From the city of angels to the land of fire. Danny Beer, gringo on tour

From the city of angels to the land of fire. Danny Beer, gringo on tour
Danny Beer

Cycling around the world?Has anyone done it?Tour diaries from Danny Beer, an Australian guy, who found his passion in exploring the cities by bike and made his dreams come true. His daily adventures are shared on the pages of four different books.This book is about Latin America, South Tierre del Fuego, Panama, Costa Rica, Mexico, Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Equador, Colombia.20,359 km (12,650 miles) over 1 year from August 1, 2007 to August 1, 2008

From the city of angels to the land of fire

Danny Beer, gringo on tour

Danny Beer

© Danny Beer, 2020

ISBN 978-5-0051-4068-5

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Welcome to America.: Onwards to la la land

Wednesday August 1, 2007

Welcome to America. This isn’t so much a beginning as a continuation of sorts. After five and a half months of cycling around Europe it is time to head to the Americas. You sit awaiting your final flight to LA. From there you’ll head south. That is about all the planning you’ve done. A guidebook sits somewhere in your luggage. No visas are planned. No research. No idea. Just take it as it comes.

First impressions of America are interesting. A round of applause is given when the pilot touches down on the runway. You’ve never seen that before. Security has been quite high all day. If Vienna was bad enough, New York is even worse. The initial immigration guy was very laid back but apart from him it is all very strict. Especially for domestic flights for some reason.

The bike is a bit of a hassle getting about. After trampling all over JFK the box is looking a little worse for wear. But after today you won’t have to worry about it anymore.

Have fun in LA whatever you work out.

From laxatives south.: Riding SoCal

Thursday August 2, 2007, 191 km (119 miles) – Total so far: 191 km (119 miles)

Welcome to Laxatives airport. You pull the bike out of the box. A close inspection of the front tire reveals the axle is missing. You find the axle but the nut on the end is gone. It is not to be found. You put the bike together regardless. It goes alright just so long as you don’t lift up the front. The front panniers cannot be attached so everything must go on the back.

You head south out of the airport but are presented with a freeway and a big sign saying pedestrians and cyclists prohibited. You go back. You try to figure out the buses but to no avail. Eventually you make your way out northwards. But shouldn’t you be heading south?

You skirt the airport perimeter. North, then east, then southwards. And wait. It’s the sea. Already? You ride the bike, timidly at first and then with greater confidence, getting to speeds inexcess of thirty km. Are you north or south of LA though? Well, you’ll soon find out.

Pancakes at four AM releves that hole in your stomach. You get going again. There are a few people out and about. A couple joggers and other cyclists out doing their thing. Soon it is light. Not long after eight, in Long beach, you find a bike shop and get a new front axle.

It is good cycling in SoCal (southern California). Cycle paths are often available making traffic an infrequent burden. You pass through an army base and have to show your ID. It gets late and the sun cools. Time to find a campsite. You find one. An expensive one. But it is booked out. You are directed seven miles further south to another campsite. When you get there a sign says ‘no vacancy’. You ask anyway and success. Hikers and campers can stay and for a considerably less amount of money. Three dollars.

To imperial beach.: But where can you camp???

Friday August 3, 2007, 91 km (57 miles) – Total so far: 282 km (175 miles)

Time to leave camp. Last night you met up with a guy, Dallas, who then proceeded to bum money off you whenever he could. A few beers last night, a burger this morning. He was quite eager to take your bag off your hands when you mentioned throwing it away. He should be buying you beers and the burger!

You did sleep well. And well you should after having being awake for three days. You trudge on south on what is first the Pacific Coast Highway and then some other major road heading south-eastwards. You veer back west and find a river blocking your path. The problem is not with finding a bridge but finding a bridge to cycle over. You find a bridge and get on the foot path section rather than the road.

You rim the outskirts of San Diego. You ask another cyclist “Is this the way to Mexico?” and are redirected back towards the harbour to catch a ferry to the island, which is actually a peninsula. There is a campsite on this island but when you get there they only accept ‘self contained vehicles’. So you keep moving.

You ask someone else and are given a couple ‘hot tips’ on where to camp illegally. Apparently the rangers, but not the power kind, and the police often raid these camps so it is important to pack up and go come dawn.

