The End of the Road

Departing Horseshoe Bend and the town of Page, we rode past Lake Powell and continued into the scorching desert. We only had a short distance to go today which we became very grateful for as the thin morning clouds disappeared and the temperature soared to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Stopping for fuel and lunch at the only fuel stop we saw between Page and Zion national park, we took refuge from the sun in an old diner; here we saw a couple of Harley riders curiously covering their fingertips with tape which, as they informed us after they saw our puzzled looks, they had to resort to in order to protect their fingertips from the hot dry desert air which was causing them to crack and bleed with their fingerless riding gloves. Thankfully, our gloves weren’t fingerless and protected us from sharing a similar fate! Wishing them well, we set about wetting our riding gear in order to provide us with a primitive form of evaporative air conditioning then mounted our tired steeds and continued towards Zion.

Reaching Zion in the early afternoon, we proceeded to the secondary entrance to inquire about camping in the park, only to find that all of the campsites were full and were not likely to become free anytime soon. Lucky for us, there was a campsite just outside the park that we had passed through on our way to the gate so we turned around made our way to the office; finding that there were ample campsites available which were cheaper, more secluded and with already made fire pits and wooden tables, winning! The campsite manager warned us that they were expecting storms that night and the next day. Considering we had just ridden through what was probably the driest place we’d been on the trip, we thought the weatherman must have made a mistake; yet, having been reminded on the trip many times that Mother Nature is unpredictable, we decided to heed the warning and prepared our campsite for a storm. In this case, the weatherman had hit the mark, it stormed overnight and continued to rain intermittently the next day. This limited our exploration of Zion the next day as some of the trails were closed off due to the risk of flash-flooding, it did afford us some spectacular views though of water cascading down normally dry canyon walls.

The day after the storms, the sky cleared and it became insanely hot again; never an in-between. We went back into Zion to spend more time exploring the areas that were not open the day before, namely Angel’s Landing and The Narrows. The climb to Angel’s Landing was spectacular; sheer 1000 feet drops bordering a steep 1.1 mile return path up the ridge leading to the peak, with nothing but a chain bolted to the rock for safety. After admiring the views and making our way back to bottom of Angel’s Landing, we had a late lunch at the only restaurant in the canyon then headed for The Narrows. From what we’d seen on The Narrows, we had expected a very narrow canyon with a river flowing through it; however, we found that the river was actually quite wide and there were a huge amount of tourists moving through it. We followed the river for a while but decided to turn around after realising that we would wade a few miles through the murky water before we found solitude and, since it was getting late, we thought it would be best to leave that for the next time we were in Zion.

Saying farewell to Zion, we hit the road the next morning, aiming for a spot just short of Denver; our goal now was to head back to Michigan, we’d reached the limit of our budgets and were ready to be back in our own beds. As we rode further north-east the scenery changed dramatically from incredulously hot desert plains of Utah to forested mountain ranges most famously known as the Rockies. Riding through here was absolutely beautiful and much cooler thanks to the shade and elevation of the mountains. With evening fast approaching we decided to grab some gas for the bikes and ourselves, stopping at Wendy’s for dinner. Here we sat with our burgers and discussed what we were going to do about sleeping that night. We came to the conclusion that riding through Denver (which was about an hour away) in the morning would be terrible as we would encounter the busy morning rush to work; we decided that it would be best to blast through Denver that night. With gas in the bike and our belly’s we headed out into the dark night, making our way down the mountain towards Denver with our new destination being a rest area just past Denver. With the sun down it was absolutely freezing, we thought this was summer! Luckily for us we had sweaters and rain-jackets from M&M Motorcycles to keep us warm. As we got closer to the city we saw bright flashes of lightning and rain, just our luck. The road however, branched to the north and the wind was dragging the clouds south and we made it out of Denver and to our rest area for the night without getting too wet.

