The time had come to depart the Land of the Free. 

Grabbing a crayon, here's where roughly 8,000 miles of touring western USA went.

First and foremost, goodbye to Susan and John. Thank you for making these last few months a joy with your humour, assistance and enthusiasm. Susan, all the best with your new career as real estate tycoon. John, keep thumping those heads in local politics (maybe not much has changed since Myer thirty years ago?). Keep living large both of you.

Goodbye to Durango, nestled in your picturesque valley with the bubbling Animas River, your friendly outdoorsy folk, the smiling cuties at Bread cafe who know how to make a good latte and a Sow Your Oats cookie.

Goodbye to the United States. Like all of us you have your quirks, but I've enjoyed your outstanding natural features, well organised parks, excellent road network, courteous drivers and unabashed citizens. I've even got to appreciate your "regular" coffee - useful as a herbicide, for staining raw timber or de-greasing old engine bays.

* Disclaimer: I've barely scratched the surface of the country. No cities, just a selfish blow through on two wheels. 

Plan A had been to get to Los Angeles, buy a bike/any bike, set it up and head south. The USA had never been my main aim, only a convenient place to start from. Boy, are my eyes open now.  There's so much still to see. "I'll be back" as some bloke said.

Getting to the border was straightforward, even dull in parts - that old trap of meeting a schedule reducing the freedom. 

Weather in the monsoon season is challenging. The days start gently warm and clear. The heat and clouds build until in the afternoon bang! sporadic thunder and lightning. I got hammered in one storm. Blustery winds had the bike on a horrible lean, hammered left and right. It was difficult to see other traffic. 

I gave up, sitting in a McDonalds for an hour. That was weird - I haven't been in one this century apart from to use the toilet (in our house, "doing a McDonalds" is code for taking a dump).

In Grants, New Mexico the old mother road Route 66 facilities are all neglected. 

The section of highway 191 from Eager to Morenci in Arizona is a known treat for motorcyclists.  It twists it's way through the trees, seeing virtually no traffic. Many bends are signposted 20mph, 30mph et cetera, flowing left and right into each other. Fun stuff.

Morenci is a copper mining town. The scale of the open cut is mind blowing.  Think the Kalgoolie Super Pit in Western Australia, except following the hill shapes, the highway bisecting it. Impossible to capture in a single photo. 

Bisbee is a former mining town at the bottom of Arizona. It's historic district has character; small buildings have become bars, a craft brewery, tattoo parlour and so on. Perchance, I stayed in the Silver King Hotel, which boasts having America's smallest bar af the top of it's crickety stairs.

Unbeknownst to me, Saturday was comedy night. While studying Mexican maps in my decrepit room, the headline act from Denver thrilled the tiny audience with his sexual escapades. The warm up joked about her abortion at 18yo. After these class acts, I enjoyed some chat with the barlady, her hippy husband and a Mexican couple who suggested the coastal town I'm tapping from now.

... and so it was time to cross into Mexico, at a break in that great big beautiful wall. 

The USA officials were disinterested, apart from one lady: "DR650 hey? I've got a DRZ400".

Gav: "So have I, back home".

Cue crapping on about dirt bikes. 

Their Mexican counterparts are soldiers. A rather arresting young lady in camo, big lace up boots and bright pink lipstick made a half hearted search of camping gear, stove, pots, cutlery, underpants et cetera.

It's easy peasy for US citizens to cross the border and back; there's a "free zone" close to the border, where little red tape is involved.  Folk come across for cheap fun, even cheap dental work. 

Those of us going beyond this zone need 1) an immigration document, allowing 'x' days in country, 2) a temporary vehicle import and 3) Mexican specific third party insurance. This took a few hours to get done, spread across two towns. 

Both officials were somewhat taken aback at the notion of crossing their country to head further south. One even asked in all sincerity "You come from Australia. Why would you want to visit Mexico?".

Well why not? 

At least they have a modern measurement system.