I woke early to blue skies and cool weather and I knew it was going to be a good day. Rolling out of San Cristóbal de las Casas I stopped to fuel up and drink a mediocre cup of gas station coffee. I was sitting on the curb enjoying my coffee when a Mexican man on a beat-up moto rolled up and gave me an energetic wave. He too went in to get his cup of jo. When he returned he shook my hand and patted my bike like it was a horse. "Me encanta tu moto" (I love your motorcycle) he said. How big is it? I replied "Ochocientos" (800). His eyes gleamed. He went on to tell me all about his bike, places he has been and how much he loved riding. I only understood about 50% of the actual words but I knew what he was saying because I've had this conversation so many times. One of the wonderful things about traveling by motorcycle is that you are more approachable. Everywhere I go, people talk to me. Generally they are more interested in telling me about their motorcycle story than listening to mine but that is fine by me. I like to hear their enthusiasm and It gives us a moment to connect over something that we have in common, even though we are strangers. The man shook my hand twice more, wished me a safe journey, patted the bike one more time for good measure and then rode off. I smiled. That's a good start I thought. I pulled on my helmet and set off. The ride today was beautiful but slow going. This area of Mexico is definitely the least developed that I have experience on this trip. The highways, Mexico 190 and then 199, are not really highways as I only averaged 27mph over the 160+ miles to Tenosique. The road was narrow and poorly paved. There was very little open road. Small villages, shops, roadside restaurants and repair services sparsely but persistently lined the road for its entire distance. Makeshift cinderblock buildings with corrugated roofs, surrounded by chickens, turkeys and other livestock. Many men and women wore traditional dress with bright turquoise or pink blouses. Skinny dogs picked through piles of garbage or lazed along the road. Between the heavy truck traffic moving very slowly along the mountain road and the speed bumps which occur randomly every few minutes, it is slow going. Some of the speed bumps are marked with warning signs. Some are painted yellow. Others are completely invisible until you hit them. When you do hit them, some have a nice gentle slope in which the bike smoothly absorbs the shock. Others are so abrupt that bike bounces harshly and so do my joints. The first 40 or 50 are okay but my wrists, low back, neck and rear end start to protest as the day wears on. I try hitting them very slowly and then very fast to see if I can find a sweet spot. I found that if I hit them fast enough to launch the bike airborne and let the wheels touchdown simultaneously on the other side was the best technique but kind of defeated the reason the speed bumps were there in the first place. There are a lot of people along the road. A lot of children too. Best to just slow down. I make it a point to wave or nod at anyone that makes eye contact with me. I get many different reactions to this. Some people just ignore me which is fine. Others, reflexively wave or nod back which makes me wonder if they are left thinking "Do I know that guy?". The ones I love are when you actually make contact. When you see someone's face light up and they enthusiastically smile and wave back. It's a fun game and it delights me all day long but it also serves a very important purpose. One, I want people to remember me positively if they encounter me again down the road or in case I need help. Two, it gives me a read on whether or not I'm welcome. For example. Later today, I had to make a choice. Either I ride 18 miles on an unpaved farm road or take the long way. An additional sixty miles on the speed bump highway. I had been warned about getting too far off the beaten path in this region and I was pondering whether this road constituted on or off that path. The road seemed well trafficked albeit it was rough gravel with some washouts. I proceeded and started encountering a few locals on motorbikes. I waved. They waved. I rode through someone's ranch and waved to the farm hands who were working on a piece of equipment. They waved. I saw a cowboy on a horse driving twenty head of cattle down the road in my direction. I stopped my bike to let them pass and waved. He waved. You see, they were all telling me that I was welcome there. Then I encountered a very strange sight. An old man that looked to be in his seventies came bouncing down the road on an old vespa scooter. He had a 6 foot step ladder crossways on his lap so that he took up the entire road. I stopped and it took a few minutes for him to negotiate his way around me. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say "how else do you ride with a step ladder!?". I agreed. I smiled and waved.