I was up earlier than the others, feeling like I was made of lead, intestines rumbling and feeling weak. I made my way down the street and sat in the cold air of the plaza, thankful I hadn't gotten violently ill the night before. From my laptop and using the free wifi, I posted a photo for my friends to know I was still kicking since I hadn’t updated the report for a couple of days.
I went back up the hill and retrieved my bike from the parking lot while the others were getting up and about. I was packed early and then we congregated for breakfast at a little cafe on the square. I forced down an apple pastry and a capuccino, as well as a bottle of water.
Rob and Jimmy were going to part ways with us and spend another couple of days before returning. I had debated staying with them, but in the end decided to stick with Hank since it was a more direct route.
We said our adios' and parted, riding up the cobblestone streets out into the sunshine and onto main roads, our plan being lunch in Matehuala which was about 5 hours north, and then on to Saltillo.
I shot some GoPro footage but I have to say I've been very frustrated with it. I brought 6 batteries and kept them charged, however every time the runtime varies wildly, sometimes lasting 5 minutes and sometimes 20. The only consistent thing they do is die right when something interesting comes up. Oh, and always getting condensation in the case and fogging the lens. Hank was having the same issues and we both had almost decided to pitch them for good.
So, my video consists of either interesting footage completely ruined by condensation, or footage of boring crap just before great scenery arrives and the battery dies. There has been much frustration with my new video toy.
The air was very cool this morning - eye watering - as we merged onto the highway southwest back to Queretaro and then eventually north for Saltillo. Blasting 85 mph for long periods, the vistas changed and yet remained the same. From high plains lower into the desert, the familiar crumbling buildings painted with Corona signs and partially completed concrete buildings with rebar standing above the roof lines. Burros, horses, cattle and sheep grazing in and on the highway medians, every so often a broken down Ford pickup on the side of the road - of which I've counted 10 to 1 being maroon colored - and the groups of locals waiting at the lonely bus stops with plastic grocery bags as their luggage.
It felt great to be riding right behind Hank and not 200 yards back as the last week. Being the tail end of a high speed train is not easy. You have to watch all the bikes ahead of you, as Hank sped, split and wove through traffic, keeping an eye on the three bikes in front of you and trying to gauge what they're about to do, an eye on the cars, trucks and buses all around you, the various cars, semi's, dogs, potholes, topes and people along the roadside and running across the road, only to try to make the gaps in traffic before they closed, which rarely happened.
As well, when you pass through the toll booths, everyone ahead has waited and had time to adjust glasses, clean shields, put away money and wallets, but as you exit the booth they all take off like the start of a motocross race and you have no time to adjust things or pocket your money or a thousand other little things. It got a little frustrating at times but that's just part of the game.
One thing I've found interesting has been the conversations, or rather lack thereof, with the gas station attendants. For me, the concept of having someone pump my gas is a new one. The routine being, pull up to pump, get off bike, take the tank bag off, point to Red Premium and say "Rojo", have the attendant say "Roja?", to which I say "Si, gracias" then the attendant then asks in Spanish "how much" (at least I assume that's what he or she is asking) and I then point up to the sky, or raise my hand like water level rising, or some other inane thing, but they understand. Or as a couple of them have done, let me go through an entire hand signal routine complete with tap dancing, and they then say "You mean full?" in English. Eventually I learned “lleno” which helped a bit.
At any rate, I try to have some discourse, which entails "Buenos Dias", "Muy Bueno" and then shortly after, "No Habla Espanol". It's been interesting as some attendants have worked in the US and enjoy speaking in English. Today when I pulled in for gas, three attendants came over and began trying to communicate with me about travel, the bike and such, all in Espanol. One finally said "Mexico bueno?" so that I could understand, to which I said loudly "Viva Mexico!". They all burst into smiles and shouts and we had a good laugh. I drove out to the sounds of "Adios Amigo" and "Buen Viaje".
When we broke for lunch in Matehuala, Sherry wasn't doing well. She'd had a back muscle go wonky and was miserable. She medicated, and Hank said he'd decided to head across the mountains for Linares and on to Santiago, which would put us later in the day, but was a more interesting road. My stomach issues had slowly passed and that was certainly fine with me.
We headed north until finally reaching the highway east for Galeana in the mountains, and Linares on the eastern side, the first mile or so being talcum powder dirt from road construction. A water truck had just heavily doused the deep powder and I watched Hank weaving and wobbling in the slick stuff, as did I until I was able to get over into the oncoming lane which was mud-free.
When we finally got into the mountains I was treated to one of the best roads I've yet ridden. Super twisty, high drop-offs, no railings, spectacular mountain views and one heck of a ride! I don't think I've ever scraped so much metal and boot rubber. Had a ball!
And of course the GoPro died just as I hit the good stuff…
We finally crested the mountain range, getting gas at a station outside Galeana and headed downhill for the valley on the eastern side of the mountains which was much, much warmer than the western side. We passed through multiple checkpoints, through large vehicular X-ray machines with steely-eyed machine gun toting policia and military watching.
It had gotten very hot but we arrived in Santiago, just south of Monterrey, late in the day. As we rolled into the old downtown plaza, there was much activity in preparation for a happening on the square. In each town we've been in, other than Bernal, there has been something going on.
The hotel faced the square and the street had been cordoned off. We were allowed to pass to the hotel, but had to unload quickly and get the bikes into the garage, as they did not want the bikes there.
As we piled off, there was a high school band practicing in the plaza, playing hard core military type drum music.
Hank went inside and Sherry laid down on the sidewalk from her back pain. I felt for her, as back pain is the worst.
After dumping gear in the rooms, it appeared we were the only guests in the beautiful place. Hank had been told that the hot water had to be fired up and it would be a while before we could shower. I tried to get online but the password wasn't working.
Hank knocked on my door and I told him we'd meet in the square. There was a stage set up, as well as chairs. Tonight was a formal gathering in front of the church, with dignitaries and the mayor giving a speech.
We walked the town for a bit, listening to the reverberations of the speeches and then mariachi music.
A fireworks finale was the signal for dinner in the hotel restaurant.
As we ate, the dignitaries and mayor filed in in groups, going downstairs to a private meeting room.
Santiago was very pretty and quiet. It is sort of a suburb town for Monterrey and looked like a great place to live. Hank said that the town used to be busier, however one of its mayors had challenged the drug cartels and was assassinated, leading to tourist shops leaving. No further incidents had occurred, so the town was slowly recovering. There was only the one hotel, and from the looks of it being empty I guessed the lack of tourism had left it lonely as well.
I liked Santiago and its peacefulness, a place I’d enjoy spending a couple of days relaxing.
Tomorrow Laredo and then home.
The Route: