A page for the ramblings of Zack Sherman, the lead wanderer at Expedition recovery. This blog will include my travelog as well as more concise and targeted written pieces. Reviews and how to's on topics of adventure motorcycle and overland travel will be forthcoming as well.
I slept in too late for the hotels breakfast so I
showered and chose to eat the other burger for breakfast as I packed. I talked
a little with both Cat and Montserrat while I made my final preparations to
My usual routine of loading the bike caused me to
be pouring sweat despite having just left the hotels AC. The sun was painfully
bright as it reflected off of every shiny surface on the bike back at me from the Concrete. In the short few moments it took me to be loaded and ready I was already drenched and nearly blinding myself with sweat pushed from my hair as I donned my helmet.
The ride through town was stop and go due to the traffic control layout. In the
heat it made me acutely aware of how little water I had been drinking and how
poor my diet has been over the last few weeks.
Being that it was already passed noon, I wanted
to make up time as best I could so I ran quick and only stopped for fuel and
water until right around four o'clock when I pulled into an Oxxo for a monster,
a noodle bowl, and a Greek yogurt as a late lunch.
While I was watching the bike sit alone in the
parking area in front of the building, a white Chevy pick-up began to back up
towards my bike. My bike was literally the only vehicle in the parking area and
surrounded by open spaces. I slammed down my drink just as the truck slammed
into my bike knocking it off the side stand and down on to its side across the
metal parking barrier. I got out the door spewing a stream of obscenities in my
wake to see the truck start to pull forward like it might leave.
The view from where I had been eating. The man on the phone is the one who hit my baby.
I ran up to the driver’s side window and slapped
it hard with the palm of my hand.
The driver was an older man, likely in his mid-fifties,
and he immediately began to speak to me in an apologetic tone even though I
didn't understand what he was saying. He put his hands up palms out and then
shut off the truck.
I was glad to have the presence of mind to take a
photo before I lifted the bike so I could prove for insurance what happened. I
then picked up the bike with a little help from the guy who hit me. I began to assess
the damage to the bike. I was still angry and was trying my best not to yell at
the guy. I wasn't so successful that I didn't speak to him in a direct and
angry manner but at least I didn't raise my voice or become aggressive.
In total it looked like a foot peg bolt was bent.
The forks were twisted. The front cowl/windshield frame was bent. Two well nuts
were destroyed. The middle cowl on the right side and the associated graphics
were damaged. Lastly the right hand Rally-Raid luggage rack was pushed in about
Once it was clear that insurance was coming and
that I would be riding the bike out that night, I began to fix what I could
after taking photos of the damaged components. I was able to get the windshield
remounted after bending the bracket back with my pliers and with the use of a
washer made from cutting a section of plastic coke bottle top and reaming a
center hole to fit the bolt for the lower right windshield bolt. I was able to
rotate the bent foot peg bolt to the best position I could and then tighten it
up enough to hold it together for the ride to Cancun.
While we waited I offered the man who had hit my
bike to buy him something to drink. He looked sheepish and said no thank you. I
choose to bridge the gap anyway and bought us each an orange-lemonade that is
popular in Mexico and a package of cookies. I came out of the shop and handed
him his drink and cookies. With the simple gesture he seemed to relax. I apologized
for being so angry and told him it was okay and that we all make mistakes.
While he had very little English and my Spanish is terrible, we were able to
talk a little while we waited.
The insurance inspector arrived at a little past
7 pm. Once there he began to go through the documents from both of us and to
ask questions about what happened. He looked over the bike and my photos and
took many notes. In the hour he was there he got all he needed and we worked
out that it was best for me to go to Cancun rather than to Merida where the
insurance shop was. I had housing in Cancun that would save me the cost of
several days’ hotels. He gave me paperwork for the companies preferred shop in
Cancun and we agreed that if I felt the bike was unsafe to ride I would
stop and call him for a tow-truck to take the bike.
With matters as resolved as they could be for the
moment, I geared up and rode for Cancun. My GPS was telling me it would be an
almost 4 hour ride and with the adrenaline of the bike being hit having burned
off so much energy I was a little worried. Once rolling though, those fears
were replaced by a hit of nerves as the fact that the clearly twisted forks
were giving the bike a very twitchy steering feel as well as a nasty vibration
through the bars and both foot pegs. I only stopped for fuel twice along the
route, once to fill up and once for just a little splash just outside of Cancun
to make sure I got to the house ok. I didn't want the bike full of fuel if I
had to leave it with the shop.
