Head South

I've had numerous comments about a previous post concerning a possible motorcycle ride south, through Mexico and beyond. With one exception ( sweet Jennifer, my friend and fellow day dreamer), all have been against the idea. Perhaps this is what makes the idea so appealing. I'm funny that way.

The reasons against such a ride are numerous.

My Mexican friend Felipe Zapata points out that the Mexican highways are dangerous. Traffic laws are often ignored, and drivers are reckless. Accidents are frequent and often deadly.

My Honduran friend Laurie simply says "don't do it."

One person even asked "What will you do when it rains?" My response: "Get wet."

Of course, most people point out that robbers, narcos, and other bandits are the main concern. I have given that some thought. That's a danger here in the U.S., too, though.

I have questioned anyone I have encountered who has ever made the journey. My most enlightening conversation came from a Honduran cab driver who claimed to have made the trip from Tegucigalpa to New York City (as a truck driver) many times. I asked if I should worry about "banditos" in Mexico? He laughed. "No" he said. "Worry about la policia."

People who really know me often point out that their main concern is that I don't know enough Spanish. I'll admit my Spanish is pretty basic, to say the least, and I need to know a lot more to be able to function in a Spanish-speaking country. But I believe I know enough key phrases to get by on a motorcycle adventure:

"No tengo dinero." (I don't have any money.)
"Tengo hambre." (I'm hungry.)
"Donde esta la gasolinera?" (Where is the gas station?)
"Neccesito el medico." (I need a doctor)

And just in case, "No me muerte." (Don't kill me).

That ought to just about cover it.