swamp: Mexistan and Central Bunghole

Cool to see a RR this awesome by a neighbor. Have to buy you a beer sometime.

I will definitely take you up on that beer. give me a shout anytime.

Ever figure out what caused the tire failure? Was it from bad mounting before the bike was shipped, which then led to the road failure in Mexico?

Friday April 12th 2014- “stuck waiting”


I slept like a dead man last night. I’m always amazed at how a good night’s rest has the ability to reset the mental switches. No matter how bad the previous day was, sleeping it off always works. Good sleep is a luxury. It has the magical ability to erase the stress and frustrations of the previous day. The more challenging the day, the better the sleep is at night.


Protein bar and water for breakfast. No appetite, all that really matters is getting the bike moving forward again. My sandals had busted my winter toe cherry while I was running around, jumping through my own asshole doing importation errands in Progreso. It’s funny how if the feet go without wearing sandals for a while their tolerance to “the thong” needs to be built up again. I hobble over to the bike shop to get the bike ready for the fresh meat.


I remove the wheel then pull the tire and tube off. The little service area in the back of the shop is filled with gas fumes. My bike is sitting in a puddle of its own fuel. For some reason it has started leaking gas everywhere. I remove the seat and check all the hoses. Everything seems to be tight ((“hmm&#8221). I notice that it is pooling up on top of where the fuel pump is. It seems to only leak when the tank is filled to its capacity. I’m really not worried about it other than the fumes are getting me and everyone in the shop stoned and it’s a giant inferno waiting to happen.


High on Gas and prepping for another tire change (tire #3)



*for those of you that don’t know, the BMW Sertao has a gas tank that is located under the riders ass. The air box is situated where the gas tank is “normally” located.


My Amigos from the Yamaha shop. Pictured From left to right:
Manuel, El Guapo, Jorje






After sitting around on my ass for a few hours listening to Narcocorridos blasting from Manuel’s shop computer (El Komander became my favorite)…. any guy with piles of cocaine, hot chicks and guns is definitely speaking my language.



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11:00 rolls around and still no tire so I decide to walk around the town and wait for something to happen to me. Eventually a guy in a little red Toyota pulls up next to where I&#8217;m sitting on the curb, gets out of the car and starts talking to me in English. His name is Oscar and he used to live in Washington State. He is interested in my trip, tells me that its odd to see a traveler in his town because everyone usually heads for Bacalar or Chetumal.



Yamaha YBR (non USA bike): I think it looks like a fun bike. very "scrambler like"





He asks me if I would like to ride with him to pick up some people (he is an independent taxi driver). &#8220;hell yea, sounds fun to me!&#8221;. I jump in and two older women get in the back seat. We drive out to some little village where there are grass huts and little subsistence farms. From the looks of things there was not much to subsist upon mainly due to the poor quality of the soil, lack of water and nuclear Sun. Many people have skinny goats or famished cows. Outside next to the grass huts are elevated water tanks &#8220;running water&#8221;. We drop off the old women near a sign advertising &#8220;LOCO RODEO&#8221;.


He takes me all the way to far, Southern edge of town to show me the pride of the city; a large fair ground. He explains all the different activities that go on here: cattle auctions, horse barrel racing, bull riding and music. On the ride back to town he tells me that he was born here in Morelos, moved to Washington then moved back home. His dream is to start a hamburger restaurant here in Morelos. He tells me that he has a wife but no children, he tells me that sometimes the women here can&#8217;t pay the taxi fare so they will give him blow jobs for payment, then he tells me that he wants to move to fucking Quebec to live with the stuck up Frenchies for some god awful reason.


