Moto Explore Mexico Tour—Day 2, Rancho Viejo To Oaxaca City

Wow, I'm tired. Exhausted, and it's hard to put a finger on why. We had an easy morning start, with a simple breakfast of egg, beans, and salsa, with orange juice squeezed from trees right on site. Yummy! We were introduced to our bikes, which we promptly loaded with gear (no need to carry much, as a support truck was on hand to carry most goodies). The BMW R1200GS assigned to me looked so shiny and new, I felt I should apologize to it in advance for scuffing the wax.

The first half of the day brought us through small villages and towns along clean, well-paved back roads. Slivers of local life revealed themselves as we glided by; pickup trucks carrying cattle and other livestock lumbered along as families sold fruit from under makeshift tents made of old billboard signs. The landscape was arid and rocky, dotted with cactus offering the only green against parched earth tones.

Even partway into the ride, I was shaking off fatigue. The roads were not technical, just lazy twists on fresh tarmac. Normally I would say the ride was a three out of 10 in terms of difficulty. Once I started analyzing my weariness, I realized my focus and concentration were really spiking. There are lots of small obstacles that present themselves on a Mexican highway. Sandy patches, stealthy speed bumps, wild animals, and the like are ever-present and keep you on your guard. All things we look for in our home countries but not often in such abundance. The riding was easy, but the constant, heightened vigilance was wearing me out.

We stopped for a break in a village called Santo Domingo Yanhuitláan, northeast of Oaxaca, to explore a Catholic church built in the 16th century. The architecture was an incredible mix of carved wood and stone, the walls stretching high to reveal gilded portraits of saints and an ornate vaulted ceiling. I do not know my place in religion or spirituality, but I cannot deny the commanding presence and beauty of this holy structure.

Back on the bikes, the pace quickened as we climbed a thread of twisties toward the mountains. I was surprised to see pine trees, the views reminiscent of the Angeles Crest Highway in Southern California. My senses peaked as I chased the lead rider, scanning for signs of slippery grit being flung from his tires as he screamed through turns. The roads looked clear and I happily gave pursuit. We crested and descended, the large sprawling city of Oaxaca stretching out below. We quickly found ourselves in the bustle of traffic and commerce, wending our way through narrow streets toward the city center. We arrived at our hotel, took a few moments to shower and change, then headed out to explore the area.

Oaxaca is a very old city, with historical evidence of human settlement dating thousands of years. Equally beautiful are its buildings made of wood, iron, and carefully shaped green volcanic stone. I was surprised to see so many European tourists; I somehow thought my group would have one of the few token gringos (me). We entered the town square, where hundreds of people shopped and enjoyed the sunny afternoon. At a restaurant with a view of the square and sat, my guides eagerly ordering a smorgasbord of local delights for me to sample. At the top of the list was mescal, a cousin to tequila with a similar punch! It was served with orange slices and a selection of flavored salts, each containing dried, ground worms (trust me, they were delicious). We also tried several types of mole sauce, the ancient recipes originating right in Oaxaca.

After dinner, I left the group and explored the city on my own. The atmosphere was relaxed and festive, the sounds of music echoing through the stone streets. By 8 p.m., the activity was really starting to ramp up, but I was exhausted and needed sleep. I fumbled down a few streets and found the hotel, face-planting onto the bed.

Tomorrow I’m told we will head to the coast by some epic twisty roads. I look forward to seeing my old friend, the Pacific Ocean. Until then, sleep.