The Road Less Travelled

We awoke at 0530, and packed up some frosty bikes. Despite the cold, the BST equipped KTM lights off on the first kick.

We packed while we waited for dawn. When it came, it was beautiful, shrouded in fog and traces of pink and orange.

Bikes now packed, we each sipped a Coke [the coffee still sucks] to get a caffeine fix before we set out. It was below freezing, damp and foggy, but an utterly fantastic sunrise all the same.

When there was enough light to see, we left. A few miles out of town, I looked at my jacket, and it was completely crusted in ice. Then a lense fell out of my glasses. As I pulled over to repair it, a sole rider on a KLR thumped past. We waved. We never saw him again.

As we pulled back onto the road, we were in engaged in mortal combat with the mist until the north side of San Juanito, when the sun finally pulled rank and burned it away. Looking back to the south towards Creel, we considered the last few days. How many traveled that route before us? How about the route we took to get there? Not many.

The ready room on the 640 Adventure, as we droned along a sleepy Mexican highway.

As we decend towards 16 and turned towards Guerrero, the pine forest gives way to grasslands.

As we head north towards Matachi and near the turnoff to Gomez Farias, the road becomes lonely and long. The trip home is always this way.

As we crossed the Sierras towards Gomez Farias, we get a last great view south of the valley in which we came north from Copper Canyon.

Looking east, we can see the road descending before us. The view is amazing. Central Mexico is a vast, empty, and beautiful place.

Artistically depicted on a rock on the side of the road in the mountains just outside of Buenaventura, we found this ciphered:

Heading north again on a lonely highway, we contemplate the ride. Although short, we've seen much. Things we'd never have seen had we not risked the road less travelled. A risk always worth taking.

After passing through Buenaventura and getting fuel at Nuevo Casas Grandes, we reach Janos. There, we turn west towards Agua Prieta into a horrific headwind. The wind continues to pick up, rather dramatically, and we fight the cross winds for over 100 miles. The right side of my front tire is visibly worn from leaning into the wind.

Once again, we cross the Sierras after passing through a military checkpoint. This is the first checkpoint we saw on this whole ride - nearly 900 miles. We stop for water and a snack, as three bikes pass by - we wave - we were all in Creel just hours before.

Descending back into Sonora, the wind rages on, waging war with us as we press on to the border. As if it wants to send us back to the Barranca del Cobre. As if we had unfinished business there.

We reach the border at Douglas in eight hours, and turn in our importation permits.

We slink into line and make way back over the border into the USA, just as a group of several riders make their way into town, headed to Mexican customs.