That’s right, my readers have spoken, you want the fake covid BS, and you want donuts….and I am a man that delivers…well almost. For some reason I wasn’t feeling donuts this day, BUT THERE WILL BE DONUTS.

I left off with el Churro and I headed North on a trip that was supposed to be taking us South. On the way back up to Tecate el Churro decides to give me the silent treatment and stops telling me what speed we are going (Problem #4). Not a big deal, I just pick a car that seems like it isn’t going 90mph and figure I should be good. I arrive at Tecate Saturday afternoon around 3:30, only to find the giant gates closed, damn this fake covid BS. I follow the free route along the border over to Tijuana, but never came from this way and missed the sentri lane. Now I am stuck waiting with all the cars as the vendors make it difficult to lane split as they setup their vendor carts in the middle. I finally get to the main area where it opens up and make my way to the front, only to see 50 lanes of Sentri and Ready Pass where I am, and signs for all other traffic waaaaay over to the left. Too late now, I pull up, apologize telling her I don’t even know what Ready Pass is, but the woman doesn’t care, she just wants my passport and I am back in the USA.

Being back I take advantage of the stores and buy things I should have gotten earlier, like replacing the GPS mount that broke, and the fantastic butt cushion that I desperately needed. The next day I arrive at the moto shop that has my helmet screws before it opens, so re-adjust the chain in the lot now that the loaded bags are on the bike. While doing this a guy starts talking to me about el Churros massive gas tank, and asks where I am headed. I laugh, say Baja to Michoacan, but tell him knowing the way I travel there is a good chance I don’t make it to Michoacan at all, let alone in time for the dia de muertos celebrations. Well what do you know, Joe is from Mexico, and his wife is from Michoacan. We chat and he convinces me I should try and make it, he supports the Baja plan even though a trip down + the ferry, plus riding through mainland to get there would cut it very close. After getting the screws I decide it’s not worth risking, and instead punch in the address for Tuscon. Yup, 30 minutes ago I still thought I was headed for Baja, this is how I roll.

Last night in the USA, go big or go home

The next day I am ready to cross taking the truck route around the city of Nogales. Of course I first run some errands, and grab some food, so it is probably noon by the time I actually cross. Luckily, I already have all my paperwork so do not need to stop. Nothing of interest happens this day aside from when I take a break to remove some layers. As I am parked on the side of the highway I see a man walking on the shoulder in my direction, not an uncommon sight even on the toll roads. Once he gets up to me he says something and we start chatting. Now while many of us are probably aware the migrant caravans were propaganda, it doesn’t mean people don’t do it. Turns out this mother F’er has been walking for 2 months from Nicaragua, and is headed for Tecate. At one point he shows me his shins, which are healing but a bit messed up with open wounds, and explains that he fell off a train. We chat on the side of the road for some time, and part ways. I did offer him some water, but he already had that, he never asked for any money, we were simply conversing on the side of the highway. I hope he made it across the border, he figured he had another month to go before getting there, maybe I should offer him a lift, no no South we go!

El Churro and I continued on and made our way down to Guaymas, since I have never stopped there. Guaymas is fine for a stop, the nearby San Carlos is another option as well. The less popular ferry for over landers goes from mid Baja to Guaymas, but I assume most people here are driving down from Az, though I do not see a single tourist. I drove down the main drag to get my bearings, then around the marina which was fairly empty, and then circle back to grab a hotel. I didn’t see a plaza of any sort which is typical of a centro, but with the marina they may not have one as people can gather there, or perhaps I missed it. Either way I was hungry, surprise!!, so walked back down to the main strip.

Mazatlan. not Guaymas

1st day on mainland, I am so excited for tacos. Hmm, what the hell is up with Guaymas and hotdogs??? I am not exaggerating, I found 0 taco stands, 1 tomale stand, and 10 hotdog stands. I don’t understand what the deal is, but when in Rome. I find a hotdog stand but get a hamburger which was great but I probably should have got a hotdog as well to see what the deal was.

