Day 41
I hesitate to start this post because I'm not confident I can even put today into words. In one day, the trip we were on is over and something else entirely has begun. Or perhaps, the trip didn't really start until today.
I woke up in the camper and made my way inside. Charlie had stirred early and made green tea for us. The local news was on and we heared sensational reports of the oncoming Santa Ana winds. Unclear if they would help or hurt us. We were on wheels in record time, rolling out of the 'Capri Lodge' park before 8am. First stop: Starbucks. Had to get our fill of clean water and send goodbyes over wifi while we could. Then, off to San Ysidro and into the border.
The winds were strong but from no consistent direction. We exchange money and hid it in many different places all throughout our stuff. As we approached the checkpoint, the actual place to cross became unclear and we asked the most idiotic of questions to the officer (uh... we want to get across. Where do we go?). We went rhrough a turnstile and under a big sign that read "MEXICO." We walked our bikes through a winding line to a desk, then were escorted into a side room, given to another man, who gave us paperwork, asked us for $30 each, and we got our stamps. Around the corner there was an X-ray machine and I was worried we's have to unload everything, but the lady waved "Está bien," and we walked right by. That was it.
On the otherside, it was a whole 'nother story. Many guys calling atbus fir taxi rides, the smell of exhaust, very lax traffic rules... We saw a sign for "Zona Centro" and followed it. We came over an overpass and saw the city, low but dense. Two men on either side walked with a guitar and upright bass without cases. We rode under a large arch fhat read 'Tijuana.' Here we are. We pulled over and tried to figure out how to get to the Mex Hwy 1 (the libre, or free road, not the Quota, toll road). An elderly man tried to help and we tried to respond, but his directions were questionable. So we ended up riding through town, a left here, and right there, heading the general direvtion of South. We were very excited through all of this, and mostly we were stunned that we were actually in Mexico. After all this time...
We found the libre eventually and rode for a ways in the traffic (no shoulder, lots of trash, hot sun, wind), and soon realized how tired we were. The adrenaline had been pumping since the border and it didn't seem like it would let up anytime soon. Fortunately, a man driving out of the restaurant near where we had stopped rolled down the window and said "You look like you're going a long way." We learned he used to live in Tacoma! "This is my Restaurant, go fill your waters!" Soon, his wife came out and gave us each an icy cranberry juice. It was very sweet.
The intensity of Tijuana continued all the way through Rosarito, with the addition of a large hill. This was some crazy freeway riding. Chill by no means.
Past Rosarito the strip of towering hotels and american chain stores mixed with cheap mexican tiendas of all kinds continued but became more spread out. filled in by empty desert. Lluc was in the mood and we stopped at the first taco stand we saw. It was actually papusas, but it was close enough. Talked to some more noce folks there, all of them admiring thr journey but telling us we're crazy.
The day was hot and although the traffic relaxed, being on one road can get to your head. It was hard riding. We stopped again at a roadside bar and realized we were exhausted. A nice dude named felipe told us if we make it to San Miguel (where we were headed) to say hello for him to the old Ex-nun who drinks named Mary. Good thing we talked to him because he convinced us to get off the libre there and get into the Quota (pretty much the interstate) to avoid a big hill and get better shoulder. We did, and there was better pavement, but the semi trucks were taking down the road and there were a lot. Not a calm ride. After who knows how many miles (it's all in kilometers) we started to climb, and continued for too long, before stopping at the top where some vendors were set up. I got some dates (realized I should practice my bargaining) and some water from a questionable bucket. There a view of a mighty bay and a sign: downhill fot 13km.
The road dove sharply down and everything got faster. The wind made the bike wobble with speed. Then, construction. It narrowed to one lane. Cliff close to the right. Narrow bridges. Rumble strips. It was almost too much to keep track of. Just try to forget how scary this is and keep the thing straight and hold on to the brakes.
Finally we made it to the bottom. There was a toll booth, and I knew we weren't allowed on this road but there wasn't a good way to escape it. We waited in line until the agent just pointed at us and motioned for us to get out. So we just passed around the side and left.
Around the corner was San Miguel. A cobblestone street lead us to the green house where Michelle lived, another connection of the girlfriend's clan. A beach house that had been in the family a while. We were welcomed aaaand probably a bit wide eyed after that ride. A shower and some laundry by hand before sitting rooftop to watch the sunset.
Later, a friend of Michelle's came by and we all went into town (El Sauzal) to try their favorite taco stand. It was a mob around a counter (no clear line) and the child's were chopping and throwing meat around, creating the grill with a hair dryer... We ate, I was out of it and thinking it was all a strange dream. In the process we talked with Juan, the husband of the friend, who told us there did conditions of where we were going were very bad. And the other way is very busy. Also there's lots of drunk drivers on the weekend. It was poor news and we've never felt this unsure about our course. The stakes have been raised and it's eay to start to wonder what we're here for. We sleep without knowing what we will do in the morning. But at least we know, we made it to Mexico.
