A Beer for my Moto

Master mechanic at work

With little hope of repairing a blown front fork seal on my KTM 690 I sought the help of a mechanic in the Baja, Mexico town of Loretto. The "workshop" was an outdoor affair with a tin roof and a dirt floor with the security being provided by a flea infested, junk yard dog that was obsessed with chasing any fleeting, shiny sunbeam. Not a hope of finding a replacement seal anywhere within a 1000 miles, Roland went to work with his magic and shortened the spring that puts pressure on the sealing surface, refilled the fork oil using the accurate 220 ml Tecate beer bottle and before you could say Tequila I was back on the road.

My December trip to Mexico started on the mainland and finished after 2400 miles in northern Baja, Mexico. My first stop on the mainland was in Creel that is the gateway to the Copper Canyon ( some might remember this was part of my trip one year ago ) One of the reasons for coming back this way was to take the train, known as El Chepe through the Copper Canyon.

People who have taken this train ride will tell you that this is one of the most spectacular routes in the world and the tracks which were first laid in the late 1890s wind their way from an altitude of 8500 ft down to sea level on a journey that takes about 9 hours. At times the track is hanging on the side of the canyon walls looking down to the river many hundreds of feet below, before disappearing into a long dark tunnel only to emerge into the blinding sunlight going in the opposite direct, having turned a full 180 degrees in the middle of the mountain. Now people who have not been on this train ride will tell you that as it is in the Mexican state of Sinaloa you will probably die a terrible death at the hands of the drug cartels that look to steal every last cent from unsuspecting tourists.

El Chepe arriving in Creel

After spending the night in the beautiful town of El Fuerte I caught the train early the next morning back to Creel to pick up my motorcycle.

El Fuerte main plaza

Patiently waiting for the train in El Fuerte

Railroad bridge at Temoris

Collecting my motorcycle in Creel I set off on my more accustomed mode of transportation down the winding roads into the depths of the canyon system in the Sierra Madre mountains with my next stop being the village of Urique.

Tracks in the sand

On a walk along the Urique River a came across this perfect footprint ( or sandal print) in the fine dust. I knew that a local person of indigenous descent, a Rarámuri or as outsiders call them the Tarahumara, was walking this same forgotten dirt track. The word Rarámuri literally means "foot runner" and describes how they have become famous for their long distance running skills, usually in sandals made from old car tires. Due to the sandy conditions I think this person had decided to run Dunlops that day for added traction.

Traditional colorful clothing is a mark of these amazing people who still stick to their cultural roots.

See the sandals

After a 10 km hike along the Urique River I came to the village of Guadalupe Coronado with a quaint little church.

Upon further inspection of this little gem in the middle of nowhere a disturbing sight met my eye - three, what I took to be, dead dogs, were hung over the doorway.

After asking for information from this elderly resident about the event that had led to the slaughter of somebodies pets I was told that they were coyotes and they are put there to celebrate the Fiesta de la Candelaria ( Candlemas ) on Feb 2nd. I am afraid my Spanish was not good enough to understand quite what the significance of the unfortunate canines was.  

Onwards through the canyons and over some very remote roads brought me to the village of Batopilas on the Batopilas River, one of the six rivers that make up the Copper Canyon complex.

 Earlier on in this post I did joke about the drug cartels and I still believe that you are safe in this area but there is definitely some cartel activity. I had been told to keep an eye out for shiny new pick-up trucks without license plates and black out windows, often sporting a Starlink receiver on the roof. I was walking along the road bordering the river when just such a brand new Toyota Tundra passed me, then turned around, passed me going the opposite direction and then stopped outside a house. I continued on to visit an old hacienda.

Hacienda Shepard

Upon returning from this magnificent mansion built by the New York silver mining magnate, Alexander Shepard in the late 1800s the Toyota Tundra was still parked outside the house on the river road. This time however there were two guards standing outside - definitely not wearing the uniforms of any of the known security forces but rather of the baseball cap and t shirt variety. I suspect that the automatic rifles with circular high capacity magazines were also standard issue in the industry in which they worked.

With a cheerful " Buenas Tardes " I passed them with a big smile and received a very friendly " Buenas Tardes" in return.

The next part of the ride was a lot of fun with the roads getting rougher and with over 8000ft of climbing out of the valley I certainly got a workout.

After riding on rough dirt roads all day I was just coming into the town of Choix, in Sinaloa province, when I met a grader trying to smooth out the deep ruts. The trouble with this is that the ruts were now just camouflaged with loose sand and before I knew it I was eating dirt - literally!!

Anyway apart from a couple of bruises no real harm was done. From here it was a short ride to my overnight stop before riding down to the Sea of Cortez town of Topolobampo to catch the ferry the following evening. The ferry is very well organized and left right on time, the only problem being that it leaves at midnight; not a time of the night that I usually am to be found anywhere apart from my bed.

