¡Viva Mexico!

Rocky Point Rally
Puerto Peñasco, Sonora, Mexico

Wednesday afternoon on November 10th I got the call from Neil to ride to Fruita to load the hogs and set the stage for our big adventure.  Anticipation was in the air as we loaded the bikes, cinched them up tight, and talked about our game plan for traveling to Puerto Peñasco for the “Rocky Point Rally”.  At the crack of dawn the next morning, Patty dropped me off in Fruita and after some hot coffee and brief goodbye’s we zoomed away to Scottsdale, Arizona where we planned to unload the Harleys and ride to Mexico.  We stopped in Mexican Hat, Utah and looked around for Nita, a Navajo lady that runs the Canyonlands Motel where we stayed on our return trip from an earlier ride to Arizona Bike Week in April.  I had a nice 5X7 picture that we had taken of her, Neil, Terry, and me.  She was nowhere to be found so I wrote a note and attached the note and picture to the windshield of her truck and we drove on to Kayenta.  We stopped in Flagstaff and had some lunch and attempted to call friends that I met at Sturgis whom we were going to hook up with at the Puesta del Sol Hotel in Puerto Peñasco.  We did reach them and talked about meeting in Phoenix for a BBQ at the home of their friend.  Sunsets in the desert are always spectacular and this one was no exception.  I took lots of pictures of the fiery sky to the west and we dropped into the Valley of the Sun.  We arrived in Scottsdale, checked into the hotel and walked to Arriba’s for Mexican food.  After a good dinner we hiked back to the hotel and dropped off to sleep with visions of the ride to Mexico in our heads.

Someone said along the way said that there was a possibility of rain, but Friday arrived with only a few clouds in the distance, and would be a perfect riding day.  We quickly dropped the bikes; loaded up our gear and after picking up our Poker Run to Mexico cards at the Harley dealership we got into the wind.  Our spirits soared and our hearts were glad as we rode across the desert.  We stopped to see where Neil and Alexis lived, took some pictures for posterity and jumped back on the interstate heading for our second poker run card and fuel at Gila Bend.  We stopped in Ajo and attempted to call an old friend of mine, but he apparently moved to Ajo to escape and has no telephone.  We rode on to Why.  I asked a local why it is called Why, he responded, “Because there is a Y in the road”, enough said.  It is only about twenty-five minutes to Lukesville, which is the border crossing into Mexico.  On the Mexican side the first town is Sonoyta where we stopped for our third poker card.  We had a good cold beer and I had my eye on a beautiful hand painted leather vest that was only $85 that I should have bought but missed the opportunity and regretted it later. 

We arrived in Puerto Peñasco in the early afternoon and after checking in at the entrance to the city and getting the required armbands for identification purposes and paying our $10 which is a donation for the Red Cross we rode into town.  I should point out for future reference for those aspiring to go there, be aware that the Mexican speed bumps (Topes) are super sized and could take out the undercarriage of your vehicle or high center your motorcycle.  We found out later that T.R. and Matti, friends from Farmington, New Mexico, had an accident going over the speed bump.  T.R. was going over it and Matti wasn’t paying close attention and when T.R. was vulnerable and riding the crest of the bump, Matti tapped him from behind and hit the trailer hitch of his bike launching him causing him to dump his bike.  His crash bar was bent about ninety degrees, his bike was scratched, he suffered home road rash on his right arm and he felt like he had cracked ribs. 

While we were sitting in traffic I inquired using marginal Spanish speaking that has gotten rusty due to lack of use where the Pueñasco del So hotel was located.  The Mexican driver gave good instructions, but since we were obviously from way out of town we neglected to turn right at the next major intersection.  He said to take the first right and go down Calle Trese, which translated to route 13.  We were looking for something that looked like a number 13 and failing to see that we proceeded.  We ended up in the main part of the city at the Malecon, which is basically where all the stores, bars, restaurants, and seawall are.   We parked the bikes and wandered around checking out all the action while enjoying a good cold Pacifico.  We were glad to have made it and were celebrating the moment.  We could see our hotel across the harbor and had a great view of the Sea of Cortez enhanced by Pelicans, Shrimp Boats, Para sails, and the typical activities that take place in any coastal Port.

We didn’t linger and fired up the Harleys and headed for the hotel.  After some initial confusion about exactly who we were and convincing the hotel clerk that we were indeed VIP’s traveling with the Farmington Group we got keys to our room.  We just had time to dump our stuff and Neil noticed that it was about 6:00 and that our Poker Run hands needed to be turned in by 6:00.  Neil made a run to Playa Bonita to turn in our hands.  A short time later Neil returned with the distressing news that we didn’t win.  We donned proper riding apparel, shorts, sandals, and chaps and rode out to Playa Bonita to participate in the Fish Fry and beach party that was going on.  I was following Neil down this dark road and suddenly discovered that Neil had missed the turn and was cutting it back around for a course correction.  I did the same and as I swung around I had the sinking feeling literally that I was going down into some deep sand.  That was not a comforting feeling and as I eased on the throttle the HOG wallowed on through to my delight and relief.