Welcome to Mexico.: And back into America again

Saturday August 4, 2007, 99 km (62 miles) – Total so far: 381 km (237 miles)

Neither the rangers nor police disturb your sleep. Nor any vagabonds for that matter. After breakfast you head west to the border. Then south. Then east. Then north. And so on until after a way too long detour you find the Mexican border, and Tijuana. And cross over. No one stamps you out of America and no one stamps you into Mexico. Apparently this is important if you are to continue further south. So you head back to America to sort out these formalities. But look at the queue. Wow. That’s huge. Maybe cross elsewhere, eh? Let’s go east then and cross at Tecate.

Along the canal is at first the best way to go. But it isn’t so good and there is a road to take. So you take the road. Mexico is hot and dusty. It is built up for a good many km. And lots of hills too. You ask for directions. Tecate is further up and not too far either. Except it is a lot further.

You leave all buildings behind and enter the freeway. You see a cop car but they aren’t interested in you. There is a toll. You approach and are turned away. “Yes but how do I get to Tecate?” You try to convey. They aren’t interested in your problems, only that you will not cross this toll. So you head back down on the wrong side of the freeway and back towards Tijuana.

Suddenly two local cyclists appear from behind. One speaks great English. They are going to Tecate too when they spotted you. They are amazed at the toll situation. You accompany them back where there shouldn’t be any problems.

At the toll the same asshole guard crosses your path. He blocks your friend from continuing on. He is as stubborn not to let you pass as your friend is to pass. They argue in Spanish and your friend tries to get past. The other friend says to you ‘go’, and you do. The guard doesn’t bother about you so you keep on riding. Like a second wind you keep moving forward, occasionally looking back and always ready to be stopped by security. You feel bad about them being left behind after helping you get past but there’s no point in all three of you being up the proverbial shite creek paddleless.

You never do see your friends again. It is still quite a way to go to Tecate with lots of mountains to climb. You make it into town and to the border crossing. You spend twenty minutes in queue with the cars until someone tells you to just go to the front. Which you do. You sort everything out at immigration, first with America and then with Mexico. Job accomplished it is time to find a place to sleep. And then some food.

After all that some normality would be nice. So you eat dinner in a Chinese restaurant. Just like home.

To Mexicali: Some great scenery

Sunday August 5, 2007, 136 km (85 miles) – Total so far: 517 km (321 miles)

It sure is great to sleep in a bed again. Not to mention having a shower after going the best part of a week without. The used condom in the trashcan is a cause for worry though. You follow the freeway east until a sign proves the illegality of this. You get onto the highway.

You spend a lot of time heading uphill. And then, oh yes, downhill. 7 km straight downhill with spectacular scenery of rock covered mountains all around. Police had sectioned off a lane where a truck had overturned on a sharp corner. Nearby and further down the road are empty microwave boxes were people had pilfered the truck’s cargo.

You get to the bottom and it’s straight on through to Mexicali. But by now the wind picks up and it isn’t the tail kind. It is after dusk by the time you make it into town. You find a motel. It seems that motels here are for five hours only. You pay for the entire night but will you get woken in the middle of the night?

You pick up some supplies from the supermarket. On the way back a dog jumps up from behind its fence barking. Its owner is nearby. He laughs. You laugh too in a this-is-not-at-all-funny kind of way. You both continue in this fashion. The man laughing at your fright and you fake laughing at the cunt.

Mexicali sure aint tiny. There must be stuff to do here. But after today all you need to do is rest.

San Louis Rio Colorado.: Hot, hot, hot

Monday August 6, 2007, 80 km (50 miles) – Total so far: 597 km (371 miles)

No one comes banging on the door in the middle of the night, at least not loud enough to wake you. There are a couple staffs on duty but they don’t seem to notice you leaving. So you just go. It is late by the time you really get going. The temperature is already forty degrees out. The road is flat and the shoulder is wide. You don’t really leave Mexicali until twenty km later and in no time after that you are entering San Louis Rio Colorado.

It is only four o’clock and still very hot out. The town is similar to the previous couple you stayed in, hot and dusty, but nice all the same. You find a place to stay and go for a wander about town. There are some mariachis in town, wandering up and down the streets. You follow for a little while but nothing much is happening.

Tomorrow will see you crossing what is dubbed Mexico’s mini sahara. Two hundred km to the next town of any size. Flat and hot. So the plan is to leave early evening when the weather cools down and ride all night. You will need to take a lot of food and water. It’s going to be a long ride. Oh, and watch out for banditos.

To Sonoyta.: Crossing the mini Sahara

Wednesday August 8, 2007, 210 km (130 miles) – Total so far: 807 km (501 miles)