Day 87 kt:52 ta:2147 gps: N 17 degrees 39.335' W 101 degrees 33.393'
Day 88 I stayed in Zihuatenejo
When I finally made it to the beach, I was famished because I was sick of my palenquetas and cans of tuna. I didn't care that Zihuatenejo is a tourist trap. I ate at the first restuarant that I could find. I even ended up renting a room for $20 which is way too much for what I got. As I always do when I rent a room, I took a shower, or rather attempted to take a shower. There was no water pressure from the shower head so what I took was actually somewhere between a whore-bath and a shower. I actually lathered up with soap but I had to use the sink to wash off all of the soap. At least there were toilet seats at the hotel. Hell, there was full cable at the hotel so I ended up watching a lot of CNN to get my news fix. Those who know me well no that I am a total news junkie.
The next day when I was sitting at an internet cafe right before I planned to leave, I saw not one, not two or three, but four cyclists touring the coast of Mexico. They are Collin from Vancouver Island, Canada; Scott and Casey from Portland, Oregon; and Mu Son from Denver, Colorado. I decided it would be fun to hang out with these guys for a while. We ended up staying in Zihuatenejo. I helped with translation at the bike shops as Casey is the only one with strong Spanish skills. We all ended up playing a game of three-on-three basketball with one of the locals. A rather sizeable crowd gathered to watch us. We then went out to eat and split one of those monster platters that the restuarants make for large groups of people. When we went to camp on the beach, we were shooed away by naval officers because we were in a military zone. We then grudgingly rode to the other side of the bay where we slept under the stars.
Day 89 kt:89.4 ta: 2609 gps: N 17 degrees 18.418' W 101 degrees 03.343'
The first full day of riding with the group was a fun one. We are all in good riding shape and we were able to come to a pretty comfortable consensus about most things: we all agreed it would be nice to lunch by the water and we all agreed it would be nice to camp on the beach. I definitely feel safe camping on the beach with four others. I made a huge campfire since there was an abundance of driftwood just lying around. Mother Earth is usually good enough company but it is always nice to have conversations with others besides yourself around the campfire.
We had an experience this morning with some horrible service at a restuarant in Zihuatenejo. The waiter literally fucked every order except mine. He didn't even seem to be trying. I think it should be mentioned that the Mexican concept of food service is very different from American standards of what constitutes acceptable food service. Here, if you complain about your food, you will still have to pay for it and you will probably be laughed at. The best system of food service is probably somewhere between the American and Mexican standards. I think that the American customer is completely spoiled with restuarants that will happily recook their food and take it off the bill when people don't like it. They best way to get what you want here is to keep your order very simple.
Day 90 kt: 129 ta:1978 gps: N 17 degrees 00.568' W 100 degrees 05.923'
We made good time today because we all resolved to hammer it all day long. We all seem to follow the same rhythem: we were all up at dawn and all wanted to eat and rest at the same time. We should all make it to Acapulco tomorrow around 11:00 a.m. so we can all run errands and hopefully be out of the city by 2:00 p.m. None of us really want to stay there.
When we were riding along the highway today, we came across a huge traffic jam. We pushed our way past all of the traffic only to find police blocking traffic from both directions. As cyclists are all natural anarchists, we didn't pay any heed to the roadblocks and rode right through. The source of the traffic jam was a gasoline tanker that had one of its tires explode, forcing it to skid out of control and pierce its tank, causing quite a conflagration. By the time we rode by, the tanker was completely burnt out and I am sure that it tied up traffic for many hours. I am sure glad to be on my bike.
Day 91 kt:37.9 ta: 647 gps: N 16 degrees 50.828' W 99 degrees 54.505'
In the past, I have compared Acapulco to rectal cancer. I think that I was probably a little harsh. It is more like bad indigestion. This was once a beautiful place but, has since, been ruined by the explosion of tourists. There are now high-rise hotels all over the place, but never fear intrepid explorer, there are actually affordable placese to stay and to eat. The place that most of us stayed at only cost about $9 per day. There are no toilet seats but there is ample water pressure. Considering that I have grown used to having no toilets or running water, this seems quite luxurious to me.
We arrived in the city early and originally planned to pass through but Casey had a serious run of bad luck with his rear wheel. His luck is worse than mine. By the time we reached the city, he had popped nine spokes and had to push his bike, while lifting the back wheel, to the nearest bike shop. Being that it is Domingo and a holiday nonetheless, we were unable to find any bike shops or laundromats that were open. Hopefully, we can all take care of our chores tomorrow morning and leave in the early afternoon.
I guess that I should mention the name of the holiday today: it is el Dia de los Tres Reyes Magos. Who are the tres reyes magos? They are the three wise men who brought gifts to baby Jesus. On this day, Mexicans eat Pan de la Rosca and give each other gifts in honor of the three wise men. If you find a little doll that has been baked into the bread you are obliged to make or buy tamales and atole for all of your friends and family on February 2nd or el Dia del Calendario. I saw something hilarious today: after a presentation of Blancanieve y los Siete Enanos, there was a dance competition between little boys and girls for toys as prizes. Latin rhythems are already kind of sexualized but a little girl stole the show when she started pole dancing with the microphone stand. I couldn't stop laughing.
After I returned to the hotel, I just hung out watching American movies dubbed in Spanish while waiting for my friends. When I returned to my room, I discovered, to my horror, that ants had found my food and had invaded my room. They completely covered my bed sheets and most of the food in my bag. At least they weren't fire ants. I didn't have much food left, anyway. When I told the doorman, he gave me some new bed sheets and sprayed the room with industrial insecticide. Now that is what I call service.
Day 92 I stayed in Acapulco
Day 93 kt:109 ta: 3157 gps:N 16 degrees 46.531' W 99 degrees 11.975'
We ended up staying in Acapulco one more day to take care of all of our errands. It was fun. There is pretty good food for cheap all around town and I was able to get my internet fix. Four of us went to see El Amor en el Tiempo de Colera. I appreciated the irony of seeing a movie in English with Spanish subtitles that was translated from Spanish to begin with. We, being four burly, unshaven men did not seem like the typical demographic who would want to see what was marketed as a chick-flick.
Leaving Acapulco was not easy because there was a large hill with lots of traffic right outside of the city. However, after we left Acapulco, the land was flatter and there was less traffic. We all make pretty good time together. It sounds like we are probably going to part ways in Puerto Escondido. Maybe, I will stay an extra day and try to surf.
Day 94 kt:87.6 ta:2358 gps: N 16 degrees 38.578' W 98 degrees 31.803'
Sometimes there is so much livestock roaming free through the towns that us city boys have some amusing encounters with the creatures. We were all awoken last night by some copulating horsed outside of our tents. They definitely make some funny noises. In the morning we were awoken by a symphony, or cacophony if you prefer, of roosters. Anyone who has ever been around roosters should know that they crow well before dawn. It is like the roosters get together and say, " Okay everyone, it is 4:30 a.m. It is time for yall to wake the fuck up."
I finally got to try iguana for the first time today. I am not joking when I say that it tastes like chicken. The texture of the meat and skin is definitely different but if I closed my eyes I could swear I was eating at KFC. I loved the red sauce that they served it with.
We were on a pretty good pace today until we made it to the town of Juchitan, Guerrero. It was there that we stopped at a store to rest and buy some supplies. There was a man in front of the store shoeing a horse while listening to an excellent band practice in the open lot next to the store. We ended up hanging out at the store and listening to the band for a while. I even got the band to play a couple of cumbias so my friends could hear one of my favorite genres of music. Before we knew it, there was only an hour left before sunset and we had to leave and find a campsite. I am glad that we stopped and listened to Los Juchitecos as they called themselves.
Day 95 kt: 87.7 ta:2540 gps: N 16 degrees 19.963' W 98 degrees 00.901'
Today, we passed through the part of the Guerrero coast that has a heavy African influence. There is even a museum dedicated to the African influence in Mexico in the city of Cuajinicuilapa, Guerrero. I can't say that I learned anything that I didn't already know but I did have fun playing with all of the African instruments they had in the museum. I even found Chilate in the city. It is tasty but I can't say that it tastes much different from chocolate soy milk.
We finally left Guerrero for the state of Oaxaca today. I swear it almost seemed like it got another 5 or 10 degrees hotter once we crossed the border. We climbed some long ascents in the heat today. It is the kind of climbing that would make you have a heat stroke if you aren't careful. We are all hoping that we don't have to do as much climbing tomorrow but we are ready if we have to.
The spot we camped at was next to a lovely waterfall. It is too bad that the city of Pinotepa, Oaxaca dumps all of their sewage into the creek that the waterfall flows from, or so we were told. The campsite doesn't smell bad or anything, but we were told not to swim near the base of the waterfall. I still thought the sewer cascade was quite beautiful as many different kinds of birds flocked to it to bathe.
Day 96 kt:137 ta: 3574 gps: N 15 degrees 51.687' W 97 degrees 07.911'
Day 97 I stayed in Puerto Escondido
Day 98 kt:116 ta: 4565 gps: N 15 degrees 45.640' W 96 degrees 07.352'
On the morning that we left for Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca, we were all pretty determined to make it to the city before sunset. We took very few breaks and had actually already ridden 80 kilometers by noon so we actually rode into town several hours before sunset.
Puerto Escondido is quite a touristy place by now but there are ample amounts of economically priced hotels. The place that four of us stayed at was called the Hotel Mayflower but it was actually more like a hostel. For about $11 a night we got a room with television, free internet, and free billiards. The place was filled with Europeans though there were definitely quite a few Americans and Canadians. Everybody seemed to be in a festive mood so a good time was had by all. The only complaint that I have is that there was a club close to the hotel which played obnoxiously loud techno until about 5 a.m. The church that was almost contiguous to the hotel would then ring their bells at about 6 a.m.
I went surfing, or rather, made and attempt to go surfing with one of the Oregonians. We both stood up so we got to feel pretty triumphant. Apparently, the big waves don't come to Puerto Escondido for another month and a half so we didn't get completely thrashed by the waves.
Today, we rode a shorter distance than when we rode into Puerto Escondido but it was significantly more grueling. We had to deal with rolling hills all day long and were all pretty exhausted after riding a hundred kilometers. Our campsite is in the city of Santa Cruz Huatulco, Oaxaca. It is one of those cities that the government built just for tourists but we can still camp on the beach. This may be the last night that we get to camp on the beach in Mexico as the coastal road is going to start curving inland soon.
