After leaving Durango, just as I hit the outskirts of town two large BMW GS’s past me to my left. Not far up ahead they both stopped with one pulling up next to a state police officer that was standing outside his vehicle. That was Juan and he was asking the best route to take.
The second rider was Mark and I pulled up to him asking in Spanish if he spoke Engish.
“Of course I do. I’m Canadian.”.
I discovered that they were heading over to Mazatlan to spend the night by way of the Espinazo. I told Mark that I would keep up for a while and if I dropped off to take photos that I would probably catch up.
I rode in the third position behind both riding the libre (free road) most of the time and the cuota (toll) to ride over the Beluarte Bridge. We stopped for lunch at a roadside shack in view of the bridge. We stretched our legs, had some food and beers, took some photos and we were back on our way. Somehow we missed the “Ruta 666” sign that I missed last time. Next time.
I had plans to stay somewhere south of Mazatlan to avoid the high room costs. But once we rode the malecon together finding a motorcycle bar to drink beers and eat ceviche, and watched the sun set over the Pacific there was no way I could leave. Plus, I promised not to ride in the dark.
Juan had heard about a place on the beach where I could camp. We rode from the bar trying to find me somewhere to stay. The campground was no longer and Mark found a decent place in the old section where I would pay about 600 pesos or $30/U.S. It was just a night in Mazatlan, somewhere to stay with a promise to meet them at 10 AM at their hotel near the beach.
What I hadn’t realized after the initial property they took me to only had street parking and was located in a quiet, local neighborhood was that the sister property they would direct me to about 12 blocks away, further from the beach was considered and decorated as such - the historic zocalo of Mazatlan.
I hadn’t even thought of a touristy, beach resort like Mazatlan, where the focus seemed to be on the beach and malecon, had a historic, old section.
A few blocks up from the initial hotel, I started to see colonial buildings lit up from recessed lighting in the sidewalks, cobblestone roads and a fanciful decorated heart just off in the distance. I got excited thinking that this was just going to be a place to crash for the night - get my cold mild and downloaded Netflix. I didn’t realize this was going to be a walk around and photo type of night.
There square was busy and it felt like there were a lot of Americans and other English speaking tourists there. It was beautiful and cool to walk around for a bit but not my thing.
After almost missing the 10AM meetup at their hotel the next morning due to bad directions, all three of us head out towards some place south called Sayulita.