El Diablo Run - EDR 2019

     The El Diablo Run is a chopper get together in San Felipe, Baja California, Mexico.  San Felipe is about 125 miles south of the border from Mexicali.  The EDR only happens every other year and a last minute mechanical problem kept me away in 2017, this year I was ready to go.

     I called my friend Bob Marshall in Riverside, California.  Bob  said of course he was going to the EDR.  So I rode to Riverside, spent the night and the next morning Bob, his girlfriend Annette and I headed for Mex-he-co.  

     
          It's about 300 miles from Riverside to San Felipe. We rode east to Indio then south by the Salton Sea to Calexico where we crossed the border to Mexicali.  Mexican Highway 5 south of Mexicali is a pretty lonely road.  There a few small settlements but no gas stations.  

I had been told there was one Army checkpoint about half way to San Felipe.  I envisioned a few young unhappy soldiers with mildly itchy trigger fingers standing around a military duece and a half parked in the road.  What I found was a professionally manned checkpoint, similar to the one found between Reno and Truckee in Northern California.  We were waved through without stopping. 

     Bob and Annette had reserved a hotel closer to town, so I settled into Ruben's Camp.  The beach was beautiful and the weather was mild.  

I met up with old friends.

 










     


    
     
     
     









     
     The EDR is truly a Chopper event and there were very few stock bikes.

     

     
          There were some local motorcycle clubs with interesting names.

     
          
     The races were on Saturday. The dirt lot across from Ruben's Camp was the location. Bob Marshall, land speed racer, entered his Kawasaki KZ-1000P bike in the hardtail race. He didn't win but had a good time and didn't die or tear up his bike too much. Really, a Kawasaki Police bike is hardly a flat tracker.

     After a weekend of sun, beer and fried shrimp, it was time to head home.  I rode to Mexicali, where I parted ways with friends, who were headed to border crossings to the east.  I had a little trouble finding the international border because a lot of the traffic signs were damaged and I had heard that there was a "hole" in the fence that was for motorcycles.
     
     I asked a few locals and they confirmed that waiting in the car line would take hours and be incredibly hot and that there was a motorcycle lane.  The "hole" in the traffic fence was in fact to allow motorcycles to access the motorcycle lane that was between the car lanes. 

     Once back in California, I headed home and as usual I got into that mode where I just kept going and going. There were heavy winds near Palm Springs and it rained on and off from Santa Nella to Oakland, but I kept going and made it home about midnight.