Day 99 kt: 114 ta: 4884 gps: N 16 degrees 04.411' W 95 degrees 24.109'
We all got a staggered start this morning. The Oregonians started riding about 40 minutes before the rest of us. I was really not in the mood to play catch-up so I decided it was time to become an autonomous decision making unit, again. Despite all of this, I still ended up putting in a pretty grueling day today. The rolling hills along the coast of Oaxaca really add up. Combine this with the heat and I feel quite exhuasted and famished at the end of the day.
Another piece of my gear broke today: my sleeping pad which I have had for at least seven years finally bit the bullet. It still seems to hold a little bit of air but there is a serious leak through the valve and some of the the internal air chambers have busted and there is now a large bubble in it whenever I inflate it. I am still going to keep my sleeping pad because, even though it no longer provides a good cushion, it still provides a layer of insulation for those cold days that lie ahead. I expect to see more frigidly cold days in both the Andes and in Patagonia. Someone told me that there is an REI in Buenos Aires. Maybe I will try to replace it there.
Day 100 kt:67.1 ta:1716 gps: N 16 degrees 24.603' W 95 degrees 05.020'
I was determined to make this day a lazy day. I suceeded in grand fashion. I slept in until the sun rose rather than wake up before and I took a two-and-a-half hour internet break in Salina Cruz, Oaxaca to go with the two lunches which sandwiched my internet break. It looks like it is going to be flat tomorrow so I think that I will try to get another good day in.
If anybody ever asks, there are definitely virgin beaches in Oaxaca. They are unspoiled because they are still relatively inaccessible. I am sure that there are developers out there that want to build high-rise hotels along the entire coastline of Mexico.
I keep telling myself that I am not going to shave or cut my hair until I reach Buenos Aires so I can have some extra warmth in the cold places I plan to travel through. That being said, I am start to look thouroughly homeless. My beard and mustache are as long as they have ever been and really bother me anytime I eat anything like a sandwich or a taco. I don't know if I have the willpower not to shave it before Argentina.
Day 101 kt:101 ta: 1573 gps: N 16 degrees 28.314' W 94 degrees 19.324'
Despite many breaks and even a nap, I was able to make some good distance today. If I can keep up the good pace, I should be in Guatemala in less than a week.
I saw a wind farm today. It is the first place in Mexico where I have seen one but, in all fairness, there don't seem to be many parts of Mexico with a wind strong and consistent enough to power a wind turbine. I have seen a few isolated rural houses that have solar cells though there could be many more here as Mexico has an abundance of sunlight. It seems that solar power is a viable energy source in about 80% of Mexico. When I think about it, there is a large stretch of Africa where solar power would be a viable energy source. I would completely support an initiative to install solar cells in rural villages all around the developing world. The thought of these countries developing and using more fossil fuels to power their development frightens me very much. If we keep consuming energy energy in the same rate and fashion, the human race should be extinct in about 100 years. Nuclear energy is not a viable option to clean up the mess we have created. If it was, it would be no big deal that Iran wants to build nuclear reactors. As far as I know, there is still not a viable manner to deal with nuclear waste. Whenever the government tries to bury its nuclear waste anywhere, people rightfully freak out.
Day 102 kt:106 ta: 1330 gps: N 16 degrees 00.204' W 93 degrees 39.756'
I had some trouble sleeping in the mango orchard where I stayed last night. The road where I was seems to be a major trucking corridor as semis roared by all night long. I also couldn't seem to get used to the new bulge in my sleeping pad.
There were mountains to my left threatening all day long but the road I was travelling on stayed in the coastal plain. I guess I am getting a break until Guatemala where I will have to charge right into those mountains. I am told that I am going to rise from see level to over 8,000 feet. I had some good long, hilly days along the Oaxacan coast so I think that I am up for the challenge. It should be remembered that all of these mountains are mere speed bumps compared to the Andes.
The countryside is beautiful hre. Many of the mountain peaks look they are composed of different minerals than their neighboring peaks so they have a cool, multi-colored look. Some of the mountains along the Oaxaca-Chiapas border are speckled with trees that bloom with yellow and magenta flowers. I am healthily in Chiapas territory now and I think that the scenery should be more of the same tomorrow.
The plants are a little different here but the one thing that really lets me know that I am not in Texas any more are the birds. Today, I saw a kingfisher, a flamingo, and two birds which I can not name but which I can describe: the first appeared to be some kind of hawk with a red beak and blue mask and the second, which seems to be quite common here, seems like a large jay bird with extra long tail feathers and a funny looking crest on its head. Birds are extremely elusive when you want to take their pictures so I still have not gotten any good pictures of them. I am tempted to spend a whole day stalking birds with my camera. If I do this, I think it will be further south as the earth's biodiversity increases as you approach the equator.
I travel to a lot of places that are neglected by the Lonely Planet readers. There are generally less tourist attractions in these cities but they sure are cheap. In the town of Arriaga, Chiapas I found tacos for 3 pesos each. I ordered eight of them. I finished that off with two scoops of ice creams and a small coconut horchata. My double-desert still cost less than two scoops would in a more touristy place.
I had a minor wipeout on my bike today. It was at low speed so I am fine. My front saddlebad had to be bent back in place, though. I am glad that I have a steel frame bicycle or the part I had to bend back in place would probably snap right off. This is the second time that I have had to bend it back in place so I am worried that it will snap off if I have to bend it back, again.
Day 103 kt: 80.3 ta: 1668 gps: N 15 degrees 03.917' W 92 degrees 24.606'
I got a fare amount of slacking off into my day today. I keep reading the news online wherever I find an internet cafe. Nothing new seems to be happening. I keep secretly hoping that one (or all) of the U.S. presidential candidates is assassinated so I will have something interesting to read about.
Day 104 kt: 98.4 ta:1668 gps: N 15 degrees 03.917' W 92 degrees 24.606'
Even after two hours of internet surfing, two long food stops, many 420 breaks, and a bath in one of the many clean tributaries that Chiapas has to offer, I still got a good amount of riding in today. Provided that my dealings with both the Mexican and Guatemalan bureaucracies go smoothly, I should be in Guatemala by midday tomorrow. I guess that I am going to have to bid my beloved Mexico adieu. Until we meet again my love.
I have been giving all of my gear the ultimate road test. My tires are almost bald though I plan to ride on them until I have chronic problems with flats. Both pairs of my pants/shorts have holes where I sit on my bike seat and neither one of them has effective back pockets anymore. My sleeping pad is kaput though I have figured out how to make it more comfortable by underinflating it. My GPS works great for logging my trip distance and total ascent but the map is wildly inaccurate outside of the United States. I am usually several kilometers off of the highway according to my GPS even though I am right on the highway. I have seen important cities omitted from my GPS map and more recently they seem to be switched around as they are sometimes 30 kilometers off mark. The topographical data, though not entirely accurate due to the inaccuracy of my map, is still useful. All in all, I am glad I purchased my GPS device. I just wish I hadn't wasted that extra hundred on the World Map software.
I rode until right before sunset today and did something I don't usually do: I asked a family if I could camp on their property. They said yes and even brought me a whole bunch of water. The moral of this story is that the next time that a Mexican shows up at your doorstep asking for assistence you should show them some good old-fashioned American hospitality. I am not being sarcastic. Anyway, I am grateful to Bartolo and his family for being such gracious hosts.
Day 105 kt:75.8 ta: 1832 gps: N 14 degrees 46.407' W 92 degrees 06.181'
I was awoken by a flock of chickens roaming free this morning. It was fun watching them interact. There were several roosters among them. They didn't fight to the death but they definitely did fight. They usually only fight when there is a woman involved. Pretty much all of the roosters would do their mating dance where they walk tall in circles around the hens only to be rebuffed or chased away by the bigger roosters. I started thinking about cockfighting, animal cruelty, and the relativity of different cultures. Cockfighting doesn't seem to be all that cruel when one begans to ponder the lives that most American chickens live. A chicken in the U.S. will live its entire life confined to a cage. I don't know how much training goes into a champion rooster but I kind of get the feeling that they just naturally fight anyways. What is more cruel: allowing a rooster to live mostly free life than putting it up against a stronger rooster in a cockfight or keeping a rooster caged up its entire life only to meet an efficient, mechanized death? I am not condoning cockfighting, I am condemning factory farming. Cultural relativity is crazy like that. It is kind of like how we say Muslim women are so oppressed because they have to wear a burka but our own standards of beauty are so oppressive that the average American woman hates her body because it doesn't hold up to our rigid standard of beauty. I wonder how many Muslim anorexic women there are? If there are any, they are probably in Dubai, U.A.E. which seems to perfectly meld the Muslim aesthetic with western profligacy.
I crossed the border today with some annoyances but here I am in Guatemala. Talisman, Chiapas is like any other border town: it is filled with beggars and hucksters. The hucksters swarm you like flies. I think that I even got hucked by a huckster today when changing my money. Oh well, I should have enough to reach Guatemala City. The next time I am in a border city, I think that I will shoo them away just like flies. No necesito ayuda ni tengo dinero. Larganse. I will have the exchange rates written down and I will only use the moneychangers on the streets if there are no banks. I won't respond to any comment made in English and I will pretend I don't even speak it. If the people speak English to you at the borders, they probably want your money. If anybody offers help, I will shoo them away. If they offer help, they probably want your money. I had one guy following me around saying he would show me the immigration building. I did not need his help since I can read. He, of course, wanted money for his "help". I told him I didn't have any. He was disappointed but he left me alone after that. The next time I pass through a border town, I won't smile; remove my sunglasses (I learned that trick from the cops); or speak to anyone who doesn't work in immigration, customs, or sell food. I don't like to put up walls like that but it is a defense mechanism.
I smuggled the remaining weed I had in my bicycle handlebars. My pipe was in my seatpost. I didn't even need to go through that trouble since no one stopped me to search me when I entered Guatemala. Both Mexico and Guatemala are self-sufficient in marijuana production so I don't think either country is too concerned about it crossing the border. It should be mentioned that Mexico has immigration checkpoints starting in Oaxaca and increasing in frequency in Chiapas. I do find it hypocritical of Mexico to so strongly enforce its own border to the south when it cries fould at U.S. immigration policy. I say this as someone who supports the removal of all barriers to immigration everywhere. In a perfect world, I could cross the border of any country while smoking a joint and without asking my own government or any other government for permission to do so.
