March 11, 2003 Finally arriving in the area we've been repeatedly warned about, I decide it is high time for our first flat tire. Yes, 100 miles in, my IRC tire (It's Really Crappy), pops open a one-inch gash. I thought it was a little odd when my foot brushed the pavement on the last turn. Dragging the pegs on a fully loaded KLR is not something usually encouraged. Dripping under the midday sun I pushed a little too hard trying to put the repaired tire back on. Gear, bolts a

Situated on one of the world's best surf beaches, Puerto attracts travelers from across the globe. Euro languages are heard more then English and most of the tourists seem to come for the waves. Not that this applied to me as I painfully recalled the coral reef and sea urchins that defeated me on my first attempt. Thus I spent my time sipping lucuados and reading the history of Cortez's invasion. As the Mexican sun torched my Washington skin I was once again reminded that I b

Thoughts of 5 lanes of traffic, roundabouts and everything else entailed in urban riding generally does not evoke a positive image. But with the correct vehicle and attitude it can entertain quite well. Though it should be noted that this thrill is confined to foreign travels where traffic laws are less strict. With 6 million inhabitants, Guadalajara provided an ideal training ground for our first true urban adventure. It began after meeting a friendly local motorcyclist who

One would imagine piloting a motorcycle at 70 mph would have a pleasantly cooling effect. While this holds true at more reasonable temperatures, when the mercury marches upward a distinctly opposite reaction occurs. Much of Mexico could be classifieds in this department and I hold no affinity for it. Wind, by itself is simply an instrument of change. If the temperature of the moving air is colder than your skin, the wind merely increases the rate of which the heat is pulled f

They call them coyotes. For some they are nothing less than the pearly gates of heaven. Decent wages, medical care and more than anything, simple opportunity awaits those who slip through the hollowed entrance. But for the average Mexican this lies not in puffy white clouds, but in the barb wire hills strung across the hills of the southern United States. California, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas form a porous and enticing frontier to those with enough money and huevos. And