Peyote Dreams # 161 2010/08
By
Art Bone
“Poor Mexico, so far from God, so close to the United States.” – Porifiro Diaz
Disclaimer: I have never taken the drug peyote nor do I advocate its use. I’m making a literary reference to Carlos Castaneda who wrote, “Nothing in this world is a gift. Whatever must be learned must be learned the hard way.”
Carol and I fell in love with San Miguel de Allende when we came to visit in February of 2005. The first thing that struck us was the beauty of the place. It’s a World Heritage site so all the streets, buildings, and cobblestone streets are very much as they were hundreds of years ago.
SMA is an old town; they built the first mission here 50 years after Columbus discovered America, in 1542. The revolution of 1810 started here. Father Hidalgo issued his “Grito” or “Shout” in the town of Dolores (now Dolores Hidalgo) and raised an army of farmers armed with machetes and scythes and marched twenty five miles to San Miguel where they joined forces with the army of General Allende. They proceeded to kick some Spanish booty.
Of course, they got their heads cut off and hung up in cages for their troubles, but that’s how you get towns named after you.
After WW II San Miguel was discovered by American artists. Mexican artists were leaders in the Modern Art movement of the 40s and 50s and the VA would pay former GIs to attend the art school here and in Mexico City..
During the 50s and 60s a lot of the Beats came through here and one in particular never left. Neil Cassady, who was Jack Kerouac’s inspiration for the character of Dean Moriarty in On the Road, died on the railroad tracks just outside of town. He had been to a party and decided to count the cross-ties between SMA and Delores. No one knows what happened but he died of exposure.
Ken Kesey, author of Sometimes a Great Notion and One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest fled to SMA when he was busted for pot in the late 70s.
Neil Cassady drove Ken Kesey’s famous bus, Farther, when they toured across America doing “Acid Tests” and turning the United States on to LSD.
I read On the Road in the spring of 1960 and was hitch-hiking from my home in Georgia to California by December. Great Notion and Cuckoo’s Nest are two of the best novels I’ve ever read and I’m a person who’s influenced by what he reads, perhaps too much so.
So I was already predisposed to like SMA before I got here. What I didn’t know was the wonderful motorcycle roads in all directions, the fantastic weather, the community of funny, interesting, generous, free-spirited gringos and the intelligent, honest, warm, loving, hard-working Mexicans who make up the population of San Miguel.
The only serpent in this Paradise was – they didn’t have a motorcycle club.
But, hey, that’s my job.
I put an ad in Atencion and about eight of us had a meeting at the LongHorn Barbecue. We decided to have our meeting every week instead of every month since so many members are only here for a month or two every year. And, most of us are retired so what else have we got to do?
Much of the discussion at our meets is people trying to figure out how to bring a bike down or rent or buy one down here. Half the people in the club have KLR 650s so there’s a lot of interest in dirt rides. I may have to look on eBay for a P11.
I knew we couldn’t have a Norton only club or even a vintage only club. As far as I knew, there were only two Nortons in SMA and I owned both of them. That would make a small club. (I found out later there’s another Commando but the guy isn’t a joiner. I’ve seen the bike once.)
Then Mike Pumphrey and his wife bought a house a block away from me. When his real estate agent sent me an email saying that someone who owned a Norton Commando had moved in a block away, my thought was, “Yeah, right, what are the chances of that?” but I walked up the street and, sure enough, Mike has a Commando. It’s in Mexico City but he’s got one. After looking at my bike he decided to change his to a Fastback. He got the pieces on a trip to England and I helped him change out the wheels from the 18s someone had installed back to 19 inch chrome rims. The bike is stunning. Only problem is, I can’t get him to ride it. He’s afraid he’ll break down riding it from Mexico City to here. I guess I’m going to have to go down in the truck and follow him back.
There is a very large classic bike club in Mexico City and Mike and I attended their monthly meeting in May. There were no Nortons but some very interesting old stuff including an almost perfect 1937 BMW.
Last year members of MotoClassico were allowed to participate in La Carrera Panamericana, the vintage car race that starts down near the Guatemalan border and goes 2000 miles, all the way to Laredo TX. We weren’t actually racing but we got to ride at speed on closed roads and attend all the parties and award presentations.
This year we’re trying to get everyone to ride bikes that are at least 25 years old. My friend Charlie Brookman and I are riding Nortons, George Fields is riding an old airhead BMW, and Jim Schwantz is preparing a Triumph TR 6. I can’t wait to see them lined up on the starting line! I plan to deluge Berry with pictures of that.
So I’m down here, a hundred miles south of the Tropic of Cancer, learning things the hard way, as usual. The most important thing I’ve learned so far is, life is good and getting better all the time. That’s a hard concept for some of us to grasp.