The average Guatemalan is definitely poorer than the average Mexican. You can see the increased poverty in everything. The police here don't drive brand new Dodge Chargers but beat-up old Nissans. The colectivos, as the trucks or vans that transport people are called, are weighed down with more people and there are usually even people hanging off the edges. This happens infrequently in Mexico but seems to be a regular occurence here. Some of the people here can't even afford to build houses out of refuse scrap metal and, instead, use plastic tarps to make makeshift tents. I even seem to see more women and children doing heavy labor. They do the labor that I usually see donkeys doing in Mexico. I still haven't seen a donkey, strangely enough. I saw several old ladies carrying large loads of firewood on their backs and, I swear, I saw a five-year-old carrying a 50 pound sack of something on his back. Well, maybe he was older than five but he was pretty fucking small. None of these things are things that I would never see in Mexico but they seem to be a common occurence here.
Tomorrow, my joyride on flat land shoud be replaced with grueling mountain climbing. I am barely above 100 feet right now and I should have to pass over 8,000 feet on the way to Guatemala City. Woo hoo!
Day 106 kt: 44.8 ta: 2421 gps: 14 degrees 42.036' W 91 degrees 47.336'
I was still in a somewhat foul mood from yesterday's border experience when I woke up this morning. A little riding took care of that. I soon found out that there are, indeed, cash machines between the border and Guatemala City. I have now reupped on cash and no longer have to worry about running out of cash before I reach the big city. Before, my plans were to haul ass to the big city where I could restock on supplies but now I plan to take a more leisurely, or rather more grueling route to the capital. I am going to go through the mountains through, what is called, Tierra Fria to get to Guatemala City. I will pass through el Lago de Atitlan, Antigua, and Chimaltenango where there is a cool organization called Mayapedal that I want to check out.
After my cash situation was resolved, I spent a lot of time farting around in Coatepeque, Guatemala. I spent some time on the internet reading the news and and looking up exchange rates for all of the currencies of the countries I plan to pass through. I had previously made the mistake of not writing down these rates but will not make this same mistake, again. I try to learn from bad experiences. I wondered around the city looking for typical Guatemalan food rather than the Mexican standards which are still ubiquitous. I found an old lady selling a deep fried vegetable called pacaya along with another vegetable she called hierba mora. They were both delicious and cheap.
After eating my lunch, Guatemalans started giving me gifts of soda and vitamins. These are two things that I did not particularly want but I think it was the gods way of telling me that I could let down my guard and trust people again. I went ahead and took this as divine commentary and immediately let down my walls.
I am camped out on top of a hill that is under construction to probably be another monotonous suburb. I have an excellent view as I have climbed to almost 3,000 feet, again. My campsite is in an old abandoned house that still has a roof. This is good because it looks like it could rain tonight. The jungle has quite suddenly engulfed me. When I was traveling along the coast of Chiapas, it seemed like most of the area was either ranchland or under some kind of cultivation. Here, it seems like the jungle pervades everything.
Before I set up my tent, I saw a huge flock of hundreds of parrots. I tried to get closer for a good picture but to no avail. I find myself wishing I had a camera with a 30X optical zoom. With that I could have a lot more good pictures of birds. I am still looking for monkeys and I am sure that I will encounter them at some point in my journey.
A lot of people have written me telling me how cold and miserable Austin is right now. I say to them that the grass is always greener on the other side. It is very hot here and I have a heat rash chafing my inner thighs. I can't wait to reach la Tierra Fria. When it is summertime in Austin and everyone is writing me about how hot it is in Austin I will probably be freezing my ass off in Patagonia. I knew that I was going to experience extreme weather condition when I started this trip. I am well equipped for all weather conditions and I look forward to the challenge.
Day 107 kt:38.9 ta: 5893 gps: N 14 degrees 52.190' W 91 degrees 37.289'
I don't think that I am going to see flat terrain again for a while. I ascended high enough today that low-lying clouds fogged up the road. The road was very steep to make my day very challenging. Normally, I can climb hills without getting off of my seat most of the time but I was out of the saddle for most of the day today. When I got to the city of San Juan, Guatemala, which is right outside of Quetzaltenango, I was at such a high elevation I had to dig out some of my cold weather gear. I expect more of the same all the way to Guatemala City.
Guatemala definitely has a more indigenous feel to it than Mexico does. Though I definitely heard people speaking indigenous dialects in Southern Mexico, it seems like half the people I run into here speak some Mayan dialect. I even say a teenage boy speaking Mayan on his cell phone. Many, if not most, of the women still wear traditional dresses and carry babies on their backs and loads on their heads.
Most of the people that I have met that have been to both Mexico and Guatemala scared me into thinking that the food of Guatemala is horrible. Thankfully, this is not so. I have enjoyed Guatemalan tamales, which are called chuchos, and I had a really good masa empanada called a doblada that was filled with a mixture of cooked carrots and chicken. I look forward to discovering more flavors.
Day 108 kt: 35.2 ta: 1980 gps: N 14 degrees 53.497' W 91 degrees 25.429'
I woke up this morning to the sound of loud trucks passing by the hotel where I stayed at. This is not the first time that I have been awoken by loud noise. If it is not loud trucks, it is roosters. If it is not roosters, it will be monkeys. At least I am not awoken by the screeching of an alarm clock. That is the most loathesome sound. I tried to stock up on peanut butter, granola bars, and water in San Juan but to no avail. I couldn't find the former two anywhere and the latter could only be found in half liters and five gallon jugs with nothing in between. Fortunately, Quetzaltenango was only 10 kilometers away and I was able to find all of those things there. I have a feeling that I will be having supply issues all throughout Guatemala.
It is going to be cold again for awhile and this definitely makes me slack off a little more. I spent a whole lot of time just sitting in marketplaces soaking in the sights and sounds. I have a feeling that I will be doing a whole lot of this as there are many interesting sights and sounds here in Guatemala. Maybe I will even take some pictures.
Day 109 kt: 64.2 ta:3659 gps: N 14 degrees 46.297' W 91 degrees 10.996'
When I woke up this morning, I was lazy as expected and did not want to leave my warm sleeping bag. Who would have thought it would be cold above 8,000 feet. Most of Guatemala is quite mountainous so it is surprisingly cold in many parts of the country.
The portion of the Pan-American highway which I travelled on today is mostly under construction. The government is expanding the two lanes to four lanes and they stop traffic in both directions for large periods of time. They, of course, let me pass and I had the road to myself quite often. There are also disadvantages to the road being under construction: I had to go over some rocky stretches of road; I discovered a new road hazard in the form of falling rocks loosened by construction equipment; and, when they inevitably let the drivers through, they are pretty pissed off. All that being said, I did make it to el Lago de Atitlan.
I am in the town of Solola, Guatemala which is on the northern border of the lake. The place where I am staying at only cost 20 Quetzales per night. This somewhere between $2 and $3. I could literally stay here for years without working with the money I have saved up. Granted my room is pretty spartan but I like that. If I keep finding rooms this cheap, I might not camp in the rest of Guatemala.
One of the things that sets Guatemala apart from the rest of Spanish speaking Latin America is that there are more evangelicals than Catholics. I see very few old Catholic churches and lots of new Evangelical ones in the countryside. I am going to have to look into the history of Evangelicism in Guatemala. I have a feeling that Evangelical dominance probably has something to do Catholic neglect and all of those Christian Childrens' Fund commercials I saw when I was a kid in the 1980s. I kind of miss the Catholics as the Evangelicals more aggressively proselytize as they see it as their duty to save all of us sinners. I want to scream, "I don't buy the religions that others sell." but I always end up being more polite as I am an ambassador of good will.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Into the heat
Day 73 kt: 19.5 ta: 859 gps: N 19 degrees 13.387' W 99 degrees 08.535'
I ended up staying in Mexico City one more day because I didn't want to hurry to do my errands: I needed to buy new gloves, burn my photos to a C.D., and mail my photos and Christmas presents for my mom to Austin. Moreover, I wanted to party with Edgar one last time before I left the city. I even drank a little alcohol, though, not quite as much as Edgar who fell off his bike twice while we were riding back to his house from the party. I woke up late and didn't actually leave Edgar's house until 2:30 p.m.
Leaving Mexico City is, thus far, the hardest thing that I have had to do. My actual departure was a very poignant moment. The whole Medina family gathered in front of their house so we could all take pictures together. I tried to hold back tears but ended up crying under my sunglasses. I am really going to miss all of my friends and the Medina family. I am very seriously considering moving back to Mexico City when my journey is over. At the very least, I am going to have to find more time to visit.
I barely made it out of the city because I had to make a few stops. Upon looking at my rear rim, I noticed that there are cracks where the spokes and spoke nipples connect. As the right-sized rims are impossible to find in el D.F.( Believe me, I tried), I had to use another ghetto-rig solution: I used metal epoxy paste to seal the cracks. Right now, my rim is straight and the cracks seem to be well sealed so I am hoping to make it, at least, far enough to replace my rim. I am just going to have to ask around in every city that I ride through. I honestly think that the epoxy paste will hold for a while though I am prepared to ride on my rear rim until my wheel explodes.
My campsite is in the mountains between Mexico City and Cuernavaca, Morelos. I am going to have to get myself back into my nomadic lifestyle. Hopefully, having a warm bed and shower hasn't made me fat and weak.
Day 74 kt:80.8 ta:2198 gps: N 18 degrees 45.849' W 99 degrees 14.342'
My first twenty kilometers of the day was all spent climbing. The rest was all descent. Whee!! I descended over 6,000 feet, passing through Cuernavaca on the way towards a town called Iguala, Guerrero where I will turn off towards Zihuatenejo, Guerrero. Morelos is the state that Emiliano Zapata is from and where he started his rebellion against the Mexican government. I have set up my campsite on a hill overlooking a prison and a Mexican suburb. If you think that American suburbs are monotonous, you should see a Mexican suburb.
