First Corner - SW (Tijuana River Valley Park) and an Immigration Bust

...and the first corner is done, not without a bit of drama.

This was the shortest leg of the trip and, at a couple of hours, the easiest, flying down the I-5 speedway (non-rush hour), where 80 MPH is reserved for the slow lane and trucks. We took 805 south to San Ysidore Blvd., the last exit before the US/Mexico border and exited to Monument Road, a narrow winding slab of rough pavement bordered by horse properties and brilliant purple Jacarandas. The hills to the south abut to Mexico, dry, parched weeds and tan sand.

We traveled as far as we could go on the road and ended at the Border Field State Park where only horses, bicycles and hikers were allowed. We were at the furthest point we could travel by motorcycle at the southwest corner of the contiguous US. In the dirt parking lot, a lone school bus rested, a lone hippie listening to National Public Radio. I suggested to Melissa that we should walk the two miles to the beach but she was nervous about leaving the motorcycle unattended. After all, it really is about the bike, the travel and it seemed rather disingenuous to leave our trusty ride alone while we wiled away our time walking about the park. We had arrived at the first corner, May 8th, 2014, 11:50 AM. A quick (and not very good - still learning how to use the GoPro Melissa's boss, Erin, bought her) video is available here.

In the distance, I pointed out to Melissa two men crowning one of the desolate hills, loping down the northern side. Very quickly after, three white and green border patrol vehicles rolled down a trail after the men, lights flashing. As we returned on the road we saw two fugitives, handcuffed to each other, the older man smiling, the younger one clearly disappointed.

We meandered to Ocean Beach, the origin of our 50 CC attempt, and meandered through the beach town, typical of all beach towns, with wonderfully odd characters, chintzy t-shirt and souvenir shops, little dive bars and restaurants, youngsters on their skateboards, the crack addict on her stretched bicycle, her dirty wife beater barely masking her emaciated breasts, mumbling incoherently, weaving down the road and into on-coming traffic, dogs tethered to bicycle racks on the street, howling for their owners' return. We're in the Ocean Beach Hotel, top floor, ocean view and I'm watching the surfers in their wet suits paddling in the ocean, looking to grab the next decent wave, of which there are plenty.

John and his girlfriend, Dana, are meeting us tonight at the hotel. They'll be two of the three witnesses who will see us off at 5 AM tomorrow as we begin our 50CC adventure. So it's an early night tonight and tomorrow brings our first 16 hour ride.