The next day we packed our gear for what would be the last time (hopefully) and headed into the corn field roads of the Midwest. Tim and Shaun had friends in Lincoln, Nebraska who they had intended on visiting for a few nights. We stopped at a gas station and discussed what we were to do. Chris decided that he really wanted to get home and see his parents and girlfriend so we parted ways there and Tim and Shaun rode to Lincoln, with Chris riding onwards to Iowa City and Kalamazoo the next day. In Lincoln Tim and Shaun got a tour of the city from their friends, ate great food, and fixed a lawn-mower. After a relaxing two-night stay with their family friends in Lincoln, Tim and Shaun reluctantly left the comfort of a home away from home and kept riding towards Milwaukee, Wisconsin where they would meet their parents and take the ferry across Lake Michigan and ride back home with an entourage of 2 Harley’s.

Since Tim and Shaun still had 2 nights till they were to meet up with their parents, they decided to break up the trip by spending half a day in Chicago; which turned out to be a fantastic decision. After finding a parking spot in downtown, they were greeted by a kind stranger who, having an interest in adventure riding himself, offered to shout them lunch in exchange for stories about the journey. Following a delicious lunch, Tim and Shaun walked down towards the Navy Pier, only to find out that The Blue Angels (arguably the best aerobatic display team in the world!) were practicing for the Chicago Air and Water show. How could this day get any better?!

After spending a great half-day in Chicago, Tim and Shaun left in the afternoon just before the peak hour traffic set in. Finding a nice rest area just over half-way between Chicago and Milwaukee, they stopped for the evening and walked across the road to have dinner before setting up. After setting up though, it became apparent that the warnings people had given us of camping in rest areas were not entirely false.. In the space of an hour, a very creepy man was caught trying to peep on both Tim and Shaun whilst they were using the restroom; an unfortunate ending to such an awesome day. Not willing to run the risk of the peeping Tom coming back while they were asleep in their tents and trying something more daring, Tim and Shaun decided to pack up and find the nearest hotel so they could sleep peaceably.

Upon rising the next day, Tim and Shaun completed their ride to Milwaukee, meeting with their parents for lunch. We walked around the local markets and grabbed some supplies for cooking dinner on the barbeque at the hotel that night: sausages and salad. Luckily the outside cooking area was undercover because we were blessed once more with thunder, lightning and torrential rain; our faithful companion throughout the journey. We slept well that night and rose in the morning with our sights set for Michigan as we rode to the dock that held our ferry back home. The lake voyage took a mere 3 hours to cross Lake Michigan and for the first time in close to 4 months we had our feet back in Michigan; ah what a feeling to be home! We rode off the ferry and pointed ourselves south heading for the quaint town of Kalamazoo: our starting point. The next 2 hours of riding went by in a blur as thoughts of home filled our heads, and soon enough we were riding down familiar streets and eventually pulled into our driveway. Home: the same as we left it 4 months ago only now much greener. How lovely it is to be back!

And so, after travelling 14 000 miles through nine countries in 3.5 months, our journey has come to an end. We’ve seen some incredible things, met some fantastic people and had experiences that we never would have imagined; it’s been an amazing adventure and, without a doubt, it’ll be something that we will all look back on in the future and think “wow, I can’t believe we did that!”. Thank you to our families for your love and encouragement; to our sponsors, M&M Motorsports, Contour and Princeton Tec, for your support both before and during the journey; to the friends we made along the way, you’re such an important part of what makes a journey great; and, to those of you that followed our journey along the way, we thank you for your prayers and encouragement. Most importantly though, we would like to thank our servicemen and women, both past and present; without the sacrifices you have made, we may not have had the freedom to undertake this journey. Although our adventure is over, we haven’t forgotten why we started in the first place; if you haven’t made a donation to the Wounded Warrior Project already then please, take a moment to think of those have given so much for your freedom, click on the “how to donate” tab on the top of our page and give a few dollars to help the thousands of wounded warriors and their families.

New Mexico, the Grand Canyon and motorcycle repairs.