Baja Ferry

 Arriving in La Paz from where I had been traveling for the previous week was a bit of a culture shock and even the style of clothing was quite different as can be seen from this photo of a woman who seemed to be getting a lot of attention.

From La Paz I turned north and followed a dirt road along the coast for a while before turning inland. 

The color of the water in this part of the Sea of Cortez is magnified by the white sandy ocean floor.

North of Loretto and the moto repair that I have previous described I got into the part of Baja that I really enjoy - the desert and the thick sand that takes a lot of concentration but brings my moto alive.

After riding through the thick sand for an hour or so I came to this sign which with my limited Spanish could only mean one thing - proceed carefully.

With the help of all my digital maps and also a few informative road signs I made it onto the part of the road that leads to Bahia de Los Angeles. Having ridden this road at least half a dozen times in the past I felt like I was on home turf.

Now I will say that I must be getting a little wiser as one track I started down got smaller and smaller and after passing a small farm the deep sand got thicker and all signs of other vehicles disappeared so I did something I would usually not do - I turned around.

 

The road to Bahia de Los Angeles

Sunrise from Campo Archelon

 My next stop on my travels north was at San Felipe which is a mix of old Mexico and a hangout for gringo tourists.

San Felipe

I made one more stop in Baja at the legendary Mike's Sky Ranch, the mecca of off-road racing. This beautiful spot is hidden in the mountains down a winding dirt road about and hour and a half's ride south of the town of Lázaro Cárdenas. 

And then came the part that I was dreading - getting back across the border into the US at Mexicali. As expected the line was long and what looked to be at least a couple of hours wait was shortened to a mere twenty minutes after a local motorcycle rider indicated for me to follow him. We weaved our way through the traffic, around cement bollards and across a partially constructed extra lane before arriving at the border station and in no time at all I was being waved into fortress America by a very helpful smiling border guard.

Travels in Southern Africa

 

Travelling in Africa is always an adventure

After considering all the options for a southern Africa Adventure ride I settled on a little more powerful machine than the one in the photo.

Husqvarna 701 Enduro 

Before starting off on my motorcycle adventure I spent the month of March in Simonstown, Western Cape, South Africa. With family and friends joining me the month was swallowed up with many long walks along the coast, many cold Castle Lager beers and a smattering of Gin and Tonics.

With this view from the rental property to start every day it was difficult to think about climbing on a motorcycle and heading for the long dusty gravel roads of Namibia and Botswana. However once I changed my mindset from luxury living to crazy I soon adapted again to life on the road and all the excitement and challenges that it brings.

The Cederberg mountains in the western part of the Western Cape province is a delightful area of rugged mountains, fun roads to ride and little villages where life goes on like it has done for hundreds of years.

Wuppertal

The old German missionary village of Wuppertal is the center of the Rooibos tea growing area and the local people are known for their Riel dancing that has its origins in the Khoisan  culture.

Rock art at Truitjieskraal

Here is an outstanding example of the Khoisan rock art that can be found throughout the region.

Fish River Canyon

My first stop in Namibia was the Fish River Canyon, which cuts its way through the arid desert for 160km (100 miles) with depths of up to 550 metres (1800 ft) 

It is difficult to describe the beauty of the desert with huge vistas stretching to the horizon travelling on gravel roads where the washboard loosens even the tightest bolts and puts your dental work through a vigorous endurance test.

My next stop was the old ghost mining town of Kolmanskop where alluvial diamonds were discovered, literally by the handful, in 1908.

Mine Manager's house

Desert moving in

The thick coastal fog that surrounded me in the early morning made for a surreal visit to this site with it's German architecture of beautiful buildings that are slowly being engulfed by the creeping sands of the Namib desert.

Still travelling north towards Sossusvlei the desert had been transformed into an oasis from all the recent rains. What a beautiful ride with the occasional ostrich, wildebees and oryx crossing my path.

 

Campsite at Sesriem

The red sand dunes of Sossusvlei just begged to be climbed, however the dune that looks like it could be scaled in no time at all turns out to be a long arduous slog with one step forward with a half step slide back towards where you came from. Still well worth the effort.

 

The dry desert air makes even young men look like they are from a bygone era.

Onwards to the coastal town of Swakopmund with some amazing German architecture that seems so out of place in a desert.  The photo above is the old railway station, now a high end hotel. A little bit of history - Namibia was a German colony, known as German South West Africa from 1884 to 1915 after which it was administered by South Africa before gaining full independence in 1990.

Brandberg

Plunging back into the desert I spent a few days exploring the Brandberg ( Burnt Mountain) mountain area which allowed for some fun riding, memorable hikes to more Khoisan rock art and sunsets that begged to be paired with a cold beer.

