Maruata
(DAY014 : Tecoman - Maruata : 90 miles)
In the morning I noticed that Katirga had shed her first bolt, one of the few I hadn't applied Locktite to. Wasn't a big deal as the exhaust clamp it holds does not bear much load and I had a matching spare. Others look fine so far. I had marked all critical bolts with red paint so that a visual inspection is sufficient to check tightness.
I have gone through many curvy sections since the beginning, but after Tecoman it was one hairpin after another, tighter than any other so far. When they're this tight and with no end in sight, it can get a bit tiring. After all, Katirga is not quite what you'd call flickable, even with no luggage on board. In fact, the very first time I threw her into a curve I thought tires were flat and forks were made of rubber. What happens when you get off a Speed Triple and hop on a KLR (or an R1200 GS for that matter). The curves eventually eased up to become fast sweepers, which is when we have a lot of fun. Then, it all got laid out in fresh smooth asphalt, and mischief became irresistable! When we started scraping her footpegs I finally knew for sure that the panniers weren't mounted too low. But that kind of road never lasts forever. When I turned around for a second run, I kind of knew Zihuatanejo might not be where I sleep tonight. (Easy way to turn off all reason: just yell "shut up! shut up! shut up!" in your helmet) When I was done playing with my toys, the sun was rather low, and I had only covered 60 miles for the day.
Faster, faster !.. (Tsk, tsk, tsk.)
Just after the fresh asphalt ends, there's a dirt road, scratch that, a dirt path going steeply down from the road and a sign about camping. If I take it, it may turn to sand or mud and take us down. Correction: if it turns to sand, it WILL take us down. Because in sand, you need to gas it and ride like you don't care. At this time and place, and with 60 kgs of fragile luggage, I really do care, so you get the picture.
At 5 pm, like I had an option. Of course I took the path. Of course it turned to sand. Of course... Ha! I didn't fall :) Better yet, it lead me to an awesome beach in a small cove. I set up my tent close to the restaurant, which in fact is just a shack with a small generator next to it. After a pack of chips with beer as the only meal of the day, I was chatting with Jesus from Mexico City, his French speaking Canadian girlfriend Melanie, the Swiss guy who's also headed to Ushuaia, but, get this, on a bicycle, and his friends, and other neighbors. Later, we continued our consumption of Ballenas by a big fire until every one of us was useless. It was an unforgettable night, even though I forgot everyone's names. In the morning, I found myself (half-)alive again in my tent. I had a nescafe, packed-up, and stupidly left without even swimming in that gorgeous cove.
The place is Maruata. It's after the town itself, but before Plaja Maruata. I promise that it's beautiful, although I can't promise it's always that much fun.
My punishment for having fun all day.
View from my tent in the morning. But the hangover...
In the morning I noticed that Katirga had shed her first bolt, one of the few I hadn't applied Locktite to. Wasn't a big deal as the exhaust clamp it holds does not bear much load and I had a matching spare. Others look fine so far. I had marked all critical bolts with red paint so that a visual inspection is sufficient to check tightness.
I have gone through many curvy sections since the beginning, but after Tecoman it was one hairpin after another, tighter than any other so far. When they're this tight and with no end in sight, it can get a bit tiring. After all, Katirga is not quite what you'd call flickable, even with no luggage on board. In fact, the very first time I threw her into a curve I thought tires were flat and forks were made of rubber. What happens when you get off a Speed Triple and hop on a KLR (or an R1200 GS for that matter). The curves eventually eased up to become fast sweepers, which is when we have a lot of fun. Then, it all got laid out in fresh smooth asphalt, and mischief became irresistable! When we started scraping her footpegs I finally knew for sure that the panniers weren't mounted too low. But that kind of road never lasts forever. When I turned around for a second run, I kind of knew Zihuatanejo might not be where I sleep tonight. (Easy way to turn off all reason: just yell "shut up! shut up! shut up!" in your helmet) When I was done playing with my toys, the sun was rather low, and I had only covered 60 miles for the day.
Faster, faster !.. (Tsk, tsk, tsk.)
Just after the fresh asphalt ends, there's a dirt road, scratch that, a dirt path going steeply down from the road and a sign about camping. If I take it, it may turn to sand or mud and take us down. Correction: if it turns to sand, it WILL take us down. Because in sand, you need to gas it and ride like you don't care. At this time and place, and with 60 kgs of fragile luggage, I really do care, so you get the picture.
At 5 pm, like I had an option. Of course I took the path. Of course it turned to sand. Of course... Ha! I didn't fall :) Better yet, it lead me to an awesome beach in a small cove. I set up my tent close to the restaurant, which in fact is just a shack with a small generator next to it. After a pack of chips with beer as the only meal of the day, I was chatting with Jesus from Mexico City, his French speaking Canadian girlfriend Melanie, the Swiss guy who's also headed to Ushuaia, but, get this, on a bicycle, and his friends, and other neighbors. Later, we continued our consumption of Ballenas by a big fire until every one of us was useless. It was an unforgettable night, even though I forgot everyone's names. In the morning, I found myself (half-)alive again in my tent. I had a nescafe, packed-up, and stupidly left without even swimming in that gorgeous cove.
The place is Maruata. It's after the town itself, but before Plaja Maruata. I promise that it's beautiful, although I can't promise it's always that much fun.
My punishment for having fun all day.
View from my tent in the morning. But the hangover...
posted by Serdar at
9:50 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home