Our stay in Las Cruces, NM was over when Tim's replacement spring finally arrived for the KLR. With no shop open that could fit the new spring we left and headed North West; with dusk fast approaching we decided to set up camp in a small town of 60 people: Pie Town. The town's claim to fame is the homemade pies that they whip up there. When we woke and packed our campsite away we set out on our quest to find some of this famous pie for breakfast. We went to the the two shops that made and sold these pie only to find them closed; dismayed we started to leave town when a shop that was open caught our eyes with a large sign out the front: Coffee. Well if we couldn't have pie at least we could have some coffee to pick us up. The shop was owned by two lovely ladies; full of jewelry, knickknacks and much more, we strolled around sipping on our coffee that they gave to us for free. We told them of our quest to find some pie only for them to reveal that they have some pie there. Hallelujah! Pie Town lives up to its name; the pie was delicious. Whilst enjoying our bounty we met a Frenchman who was riding the Continental Divide on a bicycle. What a long, slow, and tough journey; at least bicycles don't weigh 700lbs.

We then set our sights for the Grand Canyon with a scenic stop at the Petrified Forest National Park. This name was a little misleading as we all were expecting some trees standing that were petrified and more of forest. Nevertheless, it was cool to see these trees that had been turned, as if by magic, to rock. After hitting highway 40 heading West we set our cruise control until we arrived in Flagstaff, AZ. Here we happened across a motorcycle shop with the ability to change Tim's spring over. With a new spring and what felt like a new KLR we left with the hopes of happening across a rest stop to camp at as night was close at hand. We arrived at the rest stop only to find the entrance barred and a large "NO TRESPASSING" sign hanging on the gate. Seemingly out of luck we pushed on and found a campsite at the next highway exit. We pulled up and entered the reception of the campgrounds only to be told that they were closed. Bummer. As we were leaving a gentleman came after hearing what had transpired and told us of a great campsite just a little ways up the road, in the middle of the forest. Nature, seclusion, oh and bears. We decided to check our the site and immediately decided to stay when we arrived; it was so beautiful. With daylight fading we got to work setting up tents, collecting firewood for the night, and setting up early warning devices (lots of fragile twigs strewn around the camp) for bears. With the fire roaring we cooked up some delectable tin food, and enjoyed the soft glow of the embers in the fire. We made sure to put all of our food and trash far far away from the camp as to avoid our furry friends waking us up during the night. Following the very uneventful night we packed up our gear and loaded the bikes. The early warning devices work (or so we hope) as we didn't hear any branches snapping in the night; perhaps bears are very stealthy.

We left the forest haven that we slept in and rode, onwards to the Grand Canyon. The rate at which the scenery changed was incredible! One minute we were in the middle of a pine forest the next we were riding through sun scorched desert plains. Roughly 80 miles from our campsite we reached the Grand Canyon. Words cannot even begin to describe how amazing this enormous, impressive, even spiritual place is. We were all speechless upon first sight, and I am sure that most people have this symptom when they see this vast canyon before them. It's so hard to describe this feat of nature, and we are not poets so we will let the pictures we took do their best to explain. If you to are only travel to one place on this earth I would highly recommend it be the Grand Canyon. We somehow managed to pull ourselves away from the vistas of the Grand Canyon and continued our journey with a new destination in mind, Zion National Park. That day we managed to make it as far as Page, AZ and ended up finding a RV/Campground to stay at. Before arriving in this quaint town we stopped at another of Arizona's natural gems that it has to offer, Horseshoe Bend. This is another natural wonder that I do not possess the words to express. The magnitude of standing at the crest of the cliff overlooking the expansive canyon below that has been carved over many thousands of years by the green river below is almost too much to take in at once. Blink and pinch yourself because it surely doesn't look real.

USA bound!

After leaving the unexpectedly pleasant Puebla, we rode north for the city of Morelia which was just a stopping point to get to Guadalajara. Morelia was a very quaint and picturesque city with towering cathedrals in the center square and a pleasant atmosphere. The next day we rode the remaining distance to Guadalajara and found a friendly hostel to call home. But our trip for the day could not be that easy so just as we entered the city on a major highway, Tim's handlebars start to shudder violently and when we pulled into a service station, we were met with a flat tire. The very same tire that went flat in Panama, but thankfully Tim had invested in the proper tools to change it and after and hour of sweating the new tube was in and we were on our way. The Tequila Hostel was located just outside of the downtown area in walking distance of the markets and grocery stores, which proved useful as we would eventually spend over a week there. Upon arrival we noticed that Shaun's sprockets were entirely shot and his cheap chain was on it's last leg. After a good nights sleep we set out into town to find the parts needed. After bouncing around in the back of a taxi and going asking around for a “tienda para motos” we finally found a street that had a few stores but after checking a few different stores we were unable to find sprockets for Shaun's bike so we decided to order them and just wait for a few days. A few days somehow turned into a week. It was a pretty relaxing week in which we really didn't do much other than explore the city, change tires, enjoy some of the night life, and of course we saw Ant Man in a nearby theater. When the parts finally arrived we were quick to reassemble the bikes and hit the road.
We talked to a few locals about our route and everyone gave a look of horror when we told them that we were planning on going north into cartel controlled Mexico. Our first stop was supposed to be Durango where apparently “people are beheaded”. Considering we heard horror stories about almost everywhere we went and still have yet to see evidence of any real danger, we decided to proceed anyways. Upon arrival to Durango thankfully we were met with a nice town and friendly people. We got some street food and went to bed pretty early to prepare for the next day in which we planned to press further north into the copper canyon area. After leaving Durango, we made a stop in Hidalgo del Parral where we stocked up on food and other supplies to prepare for our desert and copper canyon trail riding. Our first day of heading towards copper canyon was a bit of shock as we pretty quickly ran into some very technical riding as the road deteriorated to the point of not really deserving the title, “road”. We had to learn quickly how to navigate deep and muddy trenches and steep uphills covered in mud and rocks. There were moments on the first day when we considered turning around but we decided to press on. After 4 hours of riding through mountain trails it became appearent that we were not going to make it to our expected destination of Batopilas. To add icing to the cake, the last hour of our day was filled with rain and thunderstorms, the perfect combination for riding on slippery trails that hugs the edges of cliffs. To our amazement we came into what looked like a small village. Too small to have a name. We were prepared to camp but we started to ask around to see if there happened to be a place to sleep somewhere and discovered that we were in an area that no longer predominantly spoke Spanish, but an indigenous language which made communicating interesting. But after ten minutes of charades and broken Spanish we were able to find a man named Reuben who owned a shed that was packed with 6 double beds. We negotiated the price for the room down to 250 pesos, less than $17 USD and moved in. It was a very interesting scene as we quickly became the spectacle to behold for the very colorfully dressed village inhabitants.
