Leaving the Three Palms, crossing into Mexico later than planned and ultimately a serendipitous new love .
My original intention was to cross the border much earlier in the morning. But I didn’t.
That lack of proper execution in getting an earlier start to cross into Mexico ultimately resulted in a serendipitous result of me getting stuck in the same place I hit that first night in Mexico. And I’m still here four days later and counting.
I’m writing this from the Hotel Moreira on Friday, 1/31/20. I arrived here on Tuesday, 1/28/20. Let’s back up a little so I can explain how this big accident turned out to be so blissful and fortuitous.
Monday night at the Three Palms Motel in Presidio and I’m packing up whatever I can ready so I can cross into Mexico early. My plan was to hit the border, a shy 2 miles away, around 8:00 AM. That Monday night when I arrived in Presidio at the Three Palms I realized that, once again, my low beam and high beams were not working. Time to break out the orange neon Gorilla Tape and jam it into the high beam switch so that I can keep the high beam flash button engaged. As I unpacked by bike and worked on the headlight situation I spoke to a bunch of friendly guys that had trailered some street-legal dirt bikes down from the Tulsa, Oklahoma area. Great guys and we talked about our own rides and riding in Mexico.
Tuesday morning, as I loaded my bike, some of the guys from that riding group came over and we spoke again. One of the guys was from Jersey originally so we talked about Jersey of course at it is one of those states that a lot move from but never really escape completely. And, of course, we talked about Jersey food. A couple of guys came over to talk about my upcoming trip, seeing the bags being installed. Everyone was interesting and these guys were mostly in their 60’s and still riding dirt like a 25 year old. These conversations pushed back my departure time to 10:30 AM but I have no regrets. Conversations and meeting people is one of the primary reasons for my travel. I love it and wouldn’t trade it for making progress or better time. However, this later departure and the subsequent ride placed me in Hidalgo del Parral (aka “Parral”)much later than I planned and it left me with much less time to find a hotel. But, that is also what resulted in me ending up in this hotel specifically and this hotel and its location is what has provided me with such a unique experience and provided me with an unseen love for a city that is new to me.
Border Crossing into Mexico quick and trouble-free.
My video attached below will better show what it is like to actually cross into a border rather than me explain it in detail. Video below is about 8 minutes long with my own commentary on entering Mexico. It starts as I’m on the main street in Presidio, Texas after leaving my motel and my thoughts and impressions as I head into the border. It might not sound like it but I’m nervous and anxious as this is a big moment that is a long time coming.
The border was about two miles away. You drive past the U.S. Customs without stopping and without being checked by anyone. You are slowed by some steel speedbumps but otherwise you are unimpeded. The other side to your left, the side entering the U.S., is a whole different story. The U.S. doesn’t care about you leaving so nothing is checked.
You then ride over a bridge over an arroyo (dry creek) and this is a “no man’s land” between the countries. For these few minutes it seems like you are a man without country. But then, you approach the Mexican customs buildings.
Let me state this. This entire Mexican customs area has completely changed since the last time I was here over 5 years ago. Everything is brand new (4 years old I found out later) and everything looks completely different.
I approached a young custom’s officer and asked if he spoke English. He did. I told him my intentions - I wish to import myself and import my bike into Mexico for the duration of about 2 months. He directed me to a parking lot in the near distance and told me to park and then walk inside the building behind him. He told me that everything I needed to get done could be done in this one building. Fantastico!
I rode to the parking lot, secured my loose items and walked inside the immigration building. It was clean, new and pretty much empty other than the 3-4 men that worked here. There was one guy that seemed to be like the immigration “guide”. He approached me, I told him what I was trying to do and he pointed me to a desk with another guy sitting down. The first guy spoke some English but this guy spoke none. Both were friendly though.
This guy at the desk sitting asked for my passport and my ID and I signed some documents and got my passport stamped. He allowed me to leave my heavy backpack and jacket behind at his desk as I walked over to the banjercito, just about 25 feet away inside the same building. How convenient. In most instances, including the border station years ago, the bank or banjercito, is in another building most inconveniently. Basically, he prepares your paperwork but you need to pay fees and then show him the receipts that you paid. This is the same for both importing yourself (immagracion) and importing your vehicle (aduana). You show your documents proving you are who you are and that you own the vehicle being imported, two different steps that requires two different sets of paperwork and two different visits to pay the fees at the banjercito and then giving the proof of payment to the official.
This is basically the same process no matter what border you are crossing although this one in particular was unbelievably convenient and easy. Other border I will cross with not be anything like this. A lot of borders (not this one) require you to not only get your documents but then go to another window or another building, get copies made of your stamped documents, then return to the official with the stamped photocopies.
