No rides were planned for Saturday, just a short bus excursion to the National Park within the city, followed by another excursion to a "factory".
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.
Throughout the town they were decorating for the Day of the Dead
I wandered around a bit, cup of hot Jose' 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 sure 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 the National Park, within the city itself, and it turned out to be a beautiful rain forest setting with lots of running water and fountains. Very beautiful place and I was surprised it had been able to remain intact for so long.
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.
The crystal clear streams were full of drowned grubs - not sure if it was mass suicide or accidental drownings
I think he was preparing for the Day of the (Grateful) Dead
From there we were taken by bus to an old fabric mill that has been turned into a museum on the top floor, a working fabric mill in the basement and a huge conference center.
Our bus featured anti-lanesplitting devices
No latte's in sight, but plenty of Corona Light
Each place we went, all the tortillas were hand made by the ladies. I was told these particular tortillas used black corn which is evidently rare. The other tortillas used blue corn, which I was told is actually a blue fungus which gives the color. All I can say is a lot of fungus died for the cause.
Hank, Sherry and I explored the building and I got stuck in the basement, mesmerized at the step back in time and the incredible photo ops there.
Wandering a bit I bumped into Mark from Colorado, and we hung out for a bit. Cullen arrived as well and they began planning their return. BMW had rider's clinics going, but since they were in Spanish we just sat 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 1200GSA - 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.
Eventually, 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. Poor guy.
We were regaled with music, Indian dances and much more.
My thrill of the evening came when standing in the free ice cream line. Suddenly, two young beautiful girls butted in line in front of me, and it turns out they were the two girls from Zirahuen who were wearing the crowns and red, white and green dresses. I called them the Copper Queens since they had represented Zirahuen and wore some amazing copper jewelry and crowns. One acted quite regal and the other a little apologetic. I didn't care. BTW they both went for ice cream and cheesecake.
With sweaty palms and our acceptance speeches planned, the drawings arrived, eventually ending with the 1200 GSA. Sadly, none of us won, but my speech was so well written I'm saving it for next year.
Once we realized we hadn't won, there was a mad rush for the door, but once in the lobby realized that the riding photos 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, where Cullen and I packed. I decided to leave all my local sweets and nuts and thingamabobs for the cleaning lady and got ready to leave Sunday morning. Cullen and Mark had a vague plan which seemed to head north, but Cullen had met a guy at the dinner who had a 10 room house in Gudalajara or someplace and had insisted he and Mark stay at his place.