Parts Arrive.. Bike Repair

Cory Writes...

Our parts were scheduled to be delivered this afternoon. I'm not a person who generally likes to sit around and wait for things to happen so I decided to ride to the freight depot and pick up our parts rather than wait for delivery. I grabbed the companies address, a map, and head into La Paz (we're just north of). I ride to roughly the location shown on the internet map but I don't see the terminal anywhere.

So I stop and ask a local, well not ask as my Spanish is less than minimal at this point but I show him the address and the map. 

He shakes his head no and point to a location on the map awfully close to where we are camped. I jump back on my bike and head to the location he indicated. I drive all over the area but find nothing.

I stop at a rental car agency and find a girl who speaks english, She says she doesn't know where it is but offers to call and get some directions for me. After about 2 mins she hangs up the phone and points on the map to a spot completely on the opposite side of the city (past the first location I was at). 

"Really?" I inquired thinking that had to be wrong. She persisted that the terminal was on the far South side. I thanked her for her time and once again headed to the specified location. I ride to the industrial area, past rickety buildings, cars on blocks and arrive again at the X drawn on the map only to find nothing! Spotting a local "policia" officer, I wave him down and show him the address. He laughs and points back to the location 2 blocks from our camp, F%^K!!!

Slightly off topic... this cop was driving a brand new truck, had a perfectly pressed uniform, expertly shined shoes, a brand new baton, handcuffs...

... and a gun that looked like it had been fished out of the Sea of Cortez. 

It was '50s era revolver with a cracked wooden handle held together with duct tape. I would have been surprised if it actually fired. 

If this is how the Mexican gov't arms their police it's no wonder they're losing the battle with the drug cartels. 

He'd have done better with a sling-shot.

Anyway... I drive back toward camp and the mythical freight terminal. I get about 3 blocks from camp and see a truck with logo of the company I'm looking for and follow it a block or 2 right into the fenced compound of the terminal. 

88km and 3 hours searching for this place and once I'm standing on the loading dock I can see our camp

Tim writes...

So we excitedly unpacked all the parts.. no pressure plate.

  The pressure plate in my clutch was was glazed, shiney, with micro cracks all over it.    Its a main piece, and should have been replaced.  But we had no choice at this point, and not willing to wait another 10 days (or more) for a replacement, we went ahead and put it back together with the old pressure plate.

It took about 7 hours to button the bike back together and get it back into running condition.

The clutch is 100% better than it was, and we are hopeful that it will hold together fine for the rest of the trip.

We video taped the entire exercise both days, so watch in the coming weeks for an update with a time-lapse of the bike being taken apart and put back together.

Neal and Troy took the ferry over Tuesday, and we will be leaving tomorrow for Mazatlan, and then we will meet up with them again on the mainland of Mexico.

After 14 days, we are finally back on track, and back on the road.