6/2/22 San Diego – Canon de Guadalupe

The first day of the ride was a blur. It was reminiscent of the last 3 years for me. I used to be diligent, on time, organized and driven – no longer. Now, I feel distracted most days. I think it is because of the internal discontent I have felt since childhood. As an adult I am simply more aware of that discontent. I remember having nightmares full of anxiety at the age of 5. I think that the same pulsating ball of angst I had at times as a child, is present with me today. Since separating with my ex-fiancé I have been forced to look inwards. I can no longer lean into my ego as a means to overcoming my insecurities as a person. I have to face myself. Sometimes I look into the mirror in the mornings and think to myself: “I am my own worst enemy.”

I have realized that I have been sabotaging my life all along. I have an inner voice that has told me I was never good enough, not worthy. That is why I never tried out for the men’s basketball team in high school, even though I was skilled, tall, and the coach liked me. That same critical voice is also what told me that whatever I wrote in graduate school was never that good, though my professors often sung my praises. My work was always sub-par in my mind. And, for me the hardest thing to accept is that the ever-present negative voice in my mind (my ego, I guess) told me I was not worthy of being a husband to my ex. So, I didn’t push. I didn’t show up for her and myself. I sabotaged the most important relationship in my life.

I am still unpacking why I have that voice in my mind. To be honest, I am on this motorcycle ride, so I can be with myself. So, I can avoid the distractions of a daily patterned life. I sought this experience out so that I could challenge my mind, my body, and my character. Life is short. It is precious. And it is very easy to live a life of darkness. In other words, I believe life is sharp – like a knife. Whichever way one chooses to wield that knife is the way in which one will cut through existence. Do I choose love, kindness, forgiveness, empathy, and acceptance? Or shall I follow the path of judgment, doubt, anger, fear, and sadness? 

This ride is about wielding my life towards one of acceptance and celebration, love. I want to celebrate the beauty of human life. And, as I write this post reflecting on the past few first days I am amazed at what has happened to me.

Day one, as I mentioned above, was a blur. I crossed the border into Tecate where I met kind border crossing guards and obtained insurance for my motorcycle from a man named Poncho. Poncho was nice, gregarious, and prompt. So, I left Tecate for Cañon de Guadelupe hot springs at a decent hour and insured. I had read that the hot springs were beautifully remote, and could only be accessed by driving 30 miles down a desolate desert dirt road. It sounded like a perfect place to begin the ride. I arrived at the hot springs just as night was descending upon the Mojave Desert. The ride in was challenging. My motorcycle’s computer read 99 degrees. I was sweating like crazy. I was thirsty and tired. The gate was closed to the hot springs. I hadn’t called to obtain a reservation. I had figured they’d be open and wouldn’t be full.

My mind started racing. I was alone in the Mojave Desert of Baja. A lot of people have told me how dangerous Mexico is. “People will rob you for your bike!” “The drug cartels do not value life!” “Don’t go on this ride, it is not safe!” All of the negative things people had told me before I left were racing through my mind. I was starting to get scared. I started looking for a place to camp. But I didn’t have cell service. So, I started to drive back from the direction I came, because my phone surprisingly worked lower down in the valley. Once my phone started working again I realized that the roads were the only sturdy ground – everything around was sand. And sand is not good for motorcycles. If I pulled off the road I might not have been able to get back to the road. Rather than risk being trapped in sand, I kept riding towards the only non-sandy place I saw when I came in: a rancho (farm).

I got back to the rancho well into the night, and after crashing a few times in the sandy road. I could see the stars by then. It was still really hot and I was still sweating like a mad man. I got to the entrance of the farm and could see three men drinking beer. I thought to myself: “What and the hell am I doing? This farm is in the middle of nowhere and they are drinking beer… But, what other option do I have?” I whistled to them and got their attention. I asked them if I could buy a water, and they obliged. We spoke about what I was doing and why I was out there. I gauged that they seemed kind. They didn’t charge me for the water. So, I asked if I could camp on their land. They said they had to speak to their boss about it… (I wondered who the “boss” was. Was he/she apart of a cartel?) After a few minutes one of the men came back and said I was permitted to camp on their land. They then unlocked the gate and let me in. Once inside, they locked the gate behind me and told me they were off to bed.

I set up my tent and laid down. I smelled like sweat. I was truly exhausted. I was nervous, very nervous. I didn’t know these men. I didn’t know the farm, though it looked tidy and lush. What was going to happen? I was locked inside their property and there wasn’t another person for probably 50 square miles. (I am not exaggerating that distance.) Were they going to come in the middle of the night and kill me? Would they steal everything of mine? Was I worth killing for the $10,000 motorcycle I have?

Morning came. I had slept only 3 hours or less. But, I was alive and it seemed like the men I had met were kind. My intuition was correct. I had wielded my life in the direction I wanted to: acceptance. I had made the best decisions I could and I accepted the outcome. I had faced the fear of the unknown. After packing up my things one of the men opened the gate to the property and I was off.

The ride back towards civilization and Valle de Guadalupe was relieving. I promised myself that I would not make a similar mistake again. I will confirm availability at remote locations moving forward.

Yet, I am grateful for the way my first day unfolded. It was hard and very tiring; however, I believe it will be indicative of what this experience will be and how I want it to be. I believe it will be full of kindness, chance meetings, connection, difficulties, and beauty. Here is to a trip of a lifetime!