Mike Huber

Baja in the Slow Lane

For a motorcyclist one of the easiest and most rewarding trips a rider can undertake is Baja, Mexico. It’s a 1-day drive to the Mexican border from most of the Southwestern United States. I have been fortunate enough to spend many months in Baja over the past four years, but always mixed the experience in with working, so I was never able to fully detach and enjoy it. For my fourth time riding Baja this had to change. I wanted to allow myself to embrace this epic part of Mexico at a slower pace and savor each day. It’s Baja. This is the time and place where you are meant to slow down and relax.

The week prior to my departure a friend gifted me this giant stuffed sloth for my birthday. I promptly named him Slothykins, which seemed to fit since I already traveled with a little stuffed lamb named Lambykins. Two days prior to departing for Baja while packing my gear I noticed the sloth in the corner of the equipment room staring aimlessly at the wall.

At that moment an idea hit me. Now usually (always) my ideas are a bit… off and this one would prove no different. My thought was to use my Rok Straps to secure the giant sloth on the passenger seat of my BMW GS1200 and ride the 3,000-mile roundtrip from Sedona to Todos Santos. What better way to embrace the slow lane of Baja life then with Slothykins as my passenger!

As we slowly departed Sedona it wasn’t long before I noticed something moving around in my rearview mirror. I quickly pulled over and saw everything was secure and started off again. I was in 3^rd gear and again saw a flickering of movement. Well, it turns out it was Slothykins. If I went above 50mph his arm would begin flapping in the wind and it gave the perception he was waving at everyone. The whole scene was hilarious. Other vehicles along the road would slow down, scratch their heads or wave back to Slothykins as we happily motored along desert backroads on our way to Mexico.

One thing I didn’t factor into this whole scheme was the attention I would receive once crossing the border into Mexico. This usually is a nonevent; however, with Slothykins I was promptly ushered into the “This guy definitely requires a further search” lane, to include an over friendly German Shepard which did a thorough job of sniffing Slothykins and the rest of my gear. It took a few minutes of the dog jumping all over the BMW before the Mexican Immigration Agents cleared me to proceed. Welcome to Mexico, Slothykins!

After the border dogs provide you with their approval to enter Mexico your senses are instantly overwhelmed with the sights and smells of fresh food, while your mind awakens to the new obstacles in the road to include but not limited to horses, donkeys, cows, potholes, and large trucks along narrow roads with no shoulder. This sensory awakening can make you become pretty hungry. Finding some street tacos and a strawberry Fanta from one of the many vendors you pass by is a rather easy task in Mexico. While sitting on the sidewalk I begin enjoying one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever had. Meanwhile, I look over to see my motorcycle parked with Slothykins as a sentry keeping a watchful eye on the new surroundings. THIS is life at its finest in the slow lane of Baja, Mexico!

Baja is a thin peninsula with only four main highways, so when you meet fellow travelers along your journey it is more than likely you will bump into them again at some point. The people of Baja have very kind hearts, so running into them repeatedly is a great way to build relationships along this journey. It didn’t take long for me to inherit the nickname “The Sloth Guy.” Which I found comical since I am a rather fast rider (ask any Massachusetts State Trooper).

For the next two weeks with Slothykins as my tent mate and passenger we happily camped on some of the world’s most beautiful beaches while riding almost the entire length of Baja to a turnaround point on Playa Pescadero, which was just south of Todo Santos. I never tired of hearing “Hey Sloth Guy come over for a beer” or “Sloth Guy want to join us for dinner?” The hospitality is incredible in Baja, more so for motorcyclists, and as I learned, even more so for motorcyclists with a giant sloth as a passenger.