Adventure riding at its best

White Lady Lodge accommodation

White Lady Rock Art

 The rock art known as the " White Lady" is now thought to represent a medicine woman rather than a woman from a completely different ethnic group that what was in this area at the time.

On the road to Etosha Pan National park the road signs are certainly not representative of those found in my home country. However they certainly represent exactly the wild beasties that a motorcyclist travelling at 100 km/h on a sandy road should be mindful of.

Namutoni - Etosha

I spent a day in Etosha National Park but as motorcycles are not allowed in the park I took a tour in an open Land Rover. The above photo is of the old German fort at Namutoni.

Lilac Breasted Roller

This magnificent Lilac Breasted Roller had snagged one of these enormous prehistoric crickets that could be found squished in their thousands on the roads ( much like a Mormon Cricket in the western US ). Riding through a column of them was no fun as my riding boots and pants ended up being covered in a gooey, smelly layer of slime.

From Etosha I headed north until I reached the Cubango River which is the border between Namibia and Angola where I spent a very relaxing night at Simanya River Lodge. Being the only guest in the place I was treated royally.

Cubango River

The road along the border could be traversed on a paved road or a parallel gravel road closer to the river that goes through numerous villages with plenty of goats, sheep, cattle and potholes - guess which one I took?  This area of Namibia is known as the Caprivi strip and is a strange, narrow piece of land that touches, the four countries of Angola, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia -- obviously the invention of some mad colonial cartographer with an alcohol addled brain.

I arrived at Shakawe Fishing Lodge, after crossing into Botswana,and set up camp on the banks of the Okavango River. The sign next to my tent didn't give me any great sense of security for my well being.

Carmen Bee Eaters

A boat cruise on the  river was amazing with the Carmen Bee Eaters that nest in the mud river banks to the Fish Eagles that swoop down to take offered fish off the surface of the river making it an evening to remember.

Fish Eagle

Sunset over the Okavango

From Shakawe I rode the "most and deepest potholes per kilometer road in the whole of Africa" to the bottom of the Okavango swamps and the town of Maun. Here I picked up a couple of safari vehicle tours into Moremi game reserve where the variety of animals was astounding.

Southern, or two horned, Giraffe

Cheetah

The guide I had for this trip was absolutely phenomenal. In the open vehicle we had already passed a clump of bushes when he suddenly stopped and turned his head back and pointed to three cheetah that I had completely missed. That night sitting around the campfire ( with lions roaring off in the distance) I asked him how he had spotted those animals as it seemed to me that he somehow sensed they were there rather than actually having seen them. Here is the story he told. Of partial Khoisan ancestry he grew up in the area that is now the Central Kalahari Game Reserve. His grandfather would take him out in an old bakkie ( pick- up truck) with a rug over his head. Grandfather would stop when he saw an animal and ask the young boy what he was feeling right at that moment. It might be an itchy nose, or watering eyes or some other unusual sensation. Once the rug was removed and the boy could see the animal, be it a lion, cheetah, elephant or some other animal of the African veld he would associate that animal with the sensation he was feeling - watering eyes for cheetah, itchy nose for a lion, etc. This confirmed my sense from earlier that day that he somehow just knew that the cheetahs were under the bush.

Itchy nose lion

From northern Botswana it was a long butt weary ride back to South Africa and a visit to my brother who lives in the town of Ladybrand which is on the edge of the mountain kingdom of Lesotho. With some inside knowledge of track and trails to follow I headed into this beautiful country where the mountains roll on forever

Thabana- Li - Mmele

Crossing a river on a footbridge

After slipping my way down a muddy track I launched over a small wall and ended up in a mielie ( corn ) field. The extraction took a lot of sweating and cursing but with only a few bruises I was happy to get away so lightly.

Now came the negotiation with the local farmer and his daughter as to the price to be paid for the destruction of the best crops in the entire country. The opening bid from him was the sum of 5 Rand ( about 25 US cents ) After much haggling we settled on R3. 

From here I worked my way across the center of this tiny country before crossing back into South Africa. Here are some photos of this beautiful, remote part of the world.

Basotho horseman

Semonkong Lodge

Waterfall into Meletsunyane Gorge

Senqu or Orange River

Back into South Africa I headed for the coast at Kei Mouth to stay with a friend before riding north along what is known as the Wild Coast.

Ferry at Kei Mouth

Nguni Cattle

The Wild Coast

Great roads for riding 

Two days in to this part of the trip I ran into electrical problems on the Husky and needed to be "rescued" by my friend from Kei Mouth. After a couple of days trying to diagnose the problem we took the bike to a KTM dealer in East London which is where it now resides, to be repaired and await my return this time next year .... this adventure to be continued.

Now back in the US it was time to make some more repairs so with a visit to the local hospital and an appointment with a surgeon I managed to purchase and have installed a new hip which should be good for at least another 100,000 miles.