I have not gone on one of my political rants in a while but I have seen some things in the news that have caught my eye. The countdown is ticking until January 1st when a new Arizona law making it illegal for employers to knowingly hire illegal immigrants goes into effect. Upon being caught the first time, the employer loses their business license for a year. The second time, their business license is revoked permanently. I think that this is a completely asinine law but instead of dwelling on why it is stupid and racist I would like to make some predictions:
The cost of construction will rise significantly. Any new roads or buildings will be delayed and go over budget. Retail sales and, hence, sales tax receipts will see a sharp decline across the board as illegal immigrants contribute significantly to the economy. The difference will be so stark that the coming national recession won't be enough to explain the decline. Some businesses such as fast food restuarants and used car lots will see even greater declines. Anyone who has even frequented any of these businesses in Texas can see that illegal immigrants are one of the main demographics which supports these establishments. Finally most of the illegal immigrants who live in Arizona will move not back to Mexico but to bordering states.
I am sure that I have only scratched the surface in predicting the economic fallout from this law. I have based my predictions not on conjecture but on what has actually happened to small towns that passed similar draconian laws against immigrants. Believe me when I say that Mexicans notice these laws as I have had several conversations with random strangers where they brought up the racism of Americans. Those racist bastards in Arizona deserve everything that is coming to them.
Another thing that has caught my eye in the news is the proposal of several of the leading Democratic candidates calling for health insurance mandates as the panacea for our ailing health care system. This is a bad idea. We would only be rewarding those who are primarily culpable for the mess we have today. I have read way to many articles about people with health insurance having to declare bankruptcy after an extended stay in the hospital, to trust the insurance industry to fix our health care system. Any functional solution we come up with will have to cut out the insurance middleman. It would also have to focus on preventative healthcare rather than reactionary healthcare where we wait for people to get sick before we treat them. Early diagnosis of cancer, among other illnesses, increases the likelihood of survival and decreases the cost of treatment.
I also noticed that Congress recently passed a new energy bill that called for a huge increase in ethanol production. While part of the bill calls for an increase in research into producing ethanol from biowaste, which is laudable, the vast majority of the increase will come from ethanol produced from corn. This amounts to another massive government handout to corporations such as A.D.M. Moreover, this will lead to an increase in food prices across the board as farmers will plant corn instead of other crops while trying to meet this artificially created demand. It should be noted that arable land is scarce because we keep on paving over more of it while creating car-dependant suburbia. I am tired of reading about these pie-in-the-sky, technological solutions to our petroleum addiction and global warming. The only way to fix these problems is to reduce our demand: we should heavily tax gasoline and use the proceeds to build better public transportation systems. While we are at it, we should develop bicycle friendly transportation infrastructure as the bicycle is the only true zero-emission vehicle we will ever have besides our own two feet. If more people rode bikes, we would also see the added benefit of reducing obesity and cardiovascular related illnesses which significantly tax our health care system. Right now, I am in excellent cardiovascular shape and I have a single digit body fat percentage. I have several friends who have lost over a hundred pounds from regularly riding their bikes. Come on everyone, join the bicycle revolution.
Day 75 kt:81.5 ta:3093 gps: N 18 degrees 20.825' W 99 degrees 32.086'
The state of Morelos is not very large as I entered it yesterday and left it today. It is noticable hotter as well as more humid in the lower altitudes where I am. The gnats and mosquitos love the heat as it no longer gets cold enough at night to drive them away. This is not to say that there aren't any mountains here. There are, they are just smaller. I haven't had to climb mountains in such heat since I left the northern part of the Chihuahuan desert.
I picked up some tourist pamphlets for the state of Guerrero, today. They only reinforced my decision to quickly pass through Zihuatenejo and Acupulco and enjoy the rest of the beaches of Guerrero. There are apparently a variety of virgin beaches where you can camp right along the beaches. I have no interest in staying in one of the four-star hotels in either Zihuatenejo or Acapulco. I, however, look forward to seeing nesting turtles and ancient stone carvings. The beaches of Guerrero also offer a variety of regional dishes which I can't wait to try. My mouth is watering already.
Day 76-80 kt:20.5 ta: 1291 gps: N 18 degrees 21.946' W 99 degrees 39.917'
I spent the last four days in the town of Iguala, Guerrero dealing with an attack of diarrhea. I really only had full-fledged diarrhea for one day but I stayed the extra days because my kidneys hurt and I wanted to make a full recovery before I hit the mountains. Diarrhea is something to be taken very seriously here: it can be indicative of a more serious illness and can kill by itself because it causes dehydration. I have had much worse cases of diarrhea in Mexico, before. During the Day of the Dead in 2004( also known as election day in the U.S.) I had an attack of food poisoning that caused me to purge food out of both ends and lasted for three days. To combat diarrhea, one must drink a lot of water and find food which they can stomach. The very thought of eating meat or dairy when you have a bad case of diarrhea will make your stomach turn. I find that dry foods such as saltines and amaranth bars are the best things to eat. You generally have to force yourself to eat because you probably won't have an appetite. If the symptoms last for more than three days, check yourself into a hospital because you probably have something more serious than a mere case of food poisoning.
The town of Iguala is not a very interesting place for a tourist. It has about 300,000 residents, according to a local, but about all of the businesses shut down after 6:00 p.m. as if it only had 3,000. I have read but not corroborated that the Mexican flag flying on the edge of the city is the largest flag in all of Latin America. It is pretty big and you can see it from far away on all sides of the city.
I didn't do much when I was in Iguala other than stay in my hotel room and watch movies. I ventured out occasionally to surf the internet or buy food and water. The hotel where I stayed at had a very basic cable package so I had a lot of movies to choose from both in English with Spanish subtitles and dubbed in Spanish. Some of the translations in the subtitles are laughable. My favorite translation was when the translator translated pussy cat in vagina. Vagina is vagina in Spanish. It was one of those jokes with a double meaning that was completely lost in translation. This same movie had a scene where the main character goes to Belize and the soldiers there are speaking Spanish. In case yall didn't know, Belize was a British colony until 1973 and English is the official language there. This just reinforced my opinion that Americans are culturally ignorant.
I took my time leaving the city, today for I did not want to overexert myself while coming off of a sickness and riding into the heat. The mountains are not as high as other parts of the country but the climbs are much more challenging because it is about 30 degrees hotter. I drank and sweated out more water while climbing 10 kilometers, today, than I often do while riding 50 kilometers. I expect more of the same while going towards the coast as most of Guerrero is covered in mountains. Hell, I expect more of the same all the way to Colombia.
Day 81 kt:42.2 ta: 3946 gps: N 18 degrees 21.393' W 99 degrees 50.891'
I spent another day climbing hills all day in the somniloquent heat. Just about every time I found a shady spot, I took a nap. I like naps and they keep me from overheating. The heat definitely slows me down. I am going to be moving slowly all the way towards the coast as the place is called "Tierra Caliente" or "Hot Land".
Day 82 kt:75 ta: 2413 gps: N 18 degrees 19.300' W 100 degrees 17.912'
What goes up must come down, or so they say. I got to enjoy a long stretch of descent today after some initial climbing. This was definitely nice because it was hot and steamy. Suffice to say, I believe I have officially left the part of the country where it is ever cold. I had a scare today when a bus passed me with about two feet to spare when I was descending a mountain. I was moving a 50 kph and two feet is nothing at that speed. I had almost no margin of error and I was almost forced off the road. If I was forced off the road at that speed, I would almost definitely die, with or without a helmet. At least the driver honked before bullying his way past me. This is not the first near-death encounter I have had on the road and it probably won't be the last.
I could have travelled farther today, but I am a sociable person and probably spent at least an hour talking with people who were curious about my journey. I spent another hour and a half in an internet cafe in Arcelia, Guerrero and found myself racing the sunset to find a decent campsite. I was lucky to find a flat, well-obscured campsite just off the side of the road. At just over 1,100 feet, I am pretty sure that this is the lowest point I have been at in all of Mexico. I expect to sweat in my sleep, tonight.
Day 83 kt:54.3 ta: 1061 gps: N 18 degrees 20.011' W 100 degrees 41.330'
I enjoyed another happily lazy day, today. Finding shade is more than enough of an excuse to rest. Someone told me, today, that this is actually the hottest part of the country. I am inclined to believe this.
If this isn't the hottest part of the country it is, at the very least, the most uncomfortable part of the country when you combine the heat, humidity, and swarming insects. Gnats and mosquitos aren't a problem in the dry desert. The mosquitos aren't as bad as the gnats which swarm you as you come to a rest anywhere. To call the gnats evil or even to use the superlative "most evil" is an understatement. You really don't do them justice unless you describe them as the most evil motherfucking bastards the universe has ever spawned." This is not hyperbole. Tomorrow, I am going to wear my full-length bicycle tights despite the heat because the gnats are that bad.
Today, while approaching the town of Tlapehuala, Guerrero, I saw what could very well be the largest carved head in the world. It dwarfs any of the Olmec heads or the giant heads of Easter Island. It is a giant head about 60 or 70 feet tall sculpted in the guise of Lazaro Cardenas upon his death in 1977. Lazaro Cardenas is the former president responsible for nationalizing Mexico's oil industry and is revered by all. To put this reverence in context, I don't think that there are any statues of Jesus or La Virgin de Guadalupe that come even close to the size of this head.
Day 84 kt: 50.9 ta:3413 gps: N 18 degrees 08.914' W 100 degrees 56.451'
There is a discrepancy between what my GPS and map tell me is the distance to Zihuatenejo and what the signs in Ciudad Altamirano said. It is a difference of 100 kilometers. Unfortunately, I think there are still 200 instead of 100 kilometers.
While I was riding through a small village, that is not on my map or GPS, looking for food, I happened upon a party with band and food and everything. Being that I was ravished, I endured the stares of just about everyone so I could eat something. I was definitely an oddity being the only guero and definitely the only person who rode my bike there. I am used to people staring at me, anyway. It turns out that the party was for a little girl that just got baptized today, though you wouldn't know it from all the debauchery that was going on. As is the case with most religious holidays here, it is really just an excuse to get fucked up. Almost all the men were piss drunk and everybody was dancing to Musica Durranguense which is essentially just Norteño music as Durango is a state in the northern part of Mexico. The men eventually got me to dance with a girl even though I don't like dancing to Norteño with strangers because of the proximity involved. I even drank a little beer. It was literally a little bottle of Corona that even said "Coronita" on the label. ¡Que lindo!
