YUCATAN PHOTOS    & The Saga as Told by Possum

Day 1           T-Shirt George showed up in Franklin, NC with his covered trailer and beemer inside. Was too small for both bikes, so we had to unload and put both bikes on my open trailer.           Was right at 11:30am when we pulled out for Tampa and the Yucatan Express. We were anxious to get to the warmth of the sunny south as snow was forecast for later on today. In fact, it began to spit some frozen precip as we were heading through Toccoa, GA.           Decided to call it a night in Brooksville, FL, about 45 miles north of Tampa figuring we would have plenty of time tomorrow to visit the BMW shop and still make the 1:00pm check in time at the boat.

Day 2           Up and at 'em around 8:00am and chasing breakfast.           George got directions to the BMW place but decided to head on down to the dock and check in early and then ride back to the beemer shop on his bike. Turns out it was good to be early and get ahead of the 3 hour line that awaited Gator, Foot and Cornbread. Boy were they pissed. We never did get to the bike shop.           Got the bikes papered and loaded on board around 4:00pm or so.  Bigfoot had managed to smuggle on two quarts of Windsor Canadian, so cocktail time and the party began immediately. Folks did not know how to take five TwoDogs in a holiday spirit, that is to say, very loud and boisterous and full of themselves. PARTY TIME !!!!!!!!!           Supper for me, being a cheapskate, was a ham&cheese sandwich at the café on board, but the other guys opted for the $15.00 buffet. I joined them for coffee and a purloined roll or two hidden away in my pockets for a midnight snack.           We adjourned to the outside deck for a smoke and were laughing, yelling and howling at the full moon. The other passengers stayed away from us. I guess they thought we were either dangerous or just plain crazy.           Took in the show in the loung. Don't even remember what it was, as I had seen them all before and they had run together.           We called it a night and repaired to our various cabins.  Gator had by this time managed to swipe the key to an unoccupied (free) cabin for himself so he would not have to listen to Cornbread snore anymore. Enterprising TwoDog behavior, if a little on the felonious side.           George had no more than hit the pillow when pieces of paint began to flake off the ceiling.  Talk about snoring !!!!!!!  I didn't find out till later, but George's idea of a good night's sleep was to have the TV (thank God there wasn't one in our cabin) blasting as loud as it would go all night long while he lay flat on his back trying to outdo it by rattling the windows and flaking paint off the walls. I told him at a later date that we had to get a divorce when we got back in the USA as we definitely were not compatible. There is nothing I hate worse than a radio or TV, while trying to sleep or camping out. Time for the MC Rally earplugs.                      I found out a few days later that if George gets good and drunk he doesn't snore, so from that point on I thought encouraging him to suck it down was a smart move.

Our arrival in Progreso, Yucatan, Mexico.     Cornbread's watching the welcoming dancers at the dock.

Smoke break on deck.

Suck 'em up George -- paralyze that snoring reflex.

Day3           Overslept this morning and missed breakfast, so I had to have the $1.50 cup of bad coffee in the Café with an equally bad(cold) $2.75 Danish pastry. I found out why they won't let you bring any food on board. It has nothing to do with Mexican customs, they just want you to have to buy their overpriced crap.           Just wasted time wandering around  the boat and reading most of the day. Met a nice Canadian couple that owned a house south of Cancun and a thin redheaded woman who lived on Cosumel with her husband and four German shepherds. COCKTAIL TIME -- one long continuous party.           More fun and games on the deck and the lounge. I don't think any of the passengers will soon forget the TwoDogs or the hell-raising trip south. I was really wondering whether or not they would let us back on the boat for the trip back home.            Day4           We docked around 9:00am in Progreso,Yucatan, Mexico. There was Mexican music and dancers on the dock to greet the ship. As far as I could tell, nobody got Lei-ed or anything.

Leaving Tampa, FL

Did the sun go down yet??

The beach and long pier at Progreso.