From there I was debating copper canyon, but with the loaded bags, and suspension issues I thought I mght be having I decided I will loop back later, and continue on. I had been to Los Mochis and Choix on a previous trip so kept going through the area headed for the beaches, but in hindsight wish I had stayed at Alamos for a bit since I now had more time after skipping Baja. I think mentally I was still rushing, but will make sure to stop there next time I am in the area.

Coming from Tuscon I take the 15D all the way to Mazatlan, it sucks, el Churro and I HATE toll roads, I didn’t come to Mexico for this. At one point I stop to put on a layer, and el Churro throws a fit and falls over. Before I even have time to do anything 2 guys leaving the ranch across the road pull over and jump out to help lift it…Thank you, this bitch is heavy! I don’t recall if I stopped anywhere after Guaymas or before Mazatlan, again I wasn’t going to do a report, so when I stopped at small random places I was not paying attention too much, simply enjoying myself. I pretty much made my down the various beach towns, sitting around eating delicious food.

Some of those towns were ones previously visited in 2011, so it was nice to see them after all those years. There is that 1 town I never thought I would go back to, Sayulita. Oh how I dislike Sayulita. When Paul and I rolled through it was a shit show, there was a lot of construction as they were building up the town, and in process of building that nice bridge that is in place now. This time it is actually a nice town, although the hotels are definitely priced for gringos. I figured a covid Sayulita would be somewhat tolerable for me, but I was wrong, it was still full of gringos. I parked to go look for a hotel, but before I could even get off el Churro 2 guys from the US stop and start talking to me. We chat for awhile about all kinds of things, and when covid comes up 1 guy says “They live like it doesn’t exist here”, and that was a perfect way to put it. The majority of people in town are without masks, but there are those who wear them. The street vendors might have them around their chin, they might wear them properly, but regardless their hands are all over your food so who cares, if they have covid the mask isn’t going to do anything in this situation. The only place I saw a mask required was the 7/11 equivalent, OXXO, which I avoid anyway. Corporate America, corporate Mexico, they are all the same, fight the hombre! The only time I use an OXXO is to break large bills.

I was struggling to find a hotel that had moto parking and wasn’t a rip off. I eventually check A hostel and they tell me 200 pesos for a dorm, 280 with AC, but again, street parking. I decided to instead put my camping gear to use and headed to the campground we hit back in 2011. Now back then, only 1 side of the bathroom was working, so it was coed, and there were no doors on the toilet stalls, so you can imagine my surprise when I found separate sides for each sex, and doors on the stalls…ok they did not latch shut, but at least there were doors! Camping was between 200-300 pesos I forget, but it had parking so worked out. The camping spot is “El Palmar del Camarón”, and in walking distance to town.

All my diva shit. It did not rain, but helmet upside down was foolish.

A couple of Americans are living at the campground, and told me that there had originally been vigilante road blocks setup for covid and they wouldn’t let anyone in, but then almost overnight everyone suddenly relaxed. More importantly, they sent me to this food spot, which was delicious.

Somewhere between Mazatlan and Barra el Churro decides it is time for a break (Problem #5). The motor quits and I coast to a large area where it is easy to park. It is around 11am which is great, at least I don’t have to worry about nightfall, but it is hot and there is no shade anywhere. I am new to carb bike as the WR has fuel injection, but for some reason know to drain the float bowl, as I suspect el Churro has flooded. El Churro pisses a lot of gas, but then we are back on the road, yes I am the greatest mechanic ever!!! I will need to drain el Churro several times over the next few weeks until I finally clean the carb, I am to busy vacationing to worry about it for now.

Taking advantage of what little shade there was

I continued to simply bounced around beach towns, making my way South. My last stop was Barra de Navidad, which I had also previously stayed at. Barra was pretty empty, though I recall it was back in 2011, that was the appeal. I used it as a base camp and took a few trips to nearby places, and one night when coming home as the sun was setting, I pulled a u-turn for some bro time with el Churro to catch the sunset as I saw a preview where the road opened to the beach. As I pull up a guy motions me over, speaking English, tells me he crashed and his shifter is bent. He also drops some F bombs, says the taxi drivers wont help him, and is kind of making a small scene. I tell him I will go get my tools from the hotel, but debate if I should go back to him…no no he is a fellow rider, so I return with the tools. He has no idea what to do, which isn’t a surprise as he is wearing flip flops, shorts, and a tank top, no helmet of course. Luckily he wasn’t hurt to bad, and I use a tire iron to bend it back in no time. He offers to pay me or buy me some beers, but I decline as it is no big deal. We chat for 45 minutes so I completely missed the sunrise, but there is not much going in town so why not. The F bomb’s don’t stop, and as he has been living down there for 30+ years, he has a few derogatory comments about Mexicans that make me uncomfortable, so I eventually say my goodbye.