Day 85 kt:33.9 ta:3139 gps: N 18 degrees 01.422' W 101 degrees 06.795'
By the time that I wake up, it will be a new year. While many people in the U.S. will be partying, I will be sleeping. I guess my resolution this year is to be a little bit braver about flirting with beautiful women.
I saw some pretty exotic birds today, but, as birds are pretty elusive creatures, I did not get any pictures. One was blue and yellow but was not a parrot and the other was brown and had a long tail.
Day 86 kt:60.6 ta: 3576 gps: 17 degrees 51.697' W 101 degrees 22.704'
I don't think that I have mentioned it but Guerrero is one of the drug trafficking hot spots of Mexico. Last year, narcotraficantes threw a couple of decapitated heads of police officers into the police headquarters in Acapulco.
I met someone, today, who I would consider a victim of the drug war but who the government considers to be a criminal menace. He served 16 years in prison for transporting 700 kilograms of cocaine. Granted, this is a whole truckload of cocaine but the heavies transport boatloads of cocaine. He was not the boss, just the person who transported the merchandise. All one had to do was look around to see that he wasn't lying about this. I counted at least 9 people in the extended family who shared a two-room shack constructed from discarded wood and metal roof shingles. Moreover, two of the women were noticably pregnant. There is no plumbing or electricity in this stretch of highway. The family was sharing a meager breakfast of tortillas and the Mexican equivalent of parmesan cheese. Despite their poverty, they shared their breakfast with me and I accepted as I consider it rude to decline people's generosity. As far as I can tell, the only ways to make money in these parts are by selling sodas and chips to those passing by on their way to Zihuatenejo and through drug trafficking. It is no wonder that many people choose drug trafficking because these people are lucky to make $5 after subtracting the cost of the products they sell as very few people pass by these parts.
The man, who will remain anonymous in respect to him and his family told me that there are many people who get busted with truckloads of cocaine without ever knowing the true contents of their cargo. The transaction usually goes something like this: the owner of a "transportation" company approaches said person and tells them that their driver is sick and ask them to transport their cargo which is usually disguised as something legitimate. The narcotraficantes can pay them less than someone who knew what the cargo was. Moreover, if the driver gets busted with the drugs, he is usually too afraid of reprisal to point the authorities towards the man who contracted them. The man who contracts the driver is usually a leutenant and not a heavy, anyway. Many innocent men have fallen victim to this scheme.
The man was resentful of the 16 years he had to serve in prison especially when there are those close to power who he termed "intocable" or untouchable. He mentioned, of course, the brother of former president Carlos Salinas who was strangled to death in his car 3 and a half years ago and the sons-in-law of former president Vicente Fox. These are not entirely baseless accusations as I have read the same in the Mexican press. When Carlos Salinas's brother was killed, there was a blown up picture of the strangled corpse on the front page of the news the very next day. The article did mention that the murder was probably drug related but I doubt the government ever did a follow up investigation.
I had to move on, though I wanted to listen to this man some more as he spoke from a perspective that I can only imagine.
Further down the road, I happened upon the aftermath of a cockfight. I was attracted by the commotion as I usually don't see suck a large group of people gathered in one place in the countryside. There, on the ground, lay two dead roosters. I did not get to see the champion as the owner had already left with his rooster and his winnings. It should be mentioned that, personally, I consider cockfighting to be cruel, but I was not about to lecture 20 grown men, some of whom had been drinking, about the evils of animal cruelty. Anyway, it is not like they just throw the roosters away. They cook them and eat them. The owner of the house offered me cocaine but I graciously refused explaining that my father was a drug addict and that it was probable that I have a genetic predilection towards cocaine addiction. Moreover, as I have never tried cocaine, I did not want to have an overdose many miles from any kind of medical facility. I told the owner that I was hungry and asked if I could have some food. He was happy to have something to offer me. After I had stuffed myself and tried to offer remuneration, the owner's wife refused payment. I thanked them profusely and went on my way.
The owner of the house where they had the cockfight asked me a question which I have heard many times before: Why don't Americans want Mexicans in the United States? I grow weary of apologizing for my countrymen. The answer is complicated but I have decided to simplify it. My response: most Americans are racist and jealously guard their wealth. I think that these people understand that not all of us are like that as I am a white American who has gone through the trouble of learning Spanish. I guess that I am an ambassador of good will for my country. There are, however, few people like me and lots of people who fear and hate Mexicans in my country.
I finally topped out the mountains and got to descend for about 40 kilometers. There were several times when donkeys got in the way when I was hauling ass. I almost killed myself laughing when one almost fell down while running from me. I should make it to the coast, tomorrow.
I
I ended up staying in Mexico City one more day because I didn't want to hurry to do my errands: I needed to buy new gloves, burn my photos to a C.D., and mail my photos and Christmas presents for my mom to Austin. Moreover, I wanted to party with Edgar one last time before I left the city. I even drank a little alcohol, though, not quite as much as Edgar who fell off his bike twice while we were riding back to his house from the party. I woke up late and didn't actually leave Edgar's house until 2:30 p.m.
Leaving Mexico City is, thus far, the hardest thing that I have had to do. My actual departure was a very poignant moment. The whole Medina family gathered in front of their house so we could all take pictures together. I tried to hold back tears but ended up crying under my sunglasses. I am really going to miss all of my friends and the Medina family. I am very seriously considering moving back to Mexico City when my journey is over. At the very least, I am going to have to find more time to visit.
I barely made it out of the city because I had to make a few stops. Upon looking at my rear rim, I noticed that there are cracks where the spokes and spoke nipples connect. As the right-sized rims are impossible to find in el D.F.( Believe me, I tried), I had to use another ghetto-rig solution: I used metal epoxy paste to seal the cracks. Right now, my rim is straight and the cracks seem to be well sealed so I am hoping to make it, at least, far enough to replace my rim. I am just going to have to ask around in every city that I ride through. I honestly think that the epoxy paste will hold for a while though I am prepared to ride on my rear rim until my wheel explodes.
My campsite is in the mountains between Mexico City and Cuernavaca, Morelos. I am going to have to get myself back into my nomadic lifestyle. Hopefully, having a warm bed and shower hasn't made me fat and weak.
Day 74 kt:80.8 ta:2198 gps: N 18 degrees 45.849' W 99 degrees 14.342'
My first twenty kilometers of the day was all spent climbing. The rest was all descent. Whee!! I descended over 6,000 feet, passing through Cuernavaca on the way towards a town called Iguala, Guerrero where I will turn off towards Zihuatenejo, Guerrero. Morelos is the state that Emiliano Zapata is from and where he started his rebellion against the Mexican government. I have set up my campsite on a hill overlooking a prison and a Mexican suburb. If you think that American suburbs are monotonous, you should see a Mexican suburb.
I have not gone on one of my political rants in a while but I have seen some things in the news that have caught my eye. The countdown is ticking until January 1st when a new Arizona law making it illegal for employers to knowingly hire illegal immigrants goes into effect. Upon being caught the first time, the employer loses their business license for a year. The second time, their business license is revoked permanently. I think that this is a completely asinine law but instead of dwelling on why it is stupid and racist I would like to make some predictions:
The cost of construction will rise significantly. Any new roads or buildings will be delayed and go over budget. Retail sales and, hence, sales tax receipts will see a sharp decline across the board as illegal immigrants contribute significantly to the economy. The difference will be so stark that the coming national recession won't be enough to explain the decline. Some businesses such as fast food restuarants and used car lots will see even greater declines. Anyone who has even frequented any of these businesses in Texas can see that illegal immigrants are one of the main demographics which supports these establishments. Finally most of the illegal immigrants who live in Arizona will move not back to Mexico but to bordering states.
I am sure that I have only scratched the surface in predicting the economic fallout from this law. I have based my predictions not on conjecture but on what has actually happened to small towns that passed similar draconian laws against immigrants. Believe me when I say that Mexicans notice these laws as I have had several conversations with random strangers where they brought up the racism of Americans. Those racist bastards in Arizona deserve everything that is coming to them.
Another thing that has caught my eye in the news is the proposal of several of the leading Democratic candidates calling for health insurance mandates as the panacea for our ailing health care system. This is a bad idea. We would only be rewarding those who are primarily culpable for the mess we have today. I have read way to many articles about people with health insurance having to declare bankruptcy after an extended stay in the hospital, to trust the insurance industry to fix our health care system. Any functional solution we come up with will have to cut out the insurance middleman. It would also have to focus on preventative healthcare rather than reactionary healthcare where we wait for people to get sick before we treat them. Early diagnosis of cancer, among other illnesses, increases the likelihood of survival and decreases the cost of treatment.
I also noticed that Congress recently passed a new energy bill that called for a huge increase in ethanol production. While part of the bill calls for an increase in research into producing ethanol from biowaste, which is laudable, the vast majority of the increase will come from ethanol produced from corn. This amounts to another massive government handout to corporations such as A.D.M. Moreover, this will lead to an increase in food prices across the board as farmers will plant corn instead of other crops while trying to meet this artificially created demand. It should be noted that arable land is scarce because we keep on paving over more of it while creating car-dependant suburbia. I am tired of reading about these pie-in-the-sky, technological solutions to our petroleum addiction and global warming. The only way to fix these problems is to reduce our demand: we should heavily tax gasoline and use the proceeds to build better public transportation systems. While we are at it, we should develop bicycle friendly transportation infrastructure as the bicycle is the only true zero-emission vehicle we will ever have besides our own two feet. If more people rode bikes, we would also see the added benefit of reducing obesity and cardiovascular related illnesses which significantly tax our health care system. Right now, I am in excellent cardiovascular shape and I have a single digit body fat percentage. I have several friends who have lost over a hundred pounds from regularly riding their bikes. Come on everyone, join the bicycle revolution.
Day 75 kt:81.5 ta:3093 gps: N 18 degrees 20.825' W 99 degrees 32.086'
The state of Morelos is not very large as I entered it yesterday and left it today. It is noticable hotter as well as more humid in the lower altitudes where I am. The gnats and mosquitos love the heat as it no longer gets cold enough at night to drive them away. This is not to say that there aren't any mountains here. There are, they are just smaller. I haven't had to climb mountains in such heat since I left the northern part of the Chihuahuan desert.
