Article - Guaymas Mexico page 4

Combine that with the maniacal driving methods of the locals, and even bungee jumping or 'gator wrassling paled in comparison to this ride. Even if there were center stripes on the road, I dont 'think the locals would have cared. Driving very slowly smack-dab in the middle of the road was de-rigeur, even in blind corners. The only traffic even trying to go fast (besides us) were the Mexican tour busses, the drivers doing their own Fangio imitations behind the wheels of the oil-stained, smoke-belching behemoths. Until that day, I thought I'd never see a fully loaded bus out-brake and pass a Toyota MR2 on the outside in a switchback. Truly an impressive sight. On the other hand, Mexican tractor-trailer rigs seem to have a top speed of approximately 3 miles per hour. Downhill.

We survived our highway 2 episode to refuel in Imuris, and headed toward highway 15 for the final leg of the day into Hermosillo. Imuris was our first reminder that Mexico is a third-world country. Although the poverty was rather evident, the residents were more than friendly, offering everything from a bike wash to, the best I could decipher, an oil change on the spot. We politely declined, and jumped on the interstate. As with most interstates 15 was flat, straight and largely unchallanging, although it was broken up with the occasional toll booth. Tolls were not expensive, and if you have not yet exchanged American for Mexican money, no worries. American monies are accepted at the booths.

Darkness fell upon our arrival into Hermosillo, and the night splendor rivaled those of any American city. A Best Western hotel not only had our reservations but was also found easily enough, and with the bikes parked out front check-in was painless. We asked the desk attendant if there was somewhere besides the street where we could park the bikes for the night. "No problemo", came the reply. "Just follow Indigo here. He show you."Her smiling companion motioned for us to follow him, where he

promptly led us outside and opened the double doors into the downstairs bar and lounge! "In here??" Tom asked. "Si, si ! No problemo!", our new friend pointed inside. "No one bother them. Go ahead!" Still hardly believing this, we rode our bikes down the sloped and stepped walkway and into the bar where pictures were proudly taken (most with our new friend Indigo),