With the relaxing two weeks nearing an end there was an outstanding question that I had to answer. What should become of Slothykins? I couldn’t keep him as he was much too large, and I already had the immense responsibility of Lambykins, who is quite the handful. An idea hit me on the final night in Kiki’s Camp in San Felipe. Why not donate Slothykins to an orphanage. After some time on Google and Google Translate, I happened to find the manager of a local orphanage called Sonshine Hacienda who lived just a few blocks from where I was camping. I called him and he was an ex pat who had been living in Baja managing the orphanage for several years. I promptly drove over, met him, and donated Slothykins to his new home to where he would become a big hit and make many new friends. On the return ride to Arizona the bike felt a bit lighter without my buddy on the back waving happily at passersby. While crossing back into the United States I smiled to the border agent while reflecting on the ride, the people, and the beautiful experiences over the past two weeks of traveling through Baja, Mexico.

Here’s a link to the Sonshine Hacienda.

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Roaming in Romania: Part II – The Transalpina Highway

We awoke in Moto Camp, located in Sibiu, just before sunrise. Moto Camp is probably the best base camp we’ve ever had and the best one anybody could ask for when staying near the Transylvanian mountain passes. These mountains are home to several of the world’s most sought-after motorcycle roads.

We researched the weather while drinking a strong cup of Romanian coffee. The day looked promising and the weather gave us a green light for riding. The buzz from riding the Transfagarasan Highway the day before was still with us and we both were anxious to see how the Transalpina Highway would compare.

The Transalpina Highway was two hours away from our base camp. We searched the least traveled roads to ride, which provided entertainment as we passed through tiny villages untouched by time. Horse-pulled carts rolled next to us and the occasional sheep crossings reminded us we were in Romania. These sites are common to Romanians, but for us it was like stepping into the early 1900s. Between the scenery and our motorcycle engines humming it was a perfect mesh of culture and time that fit nicely.

As we continued to ride, the small towns gave way to a remote pine forest speckled with beech trees shedding their leaves. As we sped by, we rustled the leaves to create mini sparkling whirlwinds in the morning sunlight while accelerating into the sweeping corners of this magical road. After 30 minutes we stopped along a dam with food and souvenir kiosks to grab a snack and drink. While sitting there we noticed about 40 Porsches stop and take the entire length of the dam. “Porsche Club of Romania” was stickered on their cars. Not wanting to be stuck behind any of the traffic we ate with a purpose and tackled the second portion of this road.

Once we left the dam, the sweeping corners continued with steeper gradients, angled such that we had to lean into them and keep our speed up while doing trig calcs on the fly to avoid falling. We continued gaining elevation when suddenly a bolt blew by me on the left, then another, and another. It was the Romanian Porsche Club; it seems they wrapped up their snacks at the same pace we had. As they roared past like orcas going for the kill (even on blind corners) I thought: “Hey, I still have Boston blood; I can be an apex predator, too!” We rode with them in formation as we roared past numerous cars on their Sunday drive.

Having been engrossed with the Porsches and the road (and our minds working geometry problems in the corners), we hadn’t noticed how the terrain had changed yet again. It went from pine forests to open alpine meadows with volcanic lakes. We continued to ride along these alpine meadows as heavy fog moved in. We were at just over 5,200 feet, but we felt we were on top of the world. As we adjusted to the new terrain the fog banks closed upon us and our visibility dropped to almost zero. Then, just as quickly as the fog appeared, it retreated. When this happened, the veil lifted to give us a snapshot of the road ahead before it dropped again.

Once hitting Ranca, our turnaround point, the fog rolled in so heavily that even the Porsches turned around. As we sat along a wall to fully absorb the view, we could hear the Porsche engines roaring in the distance as they continued down the pass, popping in and out of the fog. With the fog in no hurry to leave, we thought it was time to return to Sibui and mark another wonderous day of riding one of the best motorcycle roads in the Romanian mountains: The Transalpina Highway.

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Roaming in Romania: Part 1 – The Transfagarasan Highway

Good buddy and fellow U.S. Army former paratrooper Mike Huber, whom I met a few years ago on one of the Baja rides, is joining the ExNotes team as a regular contributor.