I picked up some tourist pamphlets for the state of Guerrero, today. They only reinforced my decision to quickly pass through Zihuatenejo and Acupulco and enjoy the rest of the beaches of Guerrero. There are apparently a variety of virgin beaches where you can camp right along the beaches. I have no interest in staying in one of the four-star hotels in either Zihuatenejo or Acapulco. I, however, look forward to seeing nesting turtles and ancient stone carvings. The beaches of Guerrero also offer a variety of regional dishes which I can't wait to try. My mouth is watering already.
Day 76-80 kt:20.5 ta: 1291 gps: N 18 degrees 21.946' W 99 degrees 39.917'
I spent the last four days in the town of Iguala, Guerrero dealing with an attack of diarrhea. I really only had full-fledged diarrhea for one day but I stayed the extra days because my kidneys hurt and I wanted to make a full recovery before I hit the mountains. Diarrhea is something to be taken very seriously here: it can be indicative of a more serious illness and can kill by itself because it causes dehydration. I have had much worse cases of diarrhea in Mexico, before. During the Day of the Dead in 2004( also known as election day in the U.S.) I had an attack of food poisoning that caused me to purge food out of both ends and lasted for three days. To combat diarrhea, one must drink a lot of water and find food which they can stomach. The very thought of eating meat or dairy when you have a bad case of diarrhea will make your stomach turn. I find that dry foods such as saltines and amaranth bars are the best things to eat. You generally have to force yourself to eat because you probably won't have an appetite. If the symptoms last for more than three days, check yourself into a hospital because you probably have something more serious than a mere case of food poisoning.
The town of Iguala is not a very interesting place for a tourist. It has about 300,000 residents, according to a local, but about all of the businesses shut down after 6:00 p.m. as if it only had 3,000. I have read but not corroborated that the Mexican flag flying on the edge of the city is the largest flag in all of Latin America. It is pretty big and you can see it from far away on all sides of the city.
I didn't do much when I was in Iguala other than stay in my hotel room and watch movies. I ventured out occasionally to surf the internet or buy food and water. The hotel where I stayed at had a very basic cable package so I had a lot of movies to choose from both in English with Spanish subtitles and dubbed in Spanish. Some of the translations in the subtitles are laughable. My favorite translation was when the translator translated pussy cat in vagina. Vagina is vagina in Spanish. It was one of those jokes with a double meaning that was completely lost in translation. This same movie had a scene where the main character goes to Belize and the soldiers there are speaking Spanish. In case yall didn't know, Belize was a British colony until 1973 and English is the official language there. This just reinforced my opinion that Americans are culturally ignorant.
I took my time leaving the city, today for I did not want to overexert myself while coming off of a sickness and riding into the heat. The mountains are not as high as other parts of the country but the climbs are much more challenging because it is about 30 degrees hotter. I drank and sweated out more water while climbing 10 kilometers, today, than I often do while riding 50 kilometers. I expect more of the same while going towards the coast as most of Guerrero is covered in mountains. Hell, I expect more of the same all the way to Colombia.
Day 81 kt:42.2 ta: 3946 gps: N 18 degrees 21.393' W 99 degrees 50.891'
I spent another day climbing hills all day in the somniloquent heat. Just about every time I found a shady spot, I took a nap. I like naps and they keep me from overheating. The heat definitely slows me down. I am going to be moving slowly all the way towards the coast as the place is called "Tierra Caliente" or "Hot Land".
Day 82 kt:75 ta: 2413 gps: N 18 degrees 19.300' W 100 degrees 17.912'
What goes up must come down, or so they say. I got to enjoy a long stretch of descent today after some initial climbing. This was definitely nice because it was hot and steamy. Suffice to say, I believe I have officially left the part of the country where it is ever cold. I had a scare today when a bus passed me with about two feet to spare when I was descending a mountain. I was moving a 50 kph and two feet is nothing at that speed. I had almost no margin of error and I was almost forced off the road. If I was forced off the road at that speed, I would almost definitely die, with or without a helmet. At least the driver honked before bullying his way past me. This is not the first near-death encounter I have had on the road and it probably won't be the last.
I could have travelled farther today, but I am a sociable person and probably spent at least an hour talking with people who were curious about my journey. I spent another hour and a half in an internet cafe in Arcelia, Guerrero and found myself racing the sunset to find a decent campsite. I was lucky to find a flat, well-obscured campsite just off the side of the road. At just over 1,100 feet, I am pretty sure that this is the lowest point I have been at in all of Mexico. I expect to sweat in my sleep, tonight.
Day 83 kt:54.3 ta: 1061 gps: N 18 degrees 20.011' W 100 degrees 41.330'
I enjoyed another happily lazy day, today. Finding shade is more than enough of an excuse to rest. Someone told me, today, that this is actually the hottest part of the country. I am inclined to believe this.
If this isn't the hottest part of the country it is, at the very least, the most uncomfortable part of the country when you combine the heat, humidity, and swarming insects. Gnats and mosquitos aren't a problem in the dry desert. The mosquitos aren't as bad as the gnats which swarm you as you come to a rest anywhere. To call the gnats evil or even to use the superlative "most evil" is an understatement. You really don't do them justice unless you describe them as the most evil motherfucking bastards the universe has ever spawned." This is not hyperbole. Tomorrow, I am going to wear my full-length bicycle tights despite the heat because the gnats are that bad.
Today, while approaching the town of Tlapehuala, Guerrero, I saw what could very well be the largest carved head in the world. It dwarfs any of the Olmec heads or the giant heads of Easter Island. It is a giant head about 60 or 70 feet tall sculpted in the guise of Lazaro Cardenas upon his death in 1977. Lazaro Cardenas is the former president responsible for nationalizing Mexico's oil industry and is revered by all. To put this reverence in context, I don't think that there are any statues of Jesus or La Virgin de Guadalupe that come even close to the size of this head.
Day 84 kt: 50.9 ta:3413 gps: N 18 degrees 08.914' W 100 degrees 56.451'
There is a discrepancy between what my GPS and map tell me is the distance to Zihuatenejo and what the signs in Ciudad Altamirano said. It is a difference of 100 kilometers. Unfortunately, I think there are still 200 instead of 100 kilometers.
While I was riding through a small village, that is not on my map or GPS, looking for food, I happened upon a party with band and food and everything. Being that I was ravished, I endured the stares of just about everyone so I could eat something. I was definitely an oddity being the only guero and definitely the only person who rode my bike there. I am used to people staring at me, anyway. It turns out that the party was for a little girl that just got baptized today, though you wouldn't know it from all the debauchery that was going on. As is the case with most religious holidays here, it is really just an excuse to get fucked up. Almost all the men were piss drunk and everybody was dancing to Musica Durranguense which is essentially just Norteño music as Durango is a state in the northern part of Mexico. The men eventually got me to dance with a girl even though I don't like dancing to Norteño with strangers because of the proximity involved. I even drank a little beer. It was literally a little bottle of Corona that even said "Coronita" on the label. ¡Que lindo!
Day 85 kt:33.9 ta:3139 gps: N 18 degrees 01.422' W 101 degrees 06.795'
By the time that I wake up, it will be a new year. While many people in the U.S. will be partying, I will be sleeping. I guess my resolution this year is to be a little bit braver about flirting with beautiful women.
I saw some pretty exotic birds today, but, as birds are pretty elusive creatures, I did not get any pictures. One was blue and yellow but was not a parrot and the other was brown and had a long tail.
Day 86 kt:60.6 ta: 3576 gps: 17 degrees 51.697' W 101 degrees 22.704'
I don't think that I have mentioned it but Guerrero is one of the drug trafficking hot spots of Mexico. Last year, narcotraficantes threw a couple of decapitated heads of police officers into the police headquarters in Acapulco.
I met someone, today, who I would consider a victim of the drug war but who the government considers to be a criminal menace. He served 16 years in prison for transporting 700 kilograms of cocaine. Granted, this is a whole truckload of cocaine but the heavies transport boatloads of cocaine. He was not the boss, just the person who transported the merchandise. All one had to do was look around to see that he wasn't lying about this. I counted at least 9 people in the extended family who shared a two-room shack constructed from discarded wood and metal roof shingles. Moreover, two of the women were noticably pregnant. There is no plumbing or electricity in this stretch of highway. The family was sharing a meager breakfast of tortillas and the Mexican equivalent of parmesan cheese. Despite their poverty, they shared their breakfast with me and I accepted as I consider it rude to decline people's generosity. As far as I can tell, the only ways to make money in these parts are by selling sodas and chips to those passing by on their way to Zihuatenejo and through drug trafficking. It is no wonder that many people choose drug trafficking because these people are lucky to make $5 after subtracting the cost of the products they sell as very few people pass by these parts.
The man, who will remain anonymous in respect to him and his family told me that there are many people who get busted with truckloads of cocaine without ever knowing the true contents of their cargo. The transaction usually goes something like this: the owner of a "transportation" company approaches said person and tells them that their driver is sick and ask them to transport their cargo which is usually disguised as something legitimate. The narcotraficantes can pay them less than someone who knew what the cargo was. Moreover, if the driver gets busted with the drugs, he is usually too afraid of reprisal to point the authorities towards the man who contracted them. The man who contracts the driver is usually a leutenant and not a heavy, anyway. Many innocent men have fallen victim to this scheme.
The man was resentful of the 16 years he had to serve in prison especially when there are those close to power who he termed "intocable" or untouchable. He mentioned, of course, the brother of former president Carlos Salinas who was strangled to death in his car 3 and a half years ago and the sons-in-law of former president Vicente Fox. These are not entirely baseless accusations as I have read the same in the Mexican press. When Carlos Salinas's brother was killed, there was a blown up picture of the strangled corpse on the front page of the news the very next day. The article did mention that the murder was probably drug related but I doubt the government ever did a follow up investigation.
I had to move on, though I wanted to listen to this man some more as he spoke from a perspective that I can only imagine.
Further down the road, I happened upon the aftermath of a cockfight. I was attracted by the commotion as I usually don't see suck a large group of people gathered in one place in the countryside. There, on the ground, lay two dead roosters. I did not get to see the champion as the owner had already left with his rooster and his winnings. It should be mentioned that, personally, I consider cockfighting to be cruel, but I was not about to lecture 20 grown men, some of whom had been drinking, about the evils of animal cruelty. Anyway, it is not like they just throw the roosters away. They cook them and eat them. The owner of the house offered me cocaine but I graciously refused explaining that my father was a drug addict and that it was probable that I have a genetic predilection towards cocaine addiction. Moreover, as I have never tried cocaine, I did not want to have an overdose many miles from any kind of medical facility. I told the owner that I was hungry and asked if I could have some food. He was happy to have something to offer me. After I had stuffed myself and tried to offer remuneration, the owner's wife refused payment. I thanked them profusely and went on my way.