I woke up in the camper and made my way inside. Charlie had stirred early and made green tea for us. The local news was on and we heared sensational reports of the oncoming Santa Ana winds. Unclear if they would help or hurt us. We were on wheels in record time, rolling out of the 'Capri Lodge' park before 8am. First stop: Starbucks. Had to get our fill of clean water and send goodbyes over wifi while we could. Then, off to San Ysidro and into the border.
The winds were strong but from no consistent direction. We exchange money and hid it in many different places all throughout our stuff. As we approached the checkpoint, the actual place to cross became unclear and we asked the most idiotic of questions to the officer (uh... we want to get across. Where do we go?). We went rhrough a turnstile and under a big sign that read "MEXICO." We walked our bikes through a winding line to a desk, then were escorted into a side room, given to another man, who gave us paperwork, asked us for $30 each, and we got our stamps. Around the corner there was an X-ray machine and I was worried we's have to unload everything, but the lady waved "Está bien," and we walked right by. That was it.
On the otherside, it was a whole 'nother story. Many guys calling atbus fir taxi rides, the smell of exhaust, very lax traffic rules... We saw a sign for "Zona Centro" and followed it. We came over an overpass and saw the city, low but dense. Two men on either side walked with a guitar and upright bass without cases. We rode under a large arch fhat read 'Tijuana.' Here we are. We pulled over and tried to figure out how to get to the Mex Hwy 1 (the libre, or free road, not the Quota, toll road). An elderly man tried to help and we tried to respond, but his directions were questionable. So we ended up riding through town, a left here, and right there, heading the general direvtion of South. We were very excited through all of this, and mostly we were stunned that we were actually in Mexico. After all this time...
We found the libre eventually and rode for a ways in the traffic (no shoulder, lots of trash, hot sun, wind), and soon realized how tired we were. The adrenaline had been pumping since the border and it didn't seem like it would let up anytime soon. Fortunately, a man driving out of the restaurant near where we had stopped rolled down the window and said "You look like you're going a long way." We learned he used to live in Tacoma! "This is my Restaurant, go fill your waters!" Soon, his wife came out and gave us each an icy cranberry juice. It was very sweet.
The intensity of Tijuana continued all the way through Rosarito, with the addition of a large hill. This was some crazy freeway riding. Chill by no means.
Past Rosarito the strip of towering hotels and american chain stores mixed with cheap mexican tiendas of all kinds continued but became more spread out. filled in by empty desert. Lluc was in the mood and we stopped at the first taco stand we saw. It was actually papusas, but it was close enough. Talked to some more noce folks there, all of them admiring thr journey but telling us we're crazy.
The day was hot and although the traffic relaxed, being on one road can get to your head. It was hard riding. We stopped again at a roadside bar and realized we were exhausted. A nice dude named felipe told us if we make it to San Miguel (where we were headed) to say hello for him to the old Ex-nun who drinks named Mary. Good thing we talked to him because he convinced us to get off the libre there and get into the Quota (pretty much the interstate) to avoid a big hill and get better shoulder. We did, and there was better pavement, but the semi trucks were taking down the road and there were a lot. Not a calm ride. After who knows how many miles (it's all in kilometers) we started to climb, and continued for too long, before stopping at the top where some vendors were set up. I got some dates (realized I should practice my bargaining) and some water from a questionable bucket. There a view of a mighty bay and a sign: downhill fot 13km.
The road dove sharply down and everything got faster. The wind made the bike wobble with speed. Then, construction. It narrowed to one lane. Cliff close to the right. Narrow bridges. Rumble strips. It was almost too much to keep track of. Just try to forget how scary this is and keep the thing straight and hold on to the brakes.
Finally we made it to the bottom. There was a toll booth, and I knew we weren't allowed on this road but there wasn't a good way to escape it. We waited in line until the agent just pointed at us and motioned for us to get out. So we just passed around the side and left.
Around the corner was San Miguel. A cobblestone street lead us to the green house where Michelle lived, another connection of the girlfriend's clan. A beach house that had been in the family a while. We were welcomed aaaand probably a bit wide eyed after that ride. A shower and some laundry by hand before sitting rooftop to watch the sunset.
Later, a friend of Michelle's came by and we all went into town (El Sauzal) to try their favorite taco stand. It was a mob around a counter (no clear line) and the child's were chopping and throwing meat around, creating the grill with a hair dryer... We ate, I was out of it and thinking it was all a strange dream. In the process we talked with Juan, the husband of the friend, who told us there did conditions of where we were going were very bad. And the other way is very busy. Also there's lots of drunk drivers on the weekend. It was poor news and we've never felt this unsure about our course. The stakes have been raised and it's eay to start to wonder what we're here for. We sleep without knowing what we will do in the morning. But at least we know, we made it to Mexico.
Comments
Post a Comment