It took us until about 1:00pm to clear Mexican customs and to get our "steeekers" for the bikes and as soon as the hassle was over, we headed toward the nearest Cantina for dos cervesas and some of the local "pescado frito".           The waiter brought out a whole fish that looked to be about 6-8lbs and we allowed as to how we thought the whole thing would be a fine appetizer. He ran off to cook it, head and all. They just scale it, gut it, and dump it in hot oil. It was served with tortillas and a type of pickled onion that was tasty and went very well with the beer, and, of course, salsa and chips. When it was served we began to tear hunks off and roll them with some of the pickled onion in tortillas.  Super good!!!!!!           The bikes were drawing a lot of attention and comments from the locals and  this was just the beginning of what we were to experience here. Everywhere we went the Mexicans LOVED the Harleys and the loud pipes and rolled out the red carpet for us.           Beer, fish and salsa consumed and settling, we decided, since it was still early, to head on into Merida and check it out.           Bigfoot's turn to lead. First to a Pemex(the only gas stations in Mexico)for T-Shirt George to fill up, and then on down the 4 lane good road into Merida. We were just feeling our way along and the rest of the guys were experiencing          " topes " ( the ubiquitous speed bumps) for the first time. Bigfoot hooked a right down a promising looking road and up jumped the devil.  A tall topes knocked his kickstand spring off and we had to stop to try a quick fix with a bungee cord. While we were pulled over, a local guy, Nelio Ricalde, in a white Volkswagen (they were everywhere), stopped to offer his assistance. We all got to talking (he spoke pretty good English) and wound up by getting invited to his house for  believe it or not, hamburgers!!  It was about 2:00pm by this time and Nelio happened to mention that there was a bullfight this afternoon at the ring downtown.  Bigfoot immediately pounced on this as it was something he had always wanted to do and there was no time like the present -- we were here and so was it.

Nelio had groceries in his Volks, so we had to follow him to his house to dump them. We met his wife Nide and two cute as a button kids. Dumped the groceries, told them we would be back later and took off, Nelio riding bitch w/Possum, and headed  to the ring road (just like 285 around Atlanta only not as dangerous) and a Auto-Hotel-Whorehouse, where the bikes would be safe tonight.

Nelio & Nide's house in Dzytia, Yucatan, Mexico.

Talk nice to the Policia, Foot.

Loading up the hamburger meat.

----------Merida Police on their Harleys, bullfight patrol.----------

George decided to stay at the motel, as he had already seen a bullfight and did not like the blood and gore. We dumped our bags and said adios to George and beat a hasty trail downtown with Nelio telling Possum which way to go.

Cornbread's bike had blown a headgasket at the motel earlier, so he was riding bitch with Bigfoot as we took off from the bullring to a liquor store / department store to get some more goodies and some flowers for Nelio's wife so she would not be too pissed that we were late for the bar-b-que.           We picked up George on the way back to Nelio's house. There was a birthday party going on next door and naturally we had to go over and make our presence felt. Foot, Gator and George danced with the neighbor ladies and we all had a big time. Possum gave the kids there a big bag of Jolly Ranchers that brought out the smiles.

Nelio Jr. loves the Harleys.

Our host and hostess Nelio & Nide Ricalde.

Nathalia

Gators done it again, captured another heart.

Showing off some new dance steps.

Part of the party crowd.

Burger time - the charcoal here was real hardwood - not the glued together pine crap they sell in the States.

ClickBack across the street, Nelio cooked hamburgers for everyone and by the time we ate we were pretty well bushed. Bigfoot asked Nelio to join us on our week long ride around Yucatan (a very smart move) and he thought it was a superior idea, so plans were made to pick him up in the morning.           Never has a wrong turn and a lost kickstand spring turned out so good !!!  Thanks, Bigfoot. We will all be forever in your debt.           Back to the motel and bed. Turned out that the motel had dirty movies, mirrors on the ceiling and pictures of naked girls on the walls and me with nobody to look at but George.    Damn!!!! Damn!!!! Damn!!!!