So, I showed him proof of myself, paperwork signed, fee paid (with credit card), receipt given to him, give him proof of my ownership of bike (registration), signed some paperwork, back to bank window, paid fee (with credit card), brought receipt back to guy for bike and then I’m all done.
I set my stopwatch walking to the building and stopped it in the way out walking towards my bike. 32 minutes total. That was unbelievably easy and stress-free. I’m aware that the remainder of my border crossings will not reflect this one by any means.
I strapped my backpack back on my bike, took some sips of water, talked with the security guard watching over the lot and then rode through a tall, metal, open fence waving to that guard and entered Mexico and the city of Ojinaga. I was finally in Mexico!
That first day of riding in Mexico was long, straight and fast. It felt great to be here, anxiety melted away and I nearly ran out of gas because I’m stupid.
I passed slowly through the town of Ojinaga, not seeing any speed limit signs so I just went slow. Very slow just taking in the fact that I was not in Mexico and that it had been almost three weeks in the making just to get across this border. It is January after all, the heart of cold winter.
The plan this time was different than the last time I was here. Last time I rode Highway 16 out of town towards the city of Chihuahua. This time I was going to skip the Copper Canyon area, at least initially, and head instead towards the city of Hidalgo del Parral (“Parral”) heading south, south east on Highway 67.
The ride was long, straight and fast and there wasn’t much to see. It was tranquil and I couldn’t figure out the speed limits. There was rarely a house, it was flat desert with distant mountains and every once in a while there would be a farm. The speed limit, on the rare occasion I saw a sign, was unreasonably slow considering the environment, condition of the road and the lack of any other vehicles. I saw speed limits posted of 80 kmh (about 50 mph) on the longest, straightest and fastest parts with the rare exception of a 100 kmh (about 62 mph) sign. I tried to do 65 mph and I was getting passed by cars going at least 75 mph. I think one truck that passed me was going at least 90-100 mph. These Mexican speed limits are crazy. The only time I saw anyone driving the speed limit was on the approach to a town. Most likely, just as in the U.S., reduced speed limits upon entering towns are known speed traps. I didn’t see any cops though.
It was mostly an uneventful ride. I came upon the requisite military checkpoint after the established 20-25 mile area into Mexico and when I asked in bad Spanish if they wanted my papers they said “no” and told me to continue on. This checkpoint was at the junction and split of Highway 67 into Highway 80D towards Progreso and the continuation of 67 towards Comargo.
I continued on listening to podcasts while I rode against a strong headwind and, at times, sidewind gusts that pushed me into an unnatural lean to the side to counter the gust. It, however, felt awesome.
After over 160 miles without seeing a gas station I finally came into the town of Cuidad Camargo. There was construction on the main road into town and the ride was rough. I passed one gas station and it was busy with cars lined up. And, since I was crawling behind a big truck through a rough construction zone, I decided that it would be better to just get through this construction zone and continue until the next gas station where I could fuel up.
There has to be another gas station right up the road. Right?
No, there wasn’t. I left Camargo without seeing another gas station but I figured there would have to be another one coming up soon. I wasn’t worried.
I headed south on Highway 45D towards Jimenez. 45D is a cuota (a toll road) and before long I came upon the toll. As I approached the toll I pulled over off the road into some dirt in view of the large sign that stated the required toll fees based on vehicle type I saw. Motorcycles were to pay 48 pesos ($2.54 U.S.). Since I didn’t want the whole paying process to take longer than needed, as it is more of a process with a motorcycle - pull up to toll window, raise faceshield, remove gloves, unzip pocket, remove wallet, remove money, hand money, receive change/receipt, place change/receipt into wallet, wallet into pocket, zip up pocket, put on gloves, put down faceshield, start bike, get moving again.
I prepared a 50 peso bill and placed it in my riding pants left pocket. I removed my gloves and jammed them safely into my windscreen so I could access the bill easier and the change that would be given to me. I paid the toll and pulled off to the right in a small rest area to stretch my legs and eat the microwaveable breakfast sandwich I had heated way back in my motel room that morning and had stuffed into my backpack. Delicious.
I continued and veered right off the highway towards Parral on Highway 45, a free road. Still no gas stations passed and I watched as the fuel gauge bars on my bike dropped down to the final 2 (from 10 at full) and I slowed my speed to between 55-60 mph to conserve gas. I estimated that, worse case scenario, based on the number of miles I had remaining until Parral, my planned stop for the evening, and how many miles I get out of a full tank I estimated I would at least make it to Parral but not sure if I would make it until I found a gas station.
Luckily, somewhere about half way between the town of Jiminez and Parral I saw my savior in the form of a OXXO sign on the left side of the road and I could see the gas pumps in the distance. Saved!
