Waking up early, and a bit hung over, we took it easy getting out of Vegas. About an hour outside of Vegas the heat of the day kicked in and we were on a long straight empty stretch of road. Cruising down the road I nod off for a split second, my head drops and immediately pops back up – I fell asleep while riding on my motorcycle, not good. Up ahead I saw the typical diner with large CASINO sign that marks every state entrance. I pull over and tell Ry that I need some coffee and a rest, he tells me he nodded off on the last stretch too, not a good idea to be riding in that state.
We grab some coffee and greasy breakfast and agree the mileage is not worth risking an accident, now that we have made some miles we agree to just stop when we get tired.
After breakfast we cross into California the last state prior to Mexico, traffic at this point is sparse and we stick to back roads.
A delay waiting for a train crossing was a good excuse to do some offroad exploration
We took a direct route through southern California which goes close by death valley, the hottest place in North America. I love the desert, probably the novelty, but also because my eyes drift across to the endless terrain that is ready for offroad riding. The temperature gauge on my bike was burried, Ryan has an electronic gauge which isnt impacted by the sun, it stopped reading when it hit 45 and just started blinking.
Throughout the day we stopped and guzzeled water, I went through more than 4 liters without stopping to take a leak. Your body sweats it out as fast as you can get it in. Wearing black riding gear was brutal, and when your moving it feels like your standing in front of a hair dryer. You never feel wet as your sweat dries as fast as it comes out. What your are left with is a crunchy tshirt that is covered in salt rings. It was great, all part of the experience we were looking for.
Hitting Blythe CA we stopped in a gas station to load up on more water. As we were parked a motorcycle cop pulled up and came over to chat. He was heading into the station to cool down in the air conditioning and couldnt believe anyone was out on the bikes. Great guy, talked about he area, asked about our trip and showed us his custom modifications including a shotgun mounted to the back.
The people we have bumped into have been awesome, friendly, helpful and inquisitive about our trip. The common theme however is their general concern about us headed into Mexico. Most warned it was not safe and that they dont recommend we go. Everyone had a “my buddy knows a guy who went down there and <insert bad experience here> ” story. Made us feel a bit cautious, but most who warned against going had never actually been. I was actually amazed how many people were a days drive to the border yet had never been into Mexico.
Later on in the day we came accros the expansive sand dunes of Southern Cali – absolutely amazing, looked just what expected to see in the Sahara. I tried some off roading but my 500lbs loaded bike quickly sank into the sand and got stuck.
As we got to the Mexican border at Mexicali the terrain changed to more mountainous and forested.
The border was easy with little lineup. It consisted of an open gate with a guard sitting on a chair casually waving you through.
Ry had the awesome idea to stop and try to ask the border guard where we can buy Mexican visa for our bikes. The visa is an apparent requirement for driving in Mexico, many go without, but we thought for the $25 it was an easy piece of mind to avoid unwanted situations. The guard got a bit agitated and waved Ryan through, he stopped his bike and tried to ask about insurance. Likely in retaliation for Ry’s lack of obedience, we waves for Ry to pull his bike over and begins to search all his bags and gear. I’m finding this pretty funny, but also a bit concerned that we may get hassled further, but after a quick ‘shakedown’ he tells Ry to pack it up and move on.
We find the insurance shop a block away and get ourselves legal with Tourist visas. Before hand we had also purchased Mexican insurance, another inexpensive, but piece of mind document. The visas are only good for Baja which has a special easier to get permit for people headed down. In the 80s Baja really pushed the idea of American heading down for vacation. They created the number one highway which is a beautiful well maintained strip of smooth asphalt. Tourist never came in cars, but did book flights down to Cabo. The legacy that remained was the #1 highway which we intended to take down to Cabo.
We head from Mexicali to Ensenada as the sun begins to dip behind the horizon. I begin to get nervous as everything I’ve read about Baja is AVOID riding at night because the roads have hairpin turns and can be full of drunk drivers after the sun goes down.
We get into Ensenada which is a buzzing costal city used for docking of cruise ships. We check into a little hotel and head out for some local nightlife.
We quickly realize that young male gringos wandering around in Mexico are a hot target for strip club promoters. Most joke around but some can got a bit hostile about getting you into their place. Trying to avoid trouble we stuck to the activities out on the street and called it a night relatively early (by Mexican standards) after a very long exhausting, but rewarding day. We made it to Mexico and the next leg of our adventure begins.