T-Shirt George in his reflective vest. Every time I looked in my rear view mirror he spooked the shit outta me.

Damn, Damn, Damn, Damn, Damn, Damnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnittttt !!!!!!!

Dick wipes and all...

And this is only the FIRST DAY IN MEXICO ???????  If they get any better than this I won't be able to stand it !!!!!!!!!!!

Day 5           Waking up in Mexico... What a dream come true -- clear blue skies and 72 degrees, headed for the lower 80's. I wonder how much snow Lizzard has now? Wish she were here to enjoy this.                      First order of business is to pick up Nelio and get Cornbread's bike to the shop, after Gator gets his coffee, of course (a whole 'nother story).           With Nelio's help, a wrecker was called -- $20.00US for a 10 mile trip to the bike shop.  Would have cost $75.00 bucks at home.

Julio's old card -- front & back.

MASTER  HARLEY  MECANIC  AT  WORK

We left the bike in the good hands of Julio and took off for "Parque National Ria Celestun",  the place the Flamingos over-winter. 92 klicks west to the shores of the Gulf. The ride was broken by a "Cantina" stop in the town of Hunucma for a cervesa or three at just a nondescript side of the road bar where everybody in town seemed to be taking a morning beer break.           T-Shirt George thought it would be nice to buy a round of beers for the entire bar -- he became an instant hero, which brought on cheering and clapping and shit.  We were treated to so many different kinds of snacks, it was hard to keep up with them all, and we ate ALL of the. So much for what the guide book says. We were in Mexico and were bound to experience all it had to offer. Even with the threat of "Montezuma's Revenge".

Food-food-food-beer-beer-beer.

don't look now, but I think the guy with his arm on George's shoulder is "Montezuma".

Said our goodbyes and hit the road to the end of the road. Lots of tour boats, but no tourist or Flamingos. Oh, well! It was a nice ride anyway.           Back to Julio's to pick up Cbread's bike.

Sorry about the poor pix. Cornbread's bike was fixed. Julio pulled the jugs and installed new cylinder gaskets and new head gaskets on a rush basis and the total bill was only $65US -- and the job was done right!!!!

We left Julio's and went to one of Nelio's favorite bars, the "Nuevo Sina Loa Bar" and met a bartender with a beautiful smile, Nancy Arcos.  She blew us all away.  Had to take everybody's pix with her and Gator took her for a ride on the Gator-Mobile.

A beautiful smile and kind words--- a winning combination in any language.

I know Bigfoot is glad to see the bike fixed as Cornbread had been riding bitch with him all day today.

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The bikes were attracting quite a crowd of admirers and among them was Didier Medina, a lawyer from Valladolid, Yucatan, which just happened to be right directly on our way from Merida to Cancun, so we agreed to stop by the next day and visit him as we made our way over to the east coast of the Yucatan Peninsula.           We were hooting and hollering and generally making a nuisance of ourselves, when it occurred to us that Nelio fit in perfectly and had become one of us. ---- IDEA !!!! ---- Why not make it legal ??? INITIATION TIME !!!! ---- A new TwoDog was born... "Lazarillo" or "Guide Dog" or "Mexidog".  I think he had had enough beer and Canadian whiskey to answer to most anything by then.  This was the first initiation in Mexico. Calls for a drink boys. Bottoms up.

