Sinaloa

I thought it a good idea to strap a Mexican to the back of my bike through arguably the most dangerous area in the entire country, Sinaloa. In actual fact, ´Rom´ was the one who spearheaded the idea, and i hoped there was a snowballs chance in hell we were both going to make it home alive. about a half hour of preps ripping the bike apart and godammn it we were on the road unbelievably. no stopping for gas, because it took so long just to get on the damn bike. she was loaded to the hilt. Guaymachil, the city´s name we were headed to, was morphing into reality in my mind the closer we got, and the further topolabompo and the ferry terminal. The city´s lights came with a welcome sigh about 1 hour 40 after our departure with just one stop, and plenty of wriggling around to save my butt legs and back from complete disaster and permanent damage. I was none too happy when rom´s first stop consisted of a dark house with no lights. It´s late, and i remember rom hasn´t been home in 2 years.