I took the bike to where the GPS was saying but
it didn't make any sense. Since Jessica had sent me the google location rather
than an address I didn't have much to go on. The only number google was showing
was 42 (Brian Adams would have been happy) and so I went to the house on the
block with that number. I rang the bell a few times and waited. Since I had
never met Jessica I had no idea who I was looking for. A women I would guess in
her mid to late 40s came out and looked confused. I asked for Jessica and she
went back inside. A lot of laughter came from the house and out came a girl
likely around 16-19 who looked utterly perplexed. I tentatively asked if she
was Jessica and she said yes but looked no less confused. I than asked her by
Jessica's full name and she exhaled and said no before rushing back in the
I began to load up on the bike and consult the
GPS information when a whole group of people spilled out of the house and into
the gated courtyard on the other side of the locked metal fence. It seemed to
be the end of some sort of party and people coming out began to ask me what I
was looking for. In Spanglish we were able to communicate and they offered me Wi-Fi
to get a hold of Jessica. I handed over my phone so they could connect it and
we chatted a bit about derby and my trip. They seemed impressed once they
realized I had ridden from Alaska. They helped me to contact Jessica who was in
an apartment building on the end of the block.
It was her way of
explaining that my motorcycle would be staying in her living room for security.
Mercifully she was on the first floor and there was enough room on the foot
path to maneuver the CB into the house, only needing to remove the bags to get
it through the door by picking up the back end and shifting it. The bike parked
easy enough, though it took up about half of the usable space in the room.
Jessica explained that she had to be to work in
just a few hours and would be going to sleep. She showed me to her room at the
back of the apartment and told me it would be mine for the stay. As I unloaded
she told me that I would be teaching a practice at 8:30 in the morning, an
early start after such a long day and it already being past midnight. I made
quick preparations for bed and took up Jessica's offer of Bluetooth tethering
to her phone for data so I could update folks that I was alright. I called it a
night and closed my eyes feeling the heat and humidity taking their toll as I
sweated profusely laying uncovered atop the sheets.
It is with a heavy heart that I say good bye to my best
friend, and my director of moral support.
Woden was an amazing dog who came into my life and
brightened every day of it. He believed with all his heart that he was a person
too and just couldn’t figure out why he didn’t get all the same privileges that
rest of the people got.
He entered this world on February 9th of 2012 and
came home to live me with me in Alaska on April 14th of 2012.
His first day in Alaska was spent with me on the gun range
where he seemed drawn to the smell of all the instructors, despite a lot of
very eager police recruits wanting to see him.
He started out as the only dog of the house but came to
share the space with his begrudging mentor Mop, the old man of the house who
made sure to show Woden who was boss.
Woden ended up at his peak weighing the same 185 pounds as
his father, Zack Sherman, and was always willing to play and wrestle. Like his dad, he had a knack for jujitsu and
was great at avoid…
Leon Mexico Zero kilometers ridden. Coming back to Leon from Portland left me feeling out of
sorts. The weekend had been incredible, but the passionate kissing had broken
past a barrier I had kept in place for many years. While I was a police officer I felt a need to
retain some amount of a moral high ground and thus had stowed away my prior
instances of living in polyamory and being promiscuous. That was naive of me, but it was my reality
nonetheless. While there had been some involvement in open relationships since
me departure from policing, this was my first straying from the very serious
and committed relationship I am in with Cat. In addition, it felt like I had
done wrong by Montserrat as well. Even
though she had been in a relationship when I left, the feelings were clearly
there and I felt like I had committed a large betrayal to Cat and a small one
to Montserrat even though we were not together. One of the first things I did on
returning was to talk to Montserrat about the …
Hopkins, Belize – The Funky Dodo
Zero kilometers ridden.
While Aaron and I had both planned
to move on today, a rest in this little hippie oasis that was The Funky Dodo
seemed to be the answer we both needed.
Ed must have thought so too as he moved from his hostel up the road to
join us at the Dodo.
It had been nice to sleep in a bit
and I was looking forward to a shower. As I joined the land of the living I
asked Christine how the showers were.
“Great, nice and warm” was her
She had apparently gotten the first
batch of water from the sun warmed tank.
I got the freezing cold water being dropped from the shower head as it
was pumped from the well. It wasn’t my first cold shower of the trip by any
means but it left me lots to rib Christine about as we walked up the street to
get a breakfast of liquid yogurt from the shop.
Once Ed got all checked in it was
time for a walk to the beach at the center of town. We took some photos before wander…