A beer soaked "Guide Dog" led us over to the "Boston Sports Bar" where we were going to meet Nide. It was a really uptown place, full of young folks from all over.           Possum had on a Chillicothe, Ohio t-shirt which attracted the attention of some folks from Ohio who were down studying Spanish. Some of them were playing pool and Gator figured he could embarrass them or take them for a few bucks, whichever worked out.           In between the hot wings and beer and pool, Nide showed up -- looking good, too. She ordered us a couple of pizzas --- fried chicken pizza ---- was GREAT!!!!!           I don't know who made the decision, but Nelio wound up driving the Volks home, while Nide rode with Possum. Boy did she ever love the ride. The faster I went--- the louder she squealed---the faster I went.  Good thing the motel was not too far away.           We parted company that night planning to pick up Nelio at his house in the morning and head to Chichen Itza and Cancun via Valladolid.

Day 6           Up and at 'em and off to pick up Nelio. Said our goodbyes to Nide and the kids and headed for --- say it ain't so --- Wendy's. You can't get away from the chain food stores.            Happily, Wendy's wasn't open yet, so we took off down the road to a local eatery that Nelio knew of. It was quite a ways, but worth every mile. Don't know what I ate, but it was great !!           The "libre", or free road was ok. No potholes or problems, except for the small towns that were  covered up with topes. We had to pick our crossing spots carefully -- Foot, with his Classic and me, with my Softail were dragging as we topped the topes.

.Saw lots of interesting houses, from nice middle class, to very poor, to straw huts and many large imposing churches.

Our arrival at Chichen Itza was less than spectacular, as we had to stop and pay the parking fare. Once we had found a shady spot near the police guards, we were told they would watch and make sure nothing happened to our bikes while we toured the ruins ---for $3US. When we came back, the cops were nowhere to be found. No real surprise.           Gator wasn't going in 'til Nelio found a wheel chair for  him. His legs

were hurting. I don't think he liked it much, but the ruins were not to be missed. If you haven't been, you need to put it on your "don't miss" list. It's awesome.

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The zipper club may be a little slow, but        DO NOT make the mistake of counting us out.

Next stop was Valladolid and a call to Didier. We lounged around the town square and the various vendors there, making a purchase or two. It was not long before Didier showed up and we were escorted by a cop on a Harley Sportster to a local cantina, " Bar La Joyita" . We were treated to beer and food by the owner of the tortilla factory. Had lots of snacks and some kind of beef soup that was hot as hell, (pepper hot), but very tasty. We hung around the bar until we were about shitfaced and it was too late to go anywhere else.           Didier got us rooms at a nice hotel downtown.           There was a sharp drop-off at the curb where we parked and when George took off, he dropped his BMW in it. Scratched it up some, popped the gas cap off, and got gas in his eyes and all over him. Bummer. Everything turned out OK though. He and his bike came out minus only a little paint and dignity. We parked the bikes for the night in back of Didier's Law Office in a walled and locked enclosure.                      He took us all back to the hotel in a borrowed pickup so we could cleanup before heading out for a night at a Mayan strip club.           The club was not the best of ideas, as the dancers and their boyfriends didn't like us very much. Don't really know why, as we were just being our usual loud, obnoxious, aggravating selves. We had a few beers and decided to call it a night before problems developed.

our POLICiA escort

Tortilla factory owner - would not let us pay for beer or food

hotel in Valladolid

Didier and Gator outside his law office

Great breakfast in Valladolid

boots dirty???

I am really sorry I didn't get a picture of us on the next morning  -- Didier came to pick us up at the hotel and this time he was in his older full sized Ford sedan -- if you can just imagine the six of us, and none of us are ("small"), plus our luggage, plus Didier, all piled into his car ---           When we arrived at his office there was so much weight in the car that the tires had been dragging on the wheel wells and were smoking like crazy. You ever seen 25 Mexicans pile out of small car?? -- now we know how they do it !!!!!           I'm not sure my neck will ever be the same, or Cornbreads lap, on which I was sitting !!

Local Streetwalkers

Sometime in the middle of the night George woke me up asking for Rolaids. He had burped up the soup or some of the other local delicacies and was in a world of hurt. Looking back, this seems to be the beginnings of the sneak attack of Montezuma, although if I remember correctly he ate a big breakfast this morning.

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