OXXO is Mexico’s version of a 7-11 in the U.S. Sometimes they are in cities and are basically like a 7-11 without gas and other times out on the highways they have fuel pumps too.
I pulled up, paid with a credit card, and fueled up premium with the gas attendant pumping my gas into the tank. Most of the time I don’t allow this but I didn’t want to fight it. The bike took something like 22-25 liters (about 6 gallons) and the total price was 500.5 pesos ($26.53 US!). Expensive! No more premium fuel to be bought on this trip!
Entering Parral later than expected and finding a hotel that I hadn’t planned.
Parral came into view as I rode over a mountain ridge from the east. It opened up in front of me inside a valley and I could see smoke coming up in various locations like little fires. I’m not sure to this day what that was but I remember it distinctly.
Almost immediately the Puerto del Tiempo (Gate of Time) monument/structure came into view as it sat in a grassy area in the middle of a large traffic circle roundabout. I could see the lattice, steel structure and the two faces that protruded, facing out to the sides. Interesting welcome into the city.
The traffic was pretty hectic, but not overly aggressive and I tried to keep up as I rode deeper into the city with no idea where I was actually going. I was roughly hoping to just keep riding and find “el centro” and then find a hotel/motel from there.
I think I was on one of the major roads riding into the city, the Tecnologico and then followed traffic to the right at another circle northwest along the Avenida Indepencia. This road seemed like an middle-class shopping area with new car dealerships interspersed between restaurants and farmacias. I pulled over to the side of the road to check my Maps.me downloaded maps to see if it indicated any hotels. It showed two hotels not far from me and as I rode around these tight, city, one-way streets looking for the indicated hotels I couldn’t locate them. I pulled over again, just up the road from my present hotel in one of the busiest shopping districts in the city on Mercaderes and, feeling defeated and nervous that it would be dark within the hour and I was in a very busy city on a very busy street, I plugged “Durango” into my Maps.me so I could get directions to leave the city to head roughly towards Durango and maybe find a motel on my way out of Parral. There was no way I would make it to Durango tonight as it was over 5 hours away and I vowed to not ride in the dark this time in Mexico. I was still so nervous that I now had to navigate myself out of this city and still needed to find a place for the night.
I started following my offline GPS Maps.me and about a block later I saw a hotel on the corner and I saw a parking spot out front. It had an attached restaurant and it looked like it was over my budget but I figured I would pull into the parking spot and at least walk inside to find out how much a room would be for the night.
Hotel Moreira (and Restaurant Moreira)
That center window on the second floor above the “Restaurant Moreira” sign is my window along with the one to the right of it. It was an ideal room location.
I was told 630 pesos ($33.39) per night. It was over my planned budget but when I asked in poor Spanish where I could park my motorcycle, she pointed out a locked parking lot around the corner that had closed circuit video monitoring. The lobby was nice and the restaurant was attached from the lobby. She was friendly, understanding of my poor Spanish and it seemed to be in a central spot in the city.
I removed my tankbag, my backpack and my duffel bag and brought them up to my room. I went back out to my bike and parked it in the lot around the corner. The large electronic gate closed behind me, remotely controlled from the lobby.
*See room details under drop down for hotels/motels/camping*
I felt the heavy burden of not having a place to stay in a very foreign place as the sun was getting ready to set lift off of me as I went back out to my bike to move it.
It was at this moment a stranger approached me and introduced himself. He immediately started speaking decent English to me and welcoming me to his city. This same guy would days later, upon a chance meeting on a street further from my hotel, take me for a tour around part of the city and explain to me the history of Parral as we toured the Parral Historical Museum (Casa de Cultura Griensen).
My new friend. What a guy. First introduced himself to me after I checked into my hotel and was about to go move my motorcycle to the parking lot. Being the forever suspicious city Jersey guy, I was waiting for his pitch - needs money for the bus, has to feed a sick mom, etc. I hate to be cynical but that is what happens after living in a North Jersey city for so long and getting the constant pitches and hustles. I’m trying to break out of that mentality. This guy was legit and was awesome. He told me about this travels in the U.S. and places he has lived. A few days later we bumped into each other and he took the time out of his day to show me around his city of Parral and even gave me a tour of the Parral Museum (Casa de Cultura Griensen). He led me to the Pancho Villa museum before we parted ways. What a gentleman and overall great guy.
He told me about all of the states he visited and lived in in the United States. He was currently working on his green card to get back. But in the meantime he filled me in on the city and I hadn’t even parked my bike securely yet.
Hence, my gracious and welcoming introduction to a vibrant, multi-layered, friendly and authentically Mexican city I would slowly learn to love over the next few days.
Here in my hotel room getting ready to go out and walk, take some pictures, enter the Pancho Villa museum down the road and as I write this on Friday the fourth day since arriving, I find it so difficult to leave this place.