So, the plan for the home stretch, so far as there was one, was to hit Copper Canyon for a few days, couple of days in Big Bend, then back to DFW. We’d lost a few of days here and there over the last few weeks, but still had plenty of time to get in some stellar riding. Eric had a birthday coming up that coincided with Thanksgiving and was making mumblings of heading home to spend it with family. Pyn and myself had nowhere better to be. I’ve done Copper Canyon a few times already, but knowing Pyn was going to be heading back to the UK in the New Year, this might be his one and only chance. We decided that we’d steal a few days off of Big Bend, we’ve done it to death already anyhow, and spend a couple of days in the canyons. We’d get Eric as far as Creel, then he could slab it home from there. We stopped in Los Mochis for gas and some road brekkie…Mars bars and Dr Pepper…only to realise while faffing about in the store I’d left my lights on and drained the battery. In hindsight, it would’ve been safer to hire some of the local farm labour… …but in the ongoing theme of Safety Third we opted to securely fasten two heavily laden bikes together and have one drag the other across a diesel covered car park. Another good reason to used straps instead of bungees. After getting up a head of steam I click it into second and drop on the seat only to have the rear lock and skid on the diesel. Rapidly running out of room, I go for it again in third. As I drop on the seat, Pyn gets on the binders to avoid running into the wall on the other side of the freshly used, wet, soapy, car wash we’ve now entered, and promptly locks up both wheels. I barely manage to pull in the clutch, and skid to a halt in the short length of the two straps separating us, and stop millimeters from collecting us both up and ploughing into the wall.