Parte Dos: D.F. and Wet Tortas

Hola...

Thought that I´d add to my sprint experience post before the memories fade and before I get into my new trip.

Second day in Mexico was incredibly successful. Woke up at the gas station I crashed at and cruised to Mexico D.F. As I approached the city I realized that luck was on my side. The city is normally a smog filled basin, thicker than Los Angeles on the worst of worst days. But the day I rolled in it was the clearest I had ever seen. Descending into the valley I could see the entire city (and what an ENORMOUS city it is!) sprawled before me. It was so clear that entering in the northeast I could see Popo and Itza the two resident volcanoes that make the southern border of D.F. their home. With the sun shining on me I knew nothing could go wrong... which is expecting a lot in the headquarters of some of the most money grubbin´ policia in Mexico. Rarely do you pass through the city without a cop pulling you over for a mordida (bribe). The reasons can be various and ridiculous: tinted windows, you look like a American movie star (as one officer once told me - Brad Pitt he said. Not too much of a stretch if you ask me :) so I kindly padded his pocket with a crisp 50 peso note.) or just looking like a gringo. This day though was an exception and I made it through without a wrong turn or a cop encounter.

On the other side of D.F. I saw a motley bunch of Mexi-hippies hitching for a ride and decided a little company might be nice... and also a good way to practice my Spanish. I pulled over and all 4 of them ran over to the van, dreads flapping as they dragged all their goods my way. They piled into the back with all their equiptment which was comprised of 4 big packs and 4 HUGE drums. They had a couple of jambays and 2 hugies that they called ¨doon-doon¨drums. They were about the size of oil drums and reminded me of the daddy drums that the slavemaster in the back of viking oarships used to maintain paddle rhythm... ¨doon-doon, doon-doon, doon-doon¨.

They where an ok bunch of kids... 3 Chilangos (slang for people from Mexico City) and a Costa Rican girl all in there early twenties. We talked for a little bit about everything... Music, where they were from, politics. It was nice to spit a little Spanish and get into the groove. After a couple of hours we got into a driving groove... music and highway lines. They wanted a ride to Palenque which took 12 hours and seeing as though I met them at 1:30 pm that would mean that I would be on the road that day for almost 18 hours... a long day!

It got pretty dark out and things were quiet for a while. Then Arife offered me a sandwich. I was a little apprehensive about what kind of sandwich these guys would throw together so I refused. But then a little later I saw him eating his and my stomach intervened. I accepted. He handed me the white bread bag with the last sandwich inside and I dug in and grabbed it. It was moist and heavy, but at this point, as he was watching me intently, I realized that I was in it for the long haul. My mind was telling me that a wet, sloppy, brick of sandwich thrown together on the side of the road by a 20 year old Mexi-hippie was probably something you should stay away from altogether... but out of respect I bit in. And it was... DELICIOUS. Not sure exactly what it was, but from the fact that there were chunks of meat in it I´m fairly certain it was a cold hotdog, mayonaise and jalepeno sandwich. Normally 2 of those ingredients I would avoid like the plague, but with their powers combined they form the super-sandwich!

Eventually I pulled off the drive and we arrived in Palenque about 1:00 am. Slept like a rock and was up when the steamy tropical weather enveloped me at about 8:00. Dropped the hippie quartet off at some commune where they were going to play drums for the week and then pushed onto Laguna Bacalar for a short day of driving (9 hours).

My final sprint day I made my way up to the Mayan Riviera and rolled into the campground in Xpu-ha where we stay with our groups. A couple of tour guide friends of mine were there as well as the same familiar residents doing what they were doing last year when I left (sitting in lawn chairs, drinking beers and eating sun sandwiches). I was good to see a couple of familiar faces as it had been some time but I didn´t get to enjoy it too long as the carnitas tacos from the roadside stand in Puerto Adventuras were doing a number on my stomach.

And so I had a arrived to my destination. Spent the next day getting the ends tied and making my way to the gateway hotel in Cancun.

The transition began... The end of the sprint and the beginning of my fourth season in Mexico. How will it go? Vamos a ver!