You’ll be seeing more of Mike’s work here on the ExNotes blog. Mike, over to you and welcome aboard!

Joe

Throughout my adult life (although, many will argue I have yet to reach mature adulthood) one of my greatest passions is motorcycling. Like many of you, I seek out the most beautiful and exciting roads to experience on two wheels. Whenever possible I try to achieve this on a global level and not limit this quest to just my state, or even my country. This isn’t always the easiest objective to reach. Many roads that are the pinnacle of any rider’s dreams are usually quite far off the beaten path. This can seem like a deterrent to many, but my mindset is to use the distance to reach these places only adds more depth to the adventure and in doing so adds not only miles, but new friends and stories to each road.

Transfagarasan Highway

If you perform a Google search on “best motorcycle roads on Earth” or any similar phrase, what will appear before you in the top images will be a photo of the Transfagarasan Highway. This mind-blowing highway is nestled deep in the Transylvania Mountains of Romania, and for us it was a four-day ride from Krakow, Poland. This is where my girlfriend Bobbie and I rented our Honda motorcycles (she had a CBX500 and I had the CB600F).

We began the day waking up in a yurt at an amazing moto camp in Sibiu, Romania that is hosted by Doru Dobrota. Doru has been running this camp out of his family’s old mountain cabin for years and over that time has meticulously grown the camp to a perfect launching point to the many beautifully challenging roads of Romania. Once we finished breakfast, confirmed the weather would cooperate with us, performed routine maintenance checks on the bikes, and a had chat with some other riders staying at the camp, we were ready to set out for one of the greatest days possible on a motorcycle.

It was a two-hour ride through some remote Romanian villages that we had to remain alert for deer, cattle, horses, and the usual obstacles to dodge around as we traveled from Sibiu to the base of the mountain pass where the roads started really becoming fun. Once the switchbacks began in the lower parts of the pine forests, we quickly twisted the throttle and leaned into the perfectly paved corners as we begin to ascend the highway to where you eventually are at the bottom of what would be like in skiing terms a giant bowl. Looking up I am instantly in awe of what looks like a gigantic matchbox car racetrack thrown recklessly together by a 6-year-old.

After regaining our emotions of what lies before us, we jump on the Hondas and hit the throttles hard. The road has nonstop switchbacks but since its so open it allows you the ability to constantly overtake any vehicle in front of you easily. This enables us to really lean in deep to each corner pushing the red line of these little Hondas, as well as challenging our own riding abilities. We continue to traverse the switchbacks for what seemed like forever and just as we summit the pass, we stop for a quick breather at a waterfall to absorb what we have just completed and imagine what was ahead of us.

We now begin our decent down the south side of the pass. The southern side is less dramatic but nonetheless has spectacular views for miles until we are well below the tree line and back into another tight pine forest with switchbacks. This seemed less dramatic until out of the corner of my left eye I spotted something crawling onto the road. At this point the road has some sand on it, so we were only traveling at about 25 miles per hour. My first thought was a deer, but when I was able to decipher what it was, I had to stop and shake my head. It was a grizzly bear eating a bagel. Now THAT is worth stopping for a photo of. As I am taking the picture, I hear a loud shout through my headset “Go! Go! Go!”

I looked in front of me and there were three more grizzlies. What was so concerning at this point was they consisted of a mother bear and two cubs, fully blocking the road. So, I have one next to me eating a bagel and three in front of me. I hang my head down and reply over the headset with my usual response to when I am in a bad situation “So this is how it ends…” We sat extremely still on the bikes for a few minutes until the bears dispersed in front of us, retreating into the thick pine forest.

As the sunlight retreated into the dense forests, we still were admiring the beauty of the road and what Romania had shined upon us this day. After a fresh fish dinner and the semi comfort of a hostel bed we were able to fully absorb and appreciate the experience for having ridden one of the greatest roads on Earth: The Tranfagarasan Highway.

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We stayed at Motocamp in Romania.