I finally left Autlan, allowing myself 12 days to travel 3000km’s to Cancun airport in the Mexican south east where I’ll be meeting Jenn to chill out along the Caribbean sea for a couple of weeks.
The first portion was to reach El Pacifico and travel along its coast on Highway 200 for 1,200km’s as far as the renowned surfing hotspot
of Puerto Escondido. The winding stretch took me three days, crossed four tropical regions and lived up to all my expectations. It was three days of endless river crossings, mountain bends through the untouched forest high up on the edge of cliffs by the ocean and along its shores at sea level. The heat became intense the further south I went, there were thousands of crabs crossing the tarmac careful to avoid and little traffic to battle with. I checked out many beaches off the highway, stopping at La Ticla one night where time stood still, convinced a restaurateur to allow me to set up camp on his foreshore another night outside of Acapulco and took the long sandy road to the laguna of Chacahua for another. One morning I was on the road shortly after dawn but was quickly stopped around a mountain bend with flashing lights ahead and waited while a young man was pulled from his bloody car in a ditch, a chilling reminder of the hundreds of crosses planted along Mexican roads signifying a fatal accident. I stopped helplessly to chat to the stranded nurses whose car had overheated. I had ridden little over the past month so it felt like a fresh start and was happy to be back making small talk with children and men by the roadside or in their restaurants. The familiar questions came back: Where are you from? You rode from Australia on your moto? What size is the engine? Where you heading? How much does your bike cost? If you're heading this way, you must go here .....
The coast remains undeveloped and raw due to indigenous protected areas with little more that straw huts and portable food stalls for much of the journey. The area feels very peaceful and comfortable to ride through however throughout Michoacan and Guerrero I pass many more military and police checkpoints than other parts of Mexico which reminds me of what is happening here behind the scenes. I usually get waved through or queried on where I'm heading to or a quick check of my bags. These regions are notorious for the narcotic trade with increased violence and drug manufacture within the secluded mountains of late. Some towns in the area have created their own vigilante groups to protect against the cartels. Days after I ride through I read about a highway roadblock and shootout between rival gangs and the police which costs 22 lives. The story is a surprise and feels so isolated from my experiences.
Roadblock on the sandy roads off the highway
On arriving at Puerto Escondido I plan to take a surfing lesson or two and meet a couple from Melbourne with the same intention so we book in a group lesson for the following morning at one of the more placid beaches and enjoy a fun morning chasing waves. Later on I have to look twice but cross paths with Chris, an old colleague outside an internet shop, having no idea he had resigned shortly after me and is now following the Pacific coast with his surfboards. We go for beers and tacos which I think keeps me bedridden for a further couple days and puts a setback in my tight riding schedule for the next week. Once recovered I spent the next few days covering arduous terrain crossing the Isthmus through the Oaxaca and Veracruz mountains, sitting behind trucks, stopping for hearty meals and a chat at isolated mountain restaurants and taking rests at lookouts over the valleys. It’s a welcome rest from the heat and mosquitos. I find a nice bar and nice company in Oaxaca City to try some Mezcal and wander through the city chocolate cafes, a modern art gallery and catch the opening night of the annual fiesta parading the costumes, music and customs of the various quarters of the city in the lively main square.
The past couple of weeks has forced me to address a few minor issues with the bike. Sixto has passed his 17,000km mark and non-mechanical adjustments were needed to keep him in the right shape. It’s easy enough here to find a roadside mechanic to help out with immediate service for less than $5, once to change the springs on my centre stand and straighten an element and a second for a new bolt for my foot rest which had snapped. The speed bumps will not be missed when I leave Mexico.
I pulled in to Eduardo’s autoparts store to get some advice on fixing my saddlebag problem and he was happy to help out in the carpark, spending close to an hour replacing some straps and bolts and chatting about my time in Mexico and his time living in Illinois. He refused to take any money, pointing out the custom here is to offer genuine assistance to someone passing through especially a foreigner.
My final stretch was to then cross the Yucatan peninsula to the Caribbean city of Cancun. I enjoy the easy modern highways with relatively cheap tolls, making stops in unimpressive industrial towns. At a gas station one afternoon I’m greeted by Caleb, filling up his Kawasaki 1500. We stopped for a water and chat. He fits the bill of a middle aged biker with emblems of different bikie groups sewed on to his vest and is the local leader of the national Manosos riders group. Caleb was on a long ride home to Morelia from his two week shift as an air traffic controller. He’s a very warm guy and offers me a place to stay for the night, I take him up on his offer as I was heading in that direction and we ride together for a couple of hundred kilometres and enjoy having a riding companion and learning a few signals. We’re stopped at a police checkpoint and my bags are searched more thoroughly than ever before, then continue on to Caleb’s place to drop off our luggage. I spend a memorable night cruising through the colonial boulevards, enjoying the best steak I’ve had on the road, a coffee and dessert stop and a beer at a local bikers bar with a bunch of Caleb’s very friendly Harley riding mates. After a big breakfast and advice on new tyres which I want before heading into Central America, I farewell Caleb and ride on to Playa Del Carmen to find a hotel just in time for Jenn’s arrival.
