A Sublime Loop in this Southwestern States

Wheeling up on my BMW F650GS to the U.S. border at Tecate on the Mexico side felt more like a “Triple Whopper with fries” drive-thru experience than the usual cacophony of queues and chaos surrounding the more southern fronteras. The two-year familiarity of my old, comforting Latin American life was about to leave me for a convenient New World one. An American immigration official greeted us formally at the barrier. Plenty of instructional “Pleases” and “Thank yous,” but few of the warm pleasantries to which I’d become accustomed in Latin and South American.

Upon inquiring where we might find the Mexican aduana to relinquish our temporary motorcycle permits, the American officer looked at me square on and in a reassuring tone remarked, “Don’t worry, ma’am, you’re safe now.” Having experienced months of colour and contrast, unscathed and far from intimidated throughout the length and breadth of Mexico – right from the southernmost tip of Argentina, in fact – I was curious about the context behind such a statement.

Onward we wended to savour a short but sweet taste of California. And, wonderfully, the hospitality of a San Diego-based family whose social circle comprised a couple of medicinal marijuana drug dealers, a female Olympic gold medallist windsurfer and a well-travelled Frenchman welcomed us. The experience