The owner of the house where they had the cockfight asked me a question which I have heard many times before: Why don't Americans want Mexicans in the United States? I grow weary of apologizing for my countrymen. The answer is complicated but I have decided to simplify it. My response: most Americans are racist and jealously guard their wealth. I think that these people understand that not all of us are like that as I am a white American who has gone through the trouble of learning Spanish. I guess that I am an ambassador of good will for my country. There are, however, few people like me and lots of people who fear and hate Mexicans in my country.
I finally topped out the mountains and got to descend for about 40 kilometers. There were several times when donkeys got in the way when I was hauling ass. I almost killed myself laughing when one almost fell down while running from me. I should make it to the coast, tomorrow.
I
Monday, December 17, 2007
I Love Mexico City
Day 60-71 I stayed in Mexico City
People might wonder, with all the crime, traffic, and pollution, why I love Mexico City as much as I do. The answer is simple. This city is filled with so many wonderful, amazing, talented, and beautiful people. It is overflowing with culture. I would even go so far as to say that it is the cultural capital of Mexico. All the musical acts throughout the country have to come here and perform if they even want to have a modicum of success in the rest of the country. Mexico City, has been the home of many famous artists including Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, David Alfaro Siqueiros, and José Clemente Orozco to name a few.
There is huge amount of art and amazing architecture in every corner of the city. One only has to go la Ciudad Universitaría (C.U.), as the U.N.A.M. campus is called, to see some of the most impressive murals in the world. The library there is even covered in murals on all sides made entirely from rocks that were collected from all parts of Mexico. One of my favorite places in C.U. is the Espacio Escultorico. It is a natural park area with massive sculptures which sculptures that you can climb and walk all over. Though there are many impressive works of art and architecture in C.U., you would have to spend many days exploring the city to see all of the notable artistic and architectural monuments that abound in this city.
I had the priveledge of seeing some very good music when I was in the city these last two weeks. One group was from Xalapa, Veracruz. Their name is Sonex and they play Son Jarocho fusion mixed with elements of hip-hop and flamenco. Another group named Paté de Fua had an Argentinian frontman with all Mexican musicians. They play a mixture of tango and jazz blended with various other Latin elements. My friend Edgar plays in a band called Los Malditos Hippies. They play a mixture of ska, reggae, and cumbia. Edgar also plays in a Mexican hardcore band called Cannabis Cerdos. All of the above bands can be found on myspace if you would like to listen to any of them. There are many talented musicians that call Mexico City their home.
There are so many incredible museums here that you could spend months exploring all of them. Among some of the more notable museums are the National Anthropology Museum, the National Museum of Art, and the National History Museum. I have been to al of those museums before so I decided to visit one of the more obscure museums when I was here. Last Thursday, Edgar and I rode our bikes to the Museum of Torture. This museum houses some truly horrifying instruments of torture with notes in both English and Spanish about their uses. One of the more interesting things that is at the museum are the shackles and chain in which Christopher Columbus was brought back to Spain after his third voyage to the New World. Among some of the more interesting things I learned was that it would often take days for someone who had been impaled to die, for, though the spear would go through the anus all the way to the mouth, it would miss most of the vital organs. Often, the spear would even have a rounded point so it would take longer to pierce through the body. I left the museum impressed with the ingenuity that people have when it comes to conceiving new forms of cruelty to perpetrate against their fellow brothers and sisters. I think that most of humanity is good but that there are some really evil motherfuckers out there. The problem we have is that, throughout history and today, many of these evil motherfuckers happen to be in positions of power.
I stayed with La Familía Medina during my stay here in Mexico. They have been the most wonderful and gracious hosts. They have fed me and let me stay here rent-free for two weeks. Whenever I would wash dishes to help out they would always insist that I leave them in the sink. Both parents are retired. Their son Edgar, who I have already mentioned, is a very talented guitarist as well as musician in general. Their daughter Idania, designs costumes and acts in a theater group which I also had the priveledge of seeing perform. Luis Fernando, the nephew who lives with them is eight-years-old and enjoys swimming and playing the trumpet. Bidel, the daughter of Idania is the newest addition to the family. She is cute as the dickens and is the princess of the house. La Familía Medina shares their house with five cats, and three dogs so, as one might imagine, it is quite a zoo.
I spent most of my time here hanging out with Edgar going to parties, museums, lucha libre, etc... It seems like Edgar knows everyone in the city because whereever we went we would run into friends of his. Now is the time of the posadas or Christmas parties and one can find parties in the streets of Mexico where everyone is dancing to salsas and cumbias and where there are free food and drinks. Techno is still pretty popular at parties thrown by college aged people here. Though I don't like techno quite as much as I like cumbias and salsa, I still had a good time at the parties because I met many beautiful women. I swear, it seems like every woman here between the ages of 15 and 35 is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. After leaving one of these parties I witnessed further proof that the cab drivers here are insane. The cab driver who gave us a ride home pulled Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine. When my friends and I got in the cab, he was calm and polite. He drove patiently and chatted with us about various subjects. As soon as someone cut him off though, he was a different person. He rolled down his window, cursed the driver out, and then proceeded to drive a lot more aggressively: he started driving a lot faster and flew over speed bumps to the point where we had to hold on tight or risk injury. I guess Mexico City drivers would have that effect on anyone because I definitely found myself cursing people out when they didn't give me enough respect on the road.
The lucha libre matches here are a cultural phenomenon that are worth witnessing. The luchadores are much like American wrestlers except even more over-the-top. They still have the staged battles between the good and bad guys or the technicos and rudos as they are called, respectively, only the moves are more acrobatic. It is not uncommon to see the luchadores flying over the ropes, out of the ring, and hurling into their opponents below. If someone removes the mask of a masked luchador they will lie face-down on the ground motionless as if their source of power has been stolen from them. My favorite match was between three dwarfs and three normal-sized people. Though the matches are obviously staged, I couldn't help but be impressed with the athleticism of the luchadores. You have to know how to fall and roll to be a successful luchador.
I have done quite a bit of shopping during my stay here in Mexico. While electronic equipment is more expensive here, just about everything else here is less expensive. You can buy pirated C.D.s, D.V.D.s, software, clothing, etc... Most of the pirated goods are sold by ambulantes as the street vendors are called. The ambulantes are a feisty bunch who often block roads and steal electricity from the city's power grid. They are known to have pitched battles with the police whenever they try to crack down on piracy. There is an advertising campaign by a conglomerate of companies that says that pirated goods are of lower quality than the originals but the sad truth is that the originals are not that much better. I have several pairs of pirated Adidas socks which I bought here over three years ago which still do not have any holes in them. I bought two pairs of full length bicycle tights for about $20 each. They would cost $100 in the United States.
Tepito is the center of ambulante culture. It is also known as one of the more dangerous parts of the city. In Tepito, you can buy D.V.D.s for 80 cents. You can buy drugs and guns. You can find hookers and contract hitmen for $1000. I have even seen tattoo stands on the street which I am sure are dirt cheap. Needless to say, I went to Tepito to do some shopping. I bought some $5 "Oakleys" and some C.D.s. The reality is that, during the day, your chances of getting shot are lower than they are in a mall in Nebraska. During the night though, a white boy would stick out like a flaming queen at an N.R.A. rally. I would never go to Tepito at night.
I did not go to Tepito to get my new tattoo. I, instead, went to a shop that Edgar took me to that was close to C.U. I still got a good deal. I now have a tattoo that covers my chest from nipple to nipple. It only cost me $200. The same tattoo would cost, at least, $1000 in the U.S. The artist, who goes by the name of Russo, took great care making sure that the conditions were sanitary. Don't ever let anyone tell you that tattoos don't hurt. Even after nine hours under the needle, the pain was barely tolerable. I had to bite down on tongue depressors and I would tremble in pain whenever Russo filled in the areas around my nipples or sternum. The pain was worth it, though. I now have a tattoo that is a mixture of Greek philosophy with the peyote inspired art of the Huichol Indians. My tattoo is an artistic rendition of the reunion of the four elements of earth, wind, water, and fire into the fifth or quintessential element which is life itself.
Those who know me well, know that I am a lover of the funny expressions that exist in language. I learned some funny ways to refer to sex during my stay here. If you want to say that you are about to have sex, you can say vamos a matar el oso (we are going to kill the bear) or vamos a ponerle Jorge al niño (we are going to put the Jorge on the child). Cops are commonly referred to as tira, chota, puercos, or cochinos. Coca-Cola is sometimes referred to as agua negra de los Yankee imperialistas. I even saw a bumber sticker that said Coca-Colonización. At a party, when I was having a conversation with Edgar, I told him that, in my religion, I dance as a form of worship. He then asked me what my religion was named. I was just joking around but, together, we invented the words ganjobiciclatolico and ganjobiciclatolicismo to name my religion. They are formed from the words ganja, bicicleta, and catolico which I don't think that I need to translate.
I am going to miss all of my old and new friends in Mexico City but, alas, it is time to move on. I will soon head to the Pacific coast of Mexico and then to Guatemala.
People might wonder, with all the crime, traffic, and pollution, why I love Mexico City as much as I do. The answer is simple. This city is filled with so many wonderful, amazing, talented, and beautiful people. It is overflowing with culture. I would even go so far as to say that it is the cultural capital of Mexico. All the musical acts throughout the country have to come here and perform if they even want to have a modicum of success in the rest of the country. Mexico City, has been the home of many famous artists including Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, David Alfaro Siqueiros, and José Clemente Orozco to name a few.
There is huge amount of art and amazing architecture in every corner of the city. One only has to go la Ciudad Universitaría (C.U.), as the U.N.A.M. campus is called, to see some of the most impressive murals in the world. The library there is even covered in murals on all sides made entirely from rocks that were collected from all parts of Mexico. One of my favorite places in C.U. is the Espacio Escultorico. It is a natural park area with massive sculptures which sculptures that you can climb and walk all over. Though there are many impressive works of art and architecture in C.U., you would have to spend many days exploring the city to see all of the notable artistic and architectural monuments that abound in this city.
