It was a classic example of a motorcycle trip - plenty of gas stops, cigarettes, coffees, and classic rock. We began our adventure in San Cristobal, Ciapas. Unlike other motorcycle trips, we travelled one-way with all our stuff, instruments, and gear given to us. We left with $200 and knew we'd run out along the way.
Leaving a place is half the work of a trip, there's always something holding you back another day, and then another. We just had to drive out of the city, whatever city that held a grip on us, and feel the countryside roads with the engine roaring and the wind quietening all trouble.
We built a one-wheel motorcycle trailer for our dog Patita who decided to go on her own trip in Mexico City, leaving a bit of sadness behind every time I'd load her part of the trailer with our backpacks. We were probably too ambitious to travel 3000 miles with a Belgian shepherd on the back of the bike.
We rode along the Mezcal roads of Oaxaca, drove through the big city of Mexico and into the desert roads of San Luis Potosi. We crossed the border through Laredo and spent a few days penniless travelling 60 miles at a time, playing music at gas stations.
Along the way people at gas stations and restaurants gave unexpected donations to our trip. Maybe because of the strange trailer we hauled or because there was a beautiful girl riding along, enduring the hot and long roads in good fashion.
Texas was boiling in June. Flat, hot, and with long stretches in between gas stations where we'd turn the engine off when travelling downhill while leaning forward to decrease the wind drag. Riding into New Mexico, we began to climb and wind around the canyons.
The flatlands were replaced by copper and ore canyons and Navajo gas stations made for much more interesting breaks. Driving straight up the Great Plains, there were dozens of deer off the highway and the great thirty wagon trains carrying stuff up and down the middle of the country.
We climbed up into Colorado and stopped to camp one night in Durango. The roads were beautiful and the 70 degree weather made for the best riding of the trip. That was the last day of the first part of the trip, since Moab was only a few hours from the Utah border.
We made it to Moab, Utah in a week. It was our first long stop, where we met up with an old climbing buddy who showed us around the crags and helped us find work in town.
One could drive 1000 miles just around Utah and all empty canyon roads, camping in all the free spots, and enjoying the sights with no one to break the 70mph meditation. Moab was a great place to stop for a few weeks in anticipation of the next destination.
Written by Esty Pinto