No rides were planned for this third day of the rally, Saturday, only a bus excursion to the National Park within the city, Barranca del Cupatitzio, followed by a second excursion to a museum and millinery.
We were due to leave at 9 am, however word came that there had been an hour delay and I found myself free for 30 minutes to wander around and take some pics.
I needed coffee and found a little coffee shop just around the corner.
My lovely and talented barristas who were shy until the camera came out
Liberty Bell got nuttin' on you
Throughout the town they were decorating for the Day of the Dead
I wandered around a bit, cuppa hot José in one hand and a camera requiring two hands in the other. Somehow I managed to not pour hot coffee down my shirt, but I looked like El Dweebo del Norte.
A few shots:
I finally ended up at the buses in front of the Plaza Hotel and found the gang. We were driven a short distance to Barranca del Cupatitzio, lying within the city itself.
Cupatitzio turned out to be a beautiful rain forest setting with lots of running water, stonework and fountains. Very beautiful place and surprising such an amazing place existed within such a rough and rugged city. The stonework was amazing and the fountains are all from natural water pressure.
Note the figure mid picture - he had just dove (dived? diven? doven? take your pick) from a tree limb about 50 feet over the little stream into a small deep hole. In the water. Not just a small deep hole.
More tree leapers were found
The crystal clear streams were full of drowned grubs - not sure if it was mass suicide or accidental drownings
Unfortunately for Javier, he thought the upcoming holiday was the “Day of the Grateful Dead”
The Lady of The Corn
From the park, we were taken by bus to an old fabric mill that had been turned into a museum on the top floor, a working fabric mill in the basement and a large conference center.
Our bus featured anti-lanesplitting devices
The vendors kept us in bottled water and tiny bottles of Corona
Each place we went, all the tortillas were hand made. I was told these particular tortillas used black corn which is evidently rare. The other tortillas used blue corn, the color actually from a blue fungus I was told. All I can say is a lot of fungus died for the cause.
Hank, Sherry and I explored the upper floor of the building, a converted fabric mill, then the basement which still housed the working mill and many photo opportunities.
Wandering around, I bumped into Mark from Colorado and we hung out for a bit. Cullen arrived as well and the two began planning their return to the States. BMW had rider's clinics going, but since they were in Spanish we just sat outside in the shade and acted cool. Well, as cool as "heavyset" middle aged guys can act...
In a bit Hank swung by and said "Comida" so we wandered up to the main hall and were ushered in past a red R1200GSA - the one to be given away - and were handed more swag from babes. I got a black corduroy Negro Modelo hat, a free bag, and some other stuff. As usual the hat is too small for my fat head and simply falls off if I lean. Oh well what's new.
Hank and Cullen had gotten not one, but two caps from the Corona girls, a green one resembling a Che Guevarra hat minus the red star and a super cool black one.
We found a table and the slow but sure process of continuous feeding began. The weird thing is that at each event, with a hundred tables or more, we always ended sitting next to the same guys every time. Even weirder is the fact that I had the same waiter at each function.
Schnazzy!
We were regaled with music, indigenous dances and more.
While standing in the “free ice cream” line, suddenly two beautiful girls butted in the line directly in front of me. It turned out they were the two girls from the Zirahuen lunch day, the “Copper Queens” who’d been wearing the crowns with red, white and green dresses and greeting everyone. “Princesa” (in the blue) acted snooty, while “Reyna” (prison stripes) was a bit sheepish and apologetic - not that I’m bitter or anything. I looked around and a few observers were chuckling so I winked and smiled. Just goes to prove “beauty before age”.
With sweaty palms and our acceptance speeches planned, the drawings for gear and the R1200GSA motorcycle arrived. Sadly, none of us won the motorcycle, but my speech was so well written I saved it for the next year’s rally… just in case.
Once we realized we hadn't won anything, there was a mad rush for the door. Once in the lobby we realized that the “riding” photos the roadside photographer had been taking were for sale. They were sorted by day and motorcycle type. Day 1, R1100 GS and R1150 GS. Mine were easy to find since there were literally only 3 bikes in the stack.
Back to the room, Cullen and I started packing. I decided to leave all my local sweets and nuts and thingamabobs for the cleaning lady and got ready to leave the next morning. Cullen was from Nevada and Mark was heading for Colorado, so they had a vague plan to head north, however Cullen had met a guy at the dinner, who had a 10 room house in Guadalajara and insisted Cullen and Mark stay at his place on the way.
The next day would find us parting ways, as Hank and Sherry, Rob and Jimmy and I would head for Valle De Bravo, then work our way northeast for Laredo.