My hotel was 10 dollars in Barra but there was no street parking but el Churro is no bitch and doesn’t mind sleeping outside. Normally I won’t park in the street, in Baja a little old lady somehow moved my tall WR250 into her place when we went out in the afternoon, so it wouldn’t get stolen. Of course, I thought it was stolen when we got back, but she found me soon enough, and probably called me an idiot for leaving it in the street. A good thing about not being able to understand people down here is that I can assume the best and think they are praising me all the time, yes yes I am great. Anyway, no one was worried about my bike here, so I tethered el Churro to a tree with a cable lock which is never recommended in Mexico, but it did the trick for the duration of my stay.

I am sorry, I tried so hard to finish these delicious plates

I had planned to go as far South as Lazaro Cardenas and then head north, but suddenly found myself short on time, where does it go down here? I had reservations for dia de muertos in Patzcuaro as I have read it books up, unsure if I even want to be there as all of Mexico just might be there for the celebrations. I decide to skip the rest of the coast and take the toll (ugh) near Guadalajara, towards Morelia, and over to Patzcuaro so I can get there a few days early and settle in for the debacle. The road goes up near Guadalajara, and as I am about 30 minutes from the city the traffic comes to a stand still, there is clearly an accident up ahead. Cars are starting to pull u-turns, I swing el Churro onto the shoulder so we can make our way to the front passing about a mile of cars, only to eventually be met with cars coming at me who are not going to get out of my way. Of course the majority of cars going my way have started using the shoulder, so everyone comes to an immediate standstill….idiots. Well, el Churro doesn’t give a damn, so we skirt on the loose gravel around some more cars, but there is a military truck parked up ahead, so I park when I see some space between cars. I get off to go ask the military guys if they care if I drive across the dirt to get by as I don’t want to get shot, and they don’t care. Before any of that happens though, el Churro decides its nap time and falls over. Well, at least I am surrounded by Mexicans, surely someone will help me pick it up. Anybody….bueller……ok this gringo is on his own. Surrounded by cars full of people who don’t give an F, I take one of the bags off to lighten the load and lift that heavy bitch in front of everyone, giving them a thumbs up after for their lack of help. I then proceed to the front of the line, take that suckers.

Turns out a truck went off the road, into a muddy mess, which then covered the road as it had been pulled back up onto it. They were shoveling the mud off as I sat getting more antsy, el Churro and I know we can clear the mud, how about you just let us skirt by? The guy with the flag isn’t having it, so I chat with the other motorcyclist with a street bike. Eventually we get the green light and take off, I expect the cars to haul ass like the pace car had just left the track, so keep it moving but there is never a rush of cars that catch up. You will never catch us you bastards!!!!!

As soon as I hit Michoacan I see long convoys of military vehicles headed away from my direction, towards the coast, where before it had been a couple trucks here or there, or just the federal police/national guard. I also go past a Pemex gas truck convoy, which had to have at least 50+ trucks in the convoy, as well as private security providing protection. Now Paul and I didn’t skip Michoacan solely due to the safety concerns, but in 2014 Michoacan made international headlines when the people had finally had enough of the constant problems they faced with the cartels and other trouble makers. Vigilante groups started to take matters into their own hands arming themselves and setting up roadblocks in many smaller towns. Of course the cartels eventually infiltrated the groups and no one knew who was on whose side. There is a good documentary on netflix somewhere about it, but I have no idea what it is called. So while 2011-2012 wasn’t the safest time to be going there we chose to head inland to the colonial cities which were fantastic anyway, but this is why I was excited to have finally made it to Michoacan.