A few minutes later we sat enjoying the music and party atmosphere.  I looked up and behold I saw a familiar face that I have seen a few times in the Glencoe campground in Sturgis.  Dave, I called out and when he saw me he yelled out in a loud voice, “Jesus, what are you doing in Mexico?”  It was an incredible encounter, totally coincidental and a complete surprise.  It turns out that the entire Farmington group was sitting only two tables away from us.  We had introductions and ate a quick plate of excellent fish and other Mexican food and rode back to the hotel to drop the bikes so we could go on the XX rated 21 run.  That was a cultural enlightening experience and one that will remain with us for a lifetime.  Ruta 13 is a street within walking distance of the Peñasco del Sol hotel and it was rocking in to the night.  It was sheer joy taking in the sights and sounds of this lawless land, whose streets were filled with music, motorcycles, wild mechanical beasts of all kinds including modified golf cards about eight feet tall equipped with seating for ten, lit up with neon lights and cranking out loud music, and lots of beautiful people everywhere all in this magical place in Mexico.  After taking it all in and the effects of the beer, the ride, and missing the last step in the last bar, Jesus on the way in and Neil on the way out, we decided to call it a night and stumbled back to the hotel and crashed into deep slumber.

Every day is beautiful in Mexico and Saturday was no exception.  This day we explored the city to the extent that we could, we rode to the Malecon, the center of all the motorcycle events and seaboard.  We wandered through all the bike show exhibits, took in the sights, did some obligatory shopping, drank some cold beer, and when we had our fill mounted up and rode back to the hotel for some afternoon rest and relaxation on the beach. The tide was in as we walked out onto the beach and all the pelicans, sea gulls and other birds were thick and animated as they engaged in a feeding frenzy.  The sun was warm and it was good for the soul just to relax and take it all in.  This magical afternoon in the sun on the beach in Mexico seemed to vanish rather quickly and after walking out to the waters edge, finding a live hermit crab, feeling the warm salt water of the Sea of Cortez and taking a few pictures, we made our way back to the hotel.  While taking pictures of breathtaking sunset scenes we were hailed by Mark and Ross of the Farmington group.  They had been looking all over for us to invite us to a cook out on the beach.  They had purchased fresh shrimp, fresh asparagus, fresh crabs and cold beer and were preparing a great meal.  We welcomed the invitation and followed them back.  We feasted on excellent seafood and cold beer and after cleaning up we all headed to the bar for our last drinks together.  Mexico has a way of bringing out the real person inside and as we sat enjoying the company of friends, new acquaintances, we were treated to some impromptu dancing by a number of American women from the crowd.  One wild Norse woman, likely from the cold North country of Minnesota was dancing at a frenzied pace, she was actually beginning to cramp up, but when she did, she would rub her legs and shake it off and continue.  Realization stuck that we were heading back in the morning so we finally decided we better wrap it up and call it a night. 

The next morning we met our friends from Farmington for a breakfast buffet at the hotel and then loaded up our bikes and made a run for the border.  My Mexican insurance would run out at noon and I wanted to be back in the USA by then.  We had a good ride back to Lukesville and after sitting in traffic longer than we would have preferred, we were waved through without incident.  We stopped at Why briefly and then took a right turn and headed for Tucson.  We arrived in Tucson in the late afternoon and rode up to Laurie’s house.  Laurie is Neil’s sister.  She is a very sharp lady, has a PhD in Anthropology in Southwestern Textiles from the University of Arizona in Tuscan.  She had just returned from a small village in the South of Mexico and she was as tired as were we from the long ride.  We exchanged greetings, had a good visit and after hooking up with Samantha and Tarl, Neil’s daughter and son-in-law we all went out to dinner.  I was intrigued by “The Club” that Laurie used to secure her vehicle with whenever we parked.  Tucson, Arizona it seems is the automobile theft capital of the country.

The next morning we loaded the bikes, said our goodbyes and after a brief stop for breakfast and at the Harley Shop headed back to Scottsdale via Globe.  We met up with a wild looking biker riding a Fatboy from St. Paul, Minnesota.  He was traveling light and only had a couple bottles of Gatorade bungeed to his carrier rack.  We visited for a while and decided to ride together back to Globe.  We stopped for gas in Globe and I called my sister Lucy, who I haven’t seen in about eight years and after discovering that we were just down the hill from her house, after fueling up we rode the few short blocks up the hill to her place and had a long overdue, but great brief visit.  She was glad to see me and enjoyed meeting my good friend and compatriot Neil. 

We rode hard and arrived back at the hotel in Scottsdale about 7:30 P.M.  We loaded the bikes onto the trailer stopped to eat some dinner and headed back to Grand Junction.  Neil, being the hard charger and energized individual that he is, said, “let’s head back and see how it goes”.  I thought that we would likely spend the night in Flagstaff and head home the next morning.  Well, after about 24 hours on the road we pulled into Grand Junction about 8:30 the next morning.  We had logged about 1100 miles pulling the bikes and about 800 miles riding across the desert country of Arizona and Mexico.  What a great ride!

Photographer/Historian
Jesús Guerrero Jr.