Dinner that night was inside the home of a nearby family where we sat at their kitchen table and enjoyed a delicious dinner for a reasonable price. Because we were so high in elevation, the room was equipped with a state-of-the-art wood burning furnace which we quickly lit and put to use drying our soaking wet gear. We slept well that night and the next morning we said goodbye to our hosts and continued down the dirt goat trail that supposedly lead to Batopilas. This day proved to be the most difficult and enjoyable riding we had experienced on the whole trip. Collectively we went down over 6 times and we spent a good amount of time pushing each other out of muddy ruts and up steep slip-n-slide hills. It was often difficult to appreciate the incredible scenery because we had to focus on staying alive so we took frequent breather breaks and had lunch in one particular cliff side lookout. Eventually we found a few dilapidated signs that pointed to Batopilas which confirmed we were heading the right direction. Within a few hours of lunch and after descending over 6,500 feet on rocky, switchback, cliff-edge trials we arrived in the very small town of Batopilas. It was here that we really encountered our fist taste of Cartel activity.
The northern section of Mexico is said to be almost entirely controlled by the drug Cartels because of the lucrative US border providing an endless source of demand for drugs. Admittedly we were skeptical of how accurate these claims were but quickly changed our mind when we saw that there were no police in this town, just very heavily armed men in large, expensive and unlicensed truck. Because Batopilas was en route to many nearby towns, we saw frequent pick up trucks full of armed men in the bed passing through and circling. Not just your average pee-shooters either, most of these men were toting heavily modified ak-47s and American M4's and had well-stocked chest rigs. It was also common to see these men walking down the street as well. Despite their intimidating appearance, the locals would just wave and smile as they passed. So we followed suit. We found a bug infested hotel to stay in for a decent price and brushed the bug carcasses off the beds and went to sleep. The next day we road on half pavement, half trail to the much larger and tourist-friendly town of Creel. We all felt like camping so we found a local mini supermarket to get supplies to camp and headed for a nearby lake where we found a beautiful place to set up. After gathering some firewood and starting a fire, we cooked our dinner and relaxed by the fire for the evening before retiring to our tents.
After waking up we packed up and made the 5 mile journey back into town to find a hotel to stay in and get information about a train that ran from Creel to Chihuahua. Our hope was to hitch a ride on this old, famous train that crossed the dessert but unfortunately it turned out that this was not possible. We enjoyed a relaxing day in town and spend some time planning the route for the next day where would make the over 400 mile ride to the United States border. 8 hours of riding got us all the way to the border where we had to wait in line to cross into the US for half an hour. When we got to the front of the line of vehicles crossing the bridge, we realized that there was not going to be anywhere to reclaim our $300 “import deposit” that was mandatory for entry into Mexico(only the second time). So the US border officals recommended that we cross of the bridge again back into Mexico to get information on where to go. Thankfully we can lane-split so we made it back across the bridge fairly quickly only to discover that the unmarked building we needed to go to was almost 20 miles back into Mexico. This a prime example of the logic used in this part of the world. So after getting only a brief taste of America we headed back into Mexico to retrieve our deposit and after an hour of riding we were back at the border. Chris, being American, was welcomed back with little interrogation and Shaun was let in with only minor searches but Tim got the full package. It took over two hours of questioning and waiting to resolve a visa issue before Tim was granted access to the land of milk and honey. At this time is was already after 10pm and thunder storming so we hopped on the highway and rode until we found a rest stop to set up camp a little after midnight. That night's was certainly not the most restful as thunderstorms rolled through for most of it but the next morning we went to the closest town of Las Cruces, New Mexico where we are currently staying while awaiting a rear suspension spring for Tim's KLR. It is surprisingly wonderful to be back in the United States. After three months of riding in third-world countries and not speaking English, the US is a very welcomed breath of fresh air. Thank you to all of the friends we made in Central America and Mexico who helped make our journey a little easier and more enjoyable.
Our plan is to head north west through the Grand Canyon and eventually Utah and Wyoming before we start heading east for Michigan. It is great to be back!

