what you will. Florida Sand Flea No. 1. Levent, known around these parts as Capotourer. Originally from Germany, grew up in Turkey and now lives in Sarasota. Claims he has no offroad skills yet was able to pilot a Caponord to Batopilas, a feat that has my butt clenching just thinking about it. He's the one in the middle without a weapon. And yours truly, squatting like a constipated mountain goat in this lovely self portrait. Florida Sand Flea No. 2. Let's do this thing communally, shall we? I'll start. The trip almost didn't happen at all due to the fact that our border crossing of choice, Presidio Texas, was under water for about three weeks. Going all the way to El Paso would have added another 500 miles to an already ridiculous amount of driving. Going across anywhere further west would mean way more Mexican miles, which is not a bad thing unless you have to keep a really tight schedule. So I actually wasn't planning on going at all until a week before the show, when I got a PM from Tury, a well-known Chihuahua connection and all-around great guy, that the flood waters had subsided. So we decide to roll. We left town on a Tuesday evening. Actually it was supposed to be Tuesday evening, but it turned into Tuesday night when we finally got nearly one ton of motorcycles loaded on a borrowed trailer. Dr. Z and I were under the impression that Ray was going to show up with the truck at about 5 ish. Ray was under the impression that he was going to show up at about 7:30 ish. Dr. Z waits impatiently to get the Death March to the border at Presidio under way. When we realized Ray wasn't going to get to my place for two more hours, we did what any good ADV rider would: grabbed some food and a few cervezas. I got no pics of that. Dr. Z? I'm going to bed now. Feel free to jump in, gentlemen.