Rivers of sand

Hola,

I'm in Santa Ana, in the Sonora region of Mexico.

My trip down from the Painted Desert was mostly unremarkable, at least until I got into the desert north of the Santa Catalina mountains. There, the heat was almost unbearable cocooned inside my goretex bike gear. The normally cooling air flowing over the bike's screen was hot too, and the overall effect was like sitting in a sauna and switching on a fan heater full blast. Cactii were everywhere, some small with rounded "leaves", others as tall and shapely as trees. Some had red flowers on.

Every river that the road crossed was sand. I'd gone perhaps 70 or 80 miles and not seen water in a single river. I was worried that I wasn't carrying enough water in case of breakdown.

I reached Tucson in southern Arizona and spent a few days there waiting for parts that I'd ordered in Utah. When they turned up the bike had it's 7500 mile service (at 9400 miles) and finally got the gearshift lever that I'd broken when I came off in Alaska. Riding away the bike felt almost like new.

I realised that the almost 7000 miles I'd ridden with the broken shift lever was probably more mileage than I'd done on fully functional bikes in my riding career (aside from a 2000 mile jaunt around Europe last year, all my riding had been quick blasts on sportsbikes). So not surprising that I'd adapted to the broken lever. The right wing mirror holder that originally broke on my test run to Weymouth was also replaced. Since the bike blew over in Banff the right mirror had been in my luggage.

The morning of the third and final day in Tucson was spent stocking up with last minute "essentials" that I figured would be hard to come by in Mexico and Central America, beef jerky, chocolate covered cranberries, Reeses crispy crunchy in addition to less important stuff like US dollars :) I also bought a big book that should last until I get back to English speaking countries.

Leaving Tucson I headed for the border at Nogales on the interstate, stopping just before the crossing to fill up the bike and fuel can with cheap petrol. An American chap warned me about certain areas of southern Mexico and by the time he'd finished I was starting to think about riding back to Alaska. Somewhere between worrying about which way I was going and trying to concentrate on several things at once, including not getting knocked off the bike by passing crazy drivers, I managed to miss wherever it was I was supposed to get my exit stamp from the US. That's going to cause me problems on my next visit to the States, no doubt. One minute there were signs for the border and the next, everything was in Spanish and I was in Mexico. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if I could spot where I left my comfort zone.

The first thing after the border was a toll booth for the road, then there was a customs point which was simply a matter of ride up, get a green light, ride off. After 20km or so there was an immigration post where I could pull off the road and get a tourist card and import docs for my bike, along with insurance. The stop was by no means compulsory, so I guess the police must enforce immigration... anyway after an hour or so standing around in the heat and humidity I was on my way.

Mexico is an immediate, stark contrast to the States. Clapped out cars and people cooking at the side of the road, people standing in the road selling things (including baskets containing what looks suspiciously like controlled substances) wherever sleeping policemen slow the traffic. I'd assumed that close to the border most folks would speak English, but aside from the lady in the insurance shop it was all Spanish.

After another toll booth I finally reached Santa Ana, and as it was getting on in the afternoon I decided to call a halt. I found a hotel that a guy in Tucson had recommended and fumbled my way through getting a single no smoking room for the night in my best Spanish. There was a restaurant attached and it had menus in Spanish and English, but ordering was still a slight challenge. At one point I think I asked for milk for my coffee, at least the waitress was confused and had to refer to another guy. I got the milk and we all had a good laugh at something. Presumably me :)

Heading south tomorrow, I've no idea how far though. The daily mileages have been falling steadily as it's got warmer.

Frase.