Into Copper Canyon!

Today we are making the journey into the hot, sunny yet ultimately beautiful Copper Canyon. This mountainous desert range is little know about and somewhat hard to get to, and controlled by Mexican cartels. We won't have internet for a few days but when we come back there will some stories to tell, and some amazing pictures of the excursion.
Don't worry, and see you on the other side!

Oaxaca and Puebla: mezcal, petrified waterfalls, hidden tunnels, mice and cathedrals.

Rising early, we departed Tehuantepec for our first point of interest on our return journey through Mexico, Oaxaca city. It was only 150 miles away, 150 miles of winding, picturesque, mountain road. Things were in our favour today though; the roads were well maintained, traffic was almost non-existent, there were no machete-wielding protestors, our chains didn't fall off and the weather was mild. Progress was quick and, apart from Tim being required to take it easy on the corners because his rear spring has lost its springiness and is in need of replacement, there were no problems; in what seemed like no time we made it to Oaxaca. Riding through the outskirts of the city it appeared that the city was nothing special, until we suddenly passed into the old center of town and found ourselves presented with beautiful old colonial architecture, reminiscent of Antigua. After finding our hostel and offloading our motorcycles we went out to explore the town in the afternoon sun, heading towards the zocalo (town square) to get our orientation. From the zocalo, Tim directed us to "La Casa del Mezcal", a mezcaleria he visited when he was in Oaxaca six years ago; here we sampled some mezcal, a liquor produced in the state of Oaxaca and similar in taste to tequila. Once we had taste-tested some delicious and some not-so-delicious mezcals, we walked across the street to the market to see some of the locally produced wares; there were huge amounts of products for sale but what really caught our eyes were the pet stores. We played with the rabbits, puppies and various other baby animals and then Shaun and Chris decided to buy a feeder mouse each to bring with them on the rest of the journey through Mexico and save from their fate of being food for pet snakes. Bringing their new pets home to the hostel, Shaun and Chris set about attempting to 'train' their mice so that they would get used to being handled. Chris' mouse "Stuart" seemed quite docile and was easily handled; however, unfortunately for Shaun, his mouse didn't seem to like him, wouldn't stop screeching and bit him, so Shaun was forced to let him go into the wild to make it on his own.

The next day we spent exploring more of the historical sights of Oaxaca, doing out some much needed laundry, relaxing and organising a tour of some nearby attractions which we would take the following day, on Shaun’s 20^th birthday. The tour we booked would take is to the Tule tree, largest tree in the world by volume and older than Christ; a place where carpets are handmade using traditional indigenous methods and colors; Mitla, the ruins of an ancient burial site once used by the Zapotecs; Hierve el Agua, a huge ‘petrified’ waterfall that has grown through millions of years of mineralised water bubbling up from underground and leaving deposits in the same manner of how cave formations are created; and, to finish the tour, we would stop by a mezcal manufacturing place to see how mezcal is still made using traditional techniques and to sample some more of the different varieties. Following the tour, we had to make a decision where we wanted to go next in order to make our way towards Copper Canyon, we could either follow the coast or go the inland route, dodging Mexico City to avoid getting stuck in its never-ending traffic again.

We decided to stick to the inland route, reasoning that we had spent a fair bit of time already along the coast in Central America and it would be quicker to go inland because we would avoid crossing the mountain range twice more. So, the day after Shaun’s birthday, we left Oaxaca for Puebla a town we knew very little about but selected primarily as a waypoint on our way to Guadalajara. After what was probably the most impressive scenery we’ve rode through so far, complete with grand views of desert plains skirted by mountains and a distant snow-peaked volcano, we arrived in Puebla and found ourselves presented with a town much like Oaxaca; however, far less populated by tourists. Upon checking into our hostel we decided to stay in Puebla for a couple of days to see what it had to offer; what we found did not disappoint. We saw the largest cathedral in Mexico (and possibly the largest building in Puebla) complete with soaring towers, doors big enough for giants to enter, ornately designed shrines and enormous organs; and, just a few blocks away was another church with enough gold leaf inside to rival a royal palace! There was a brilliantly done museum, displaying works ranging from ancient artefacts to interactive exhibits of modern art; complete with a great view of the city from its terrace coffee shop on the roof of the third floor. Just 20 minutes away by chicken bus we explored the ruins at Cholula, where a church had been built on top of the ruins of the destroyed temple to Quetzalcoatl. Underneath the destroyed temple there was 5 miles of tunnels, dug by an archaeologist in the 1930s to prove that the church had in fact been built on top of ruins, instead of just a hill as it appeared to the naked eye; most of the tunnels are sealed off now but there is still a path for visitors to explore. After being pleasantly surprised by the attractions of Puebla it’s time to head to our next destination, Morelia.