I really enjoyed the taxi tour and talking to Oscar. He didn&#8217;t ask for any money, he just wanted to knock the dust off of his English skills. I&#8217;m glad he put forth the effort to show me around and be a friend to a complete stranger. He dropped me off at the Yamaha shop around 13:00; the tire/tube still had not arrived. I get Manuel to track down a longer chain; he runs off for about an hour and returns with this:


525 chain






The 525 is wider than the 520 that is on my bike but it is the length I need. 15:00 rolls around and the tire shows up in a delivery/ passenger van. I&#8217;m happy to see that it is a 110/80 18 Pirelli Scorpion. Should be exactly what I need. I get the tire on the rim then onto the bike. I&#8217;ve got this new chain now so I thread it on. Its too wide for my sprockets and contacts the case saver. I&#8217;ve already bought it so it goes in the bag as a spare. Pretty sure if I were to use it that my sprockets would get skanked.


Its at least 16:30 when I&#8217;m sitting at El Guapo&#8217;s desk. The garage door (front door of the shop) has been closed and the guys are ready to go home for the day. The total cost of: tire, tube, chain, shop fee (I did all the labor but they charged me for using their facility), delivery was 3,700 pesos. They even through in a FREE bottle of water!

In my opinion the day was pretty well shot at this point so I pulled the bike out of the shop, parked it in the alleyway, walked over to the town&#8217;s &#8220;mini super&#8221; to buy a grip of bananas, a giant bag of jalapeno Doritos and an flat orange soda drink then retired to my room for the rest of the day to read the book I had (thankfully) brought with me.








Next Time: putting the hammer down





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Just incase you haven't found a reason other than the oring gasket on the screw top lid for the tank.

I ran into this same problem wehn both of my front tanks where full on my bm sixfidy, seems the shitty electrical connectors will leak back through the plugs on the electric supply for the fuel pump and low level fuel light.
Leak happens around these pins:


A liberal douching of jb weld fixed my shit right up:


Makes a real freakin mess along with others constantly pointing a finger at the smelly gringo's bike that is going to blow to holy hell

Hope you got your sorted out...

I'm in for this one Swamp - thanks for sharing!

That YBR does look like it would be a fun around town bike. Stay safe.

awesome man, thanks for the info. looks like i need to start carrying regular JB Weld with me too. i usually just have JB Stick. .. but what happens if you ever need to unplug those cables !? :huh cut and splice method?

Awesome, man! What kind of camera are you using for the wide angle shots? I'm really enjoying your writing style too. Looking forward to more!

I'm looking for the RIDE report, not the ship bike and fix tired report......


























Donovan Rules.

Lol hey, dont start your shit, just let me tell the god damn story... there were a few miles between tire fails you cock sucker .










Clay rules

ummmm, am I the only person who smells Pulitzer?

Miles per tire ?

37.6784

Ohhh, this is so good, but in such a shitty way, that I'm starting to second guess my next trip.

Lets see:
D606s, check.
Spare tubes, uhhhh, well, sometimes one.
No hablo espanol, check.
Only one cylinder to fail, check.
Only carry one spare master link, even worse off than you dood.
At least I'm on an ancient no-tech bike, instead of a sophisticated BMW.
What else will go wrong next . . .

I wonder if there was a yeti leaning on the tire lever that destroyed the bead of that rear 606 when it was spooned on? :eek1
Maybe I should add a couple of chain links to my parts bag.

At least I have a few weeks to totally forget about all your insanity. I think I'll go have a couple of beers to help retire the brain cells storing the memories of all your breakdowns.


Sure makes for a good read though!

Lol! This report just got funny.

Man, you abused more rubbers per mile than a cheap hooker.

Maybe your fluids were leaking on your rubber instead of in it?

There are 2 things I know about Swamp's rides - Oats, 225.

You remove one of those elements, and the whole thing falls apart!

Still, though, you are an inspiration to vertically challenged me. Being 5'4", I can't fit anything with more than a ~32" seat height. It's good to see that those are all you ride!

Im just going to post a short video this time because its easier. If you guys want to read all about the border crossings or see any of the pictures just go HERE

so... basically....








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YES! The first swamp bathroom sink clothes washing!