Rocky Point Rally
Puerto Peñasco, Sonora, Mexico
November 8-12, 2006

I love Mexico.  It is a lawless land where music is always in the air and the tequila flows like water, the beaches are beautiful, the sunsets stunning, and there is a constant party atmosphere.  Erich and Barbara Frei, Neil Webster and I departed from the Vietnam Memorial last Wednesday morning and drove to Scottsdale where we spent the night.  The next morning we dropped the Harleys and rode to the Arrowhead Harley Davidson dealership and picked up our Poker Ride to Mexico cards.  After a short ride to Gila Bend we made our first stop at the Love’s station to pick up our first number.  We had a taco and were poised and ready to ride to Mexico.  Neil’s Low Rider wouldn’t start.  This might have been the worst place on the planet to have a battery die.  This proved to be the start of some really bad battery karma.  After about a two or three hour ordeal of pulling out the battery finding a replacement in Buckeye about 32 miles away, riding to get it, putting in the battery acid and firing up the Low Rider we finally got underway about 3:00.  After Stopping in Ajo to pick up Mexican Insurance we headed to Lukeville and the border.  We stopped for a rest and when the expletives ceased, Neil went off and displayed wide-eyed displeasure because his bike wouldn’t start. Again!  We wandered around looking for someone who had jumper cables.  Finally, we approached some Border Patrol employees who were able to come up with some.  We jumped started Neil’s bike and he was pretty much ready to call off the whole thing and head back to Scottsdale rather than ride into Mexico in the dark across the Sonoran Desert with a flaky battery and unknown electrical issues.

After some convincing, we headed for Puerto Penasco in the dark.  It was a bit scary after hearing stories from everyone about animals in the roadway at night.  We saw a lot of signs with pictures of everything from cattle to turtles to be alert for.  It occurred to me that hitting a big turtle in the dark might not be a fun time on a bike.  After hurtling through the darkness for an hour we arrived unscathed in Puerto Penasco.  I was leading and when I looked in my rear view mirror and didn’t see headlights I was a bit concerned and turned back to see what had happened.  Erich and Barbara had encountered some deep sand while crossing a railroad track in the dark and had buried their driving wheel.  Neil had gone back to assist.  We proceeded a few blocks and had paused to ask directions to the Sonoran Sun when Neil’s bike died.  We pretty much had to chase down some jumper cables, dismantle our loaded bikes and jump-start the bike.  The good news is that we were able to find jumper cables get going again.  We were all quite happy and relieved to have made it as we checked in.

Friday morning Neil and I loaded up on my Springer and headed out in search of two critical items, jumper cables and a small 1-2 amp charger.  Sounds simple enough, but turned out to be no easy task.  I have some Spanish speaking ability and had difficulty coming up with how to say jumper cables.  We only had gone a mile or so and were riding down the street and voices called out to us.  Our friends from Farmington, New Mexico just happened to be walking down the street and saw us.  We are getting to be old biker buddies.  We had camped with them in August in Sturgis, South Dakota.  It is truly a small world.  After enthusiastic hellos, handshakes, and hugs, we said goodbye and continued on our mission.  We went to every place in town that even remotely looked like an auto parts store and using my Spanish and our initiative, not to mention our own private escort by a local Mexican we finally found the only 1-Amp battery charger in the town of Puerto Penasco.  Neil exclaimed, ‘&^%$#@ing Bueno!’

We went back to the condo, set the battery in the sink and started a charging time of 20 hours.  We got into swimming suits and headed for the beach.  The Sonoran Sun is a beautiful place and has all the amenities.  There are three large pools, two hot tubs, and one of the pools is heated salt water with a swim up bar.  We found ourselves spending a lot of time there and enjoyed it immensely.  The Sea of Cortez is clear and the water temperature was a bit cool at first but comfortable once you got in.  Erich and Barbara decided to stay and enjoy that scene.  Neil and I called for a cab and headed to Playa Bonita to find our friends.  After a bite to eat and searching in vain we headed to Calle Trese (Route 13) where all the action is on Friday night.  We ended up spending most of the evening at Dunas, a table dance club and one of the places on the XX Poker Run. 

We spent Saturday at the Malecon, the town square on the seawall, reveling in the Rally festivities.  The place was a flurry of activity complete with a biker build off, food, spirits, music, and beautiful people.

Sunday loaded bikes and headed for the border.  We encounter a major delay at the border.  It was a real pain in the *$$.  Not to mention that Neil’s bike died again and wouldn’t start so he had to push it across.  He was not a happy camper.  After enduring the heat, the drug-sniffing dogs, the excessive delay, and the badly behaving bike we fueled up, push started Neil’s Low Rider, and headed for Scottsdale.  After riding for several hours, we pulled into the Space Age Restaurant in Gila Bend to rest and have something to eat, since we hadn’t eaten since we left Puerto Penasco and it was coming up on 1:00PM.  After an unbelievably long wait we finally got something to eat, push started Neil’s bike, rode back to Scottsdale, loaded the bikes, drove to Flagstaff, spent the night, and drove home the next morning….

Photographer/Historian
Jesús Guerrero Jr.