I had the priveledge of seeing some very good music when I was in the city these last two weeks. One group was from Xalapa, Veracruz. Their name is Sonex and they play Son Jarocho fusion mixed with elements of hip-hop and flamenco. Another group named Paté de Fua had an Argentinian frontman with all Mexican musicians. They play a mixture of tango and jazz blended with various other Latin elements. My friend Edgar plays in a band called Los Malditos Hippies. They play a mixture of ska, reggae, and cumbia. Edgar also plays in a Mexican hardcore band called Cannabis Cerdos. All of the above bands can be found on myspace if you would like to listen to any of them. There are many talented musicians that call Mexico City their home.
There are so many incredible museums here that you could spend months exploring all of them. Among some of the more notable museums are the National Anthropology Museum, the National Museum of Art, and the National History Museum. I have been to al of those museums before so I decided to visit one of the more obscure museums when I was here. Last Thursday, Edgar and I rode our bikes to the Museum of Torture. This museum houses some truly horrifying instruments of torture with notes in both English and Spanish about their uses. One of the more interesting things that is at the museum are the shackles and chain in which Christopher Columbus was brought back to Spain after his third voyage to the New World. Among some of the more interesting things I learned was that it would often take days for someone who had been impaled to die, for, though the spear would go through the anus all the way to the mouth, it would miss most of the vital organs. Often, the spear would even have a rounded point so it would take longer to pierce through the body. I left the museum impressed with the ingenuity that people have when it comes to conceiving new forms of cruelty to perpetrate against their fellow brothers and sisters. I think that most of humanity is good but that there are some really evil motherfuckers out there. The problem we have is that, throughout history and today, many of these evil motherfuckers happen to be in positions of power.
I stayed with La Familía Medina during my stay here in Mexico. They have been the most wonderful and gracious hosts. They have fed me and let me stay here rent-free for two weeks. Whenever I would wash dishes to help out they would always insist that I leave them in the sink. Both parents are retired. Their son Edgar, who I have already mentioned, is a very talented guitarist as well as musician in general. Their daughter Idania, designs costumes and acts in a theater group which I also had the priveledge of seeing perform. Luis Fernando, the nephew who lives with them is eight-years-old and enjoys swimming and playing the trumpet. Bidel, the daughter of Idania is the newest addition to the family. She is cute as the dickens and is the princess of the house. La Familía Medina shares their house with five cats, and three dogs so, as one might imagine, it is quite a zoo.
I spent most of my time here hanging out with Edgar going to parties, museums, lucha libre, etc... It seems like Edgar knows everyone in the city because whereever we went we would run into friends of his. Now is the time of the posadas or Christmas parties and one can find parties in the streets of Mexico where everyone is dancing to salsas and cumbias and where there are free food and drinks. Techno is still pretty popular at parties thrown by college aged people here. Though I don't like techno quite as much as I like cumbias and salsa, I still had a good time at the parties because I met many beautiful women. I swear, it seems like every woman here between the ages of 15 and 35 is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. After leaving one of these parties I witnessed further proof that the cab drivers here are insane. The cab driver who gave us a ride home pulled Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine. When my friends and I got in the cab, he was calm and polite. He drove patiently and chatted with us about various subjects. As soon as someone cut him off though, he was a different person. He rolled down his window, cursed the driver out, and then proceeded to drive a lot more aggressively: he started driving a lot faster and flew over speed bumps to the point where we had to hold on tight or risk injury. I guess Mexico City drivers would have that effect on anyone because I definitely found myself cursing people out when they didn't give me enough respect on the road.
The lucha libre matches here are a cultural phenomenon that are worth witnessing. The luchadores are much like American wrestlers except even more over-the-top. They still have the staged battles between the good and bad guys or the technicos and rudos as they are called, respectively, only the moves are more acrobatic. It is not uncommon to see the luchadores flying over the ropes, out of the ring, and hurling into their opponents below. If someone removes the mask of a masked luchador they will lie face-down on the ground motionless as if their source of power has been stolen from them. My favorite match was between three dwarfs and three normal-sized people. Though the matches are obviously staged, I couldn't help but be impressed with the athleticism of the luchadores. You have to know how to fall and roll to be a successful luchador.
I have done quite a bit of shopping during my stay here in Mexico. While electronic equipment is more expensive here, just about everything else here is less expensive. You can buy pirated C.D.s, D.V.D.s, software, clothing, etc... Most of the pirated goods are sold by ambulantes as the street vendors are called. The ambulantes are a feisty bunch who often block roads and steal electricity from the city's power grid. They are known to have pitched battles with the police whenever they try to crack down on piracy. There is an advertising campaign by a conglomerate of companies that says that pirated goods are of lower quality than the originals but the sad truth is that the originals are not that much better. I have several pairs of pirated Adidas socks which I bought here over three years ago which still do not have any holes in them. I bought two pairs of full length bicycle tights for about $20 each. They would cost $100 in the United States.
Tepito is the center of ambulante culture. It is also known as one of the more dangerous parts of the city. In Tepito, you can buy D.V.D.s for 80 cents. You can buy drugs and guns. You can find hookers and contract hitmen for $1000. I have even seen tattoo stands on the street which I am sure are dirt cheap. Needless to say, I went to Tepito to do some shopping. I bought some $5 "Oakleys" and some C.D.s. The reality is that, during the day, your chances of getting shot are lower than they are in a mall in Nebraska. During the night though, a white boy would stick out like a flaming queen at an N.R.A. rally. I would never go to Tepito at night.
I did not go to Tepito to get my new tattoo. I, instead, went to a shop that Edgar took me to that was close to C.U. I still got a good deal. I now have a tattoo that covers my chest from nipple to nipple. It only cost me $200. The same tattoo would cost, at least, $1000 in the U.S. The artist, who goes by the name of Russo, took great care making sure that the conditions were sanitary. Don't ever let anyone tell you that tattoos don't hurt. Even after nine hours under the needle, the pain was barely tolerable. I had to bite down on tongue depressors and I would tremble in pain whenever Russo filled in the areas around my nipples or sternum. The pain was worth it, though. I now have a tattoo that is a mixture of Greek philosophy with the peyote inspired art of the Huichol Indians. My tattoo is an artistic rendition of the reunion of the four elements of earth, wind, water, and fire into the fifth or quintessential element which is life itself.
Those who know me well, know that I am a lover of the funny expressions that exist in language. I learned some funny ways to refer to sex during my stay here. If you want to say that you are about to have sex, you can say vamos a matar el oso (we are going to kill the bear) or vamos a ponerle Jorge al niño (we are going to put the Jorge on the child). Cops are commonly referred to as tira, chota, puercos, or cochinos. Coca-Cola is sometimes referred to as agua negra de los Yankee imperialistas. I even saw a bumber sticker that said Coca-Colonización. At a party, when I was having a conversation with Edgar, I told him that, in my religion, I dance as a form of worship. He then asked me what my religion was named. I was just joking around but, together, we invented the words ganjobiciclatolico and ganjobiciclatolicismo to name my religion. They are formed from the words ganja, bicicleta, and catolico which I don't think that I need to translate.
I am going to miss all of my old and new friends in Mexico City but, alas, it is time to move on. I will soon head to the Pacific coast of Mexico and then to Guatemala.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Climbing Mountains Hasta Chilangolandia
Day 44 kt:71.4 ta:2132 gps: N 22°46.490' W 102°34.283'
Day 45 I stayed in Zacatecas
Day 46 kt:52.1 ta:732 gps: N 22° 32.941' W 102°15.093'
After crossing the Tropic of Cancer, I have noticed a slight change in the ecosystem. It is still very much like a desert prairie but there seems to be more moisture and more trees. When I woke up on the day I went to Zacatecas, there was thick fog covering everything. It had not rained the night before but my tent was wet as if it had. The wind coming from the south had a very tropical humidity. It remained, more or less, overcast all day on the way to Zacatecas. Right when I arrived in the city, it began to rain and hail. Fortunately, I did not have to travel very far to get to the hostel in which I stayed.
Zacatecas is a cool, beautiful city. It was a silver mining city during the 18th and 19th century and its colonial wealth is evident in its architecture. There are many obviously old buildings here that were made by skilled artisans that were brought there by the silver barons of the time. The central city is covered with winding cobblestone streets which are clogged with traffic. This can make maneuvering through traffic quite difficult at times. Today, it is still a thriving city. It recieves a lot of tourism and it is a college town so there are lots of young, beautiful people and there is a night life here. One of the cooler things that happens here on a nightly basis is called a callejoneada. The name comes from the word callejon which means alley. The callejoneada is a wandering street party that comes complete with musicians and a donkey laden with mezcal. The party grows as it travels through the streets. I could definitely live in Zacatecas.
The place I stayed at is a wonderful place named Hostal Villa Colonial. It is smack dab in the middle of the city and has one of the better views of the town's cathedral from its rooftop terrace. It is affordable but nice and travellers come there from all over the world. The owner speaks Spanish and English and does his best to make everyone feel welcome. While staying there, I even met two other cyclists who were biking to Argentina: Sjaak from the Netherlands is biking from Alaska to Argentina and Ryan from Canada is biking from his home in Winnepeg to Argentina and possibly through Africa and Europe afterwards. I got contact information from both of them and I am hoping that we cross paths again for they both seem like pretty cool fellows.
I managed to get my bike repaired but with some difficulties as, again, no one seems to have the same size rims, wheels, tires, spokes, or innertubes as I have. Once I get to Mexico City, I am going to get my entire real wheel relaced with new spokes. In retrospect, I shouls have probably purchased a mountain bike because it is much easier to find replacement parts. I usually have to go to several bike shops before I can find what I need.
It was hard leaving the city and my new friends today, but, alas, that is the life of a nomad. I took my time leaving the city. When I finally left, I was happy to discover that it is mostly downhill or flat while leaving in the the direction of Aguascalienties, Aguascalientes. When I chose a place to set up camp outside of the city of Ojocaliente, Zacatecas I decided to hop a fence due to the lack of good places to stay. When I was sitting by my campfire, a man on horseback rode up to where I was. He didn't seem to mind at all when I told him I would leave in the morning and put out the fire. He shook my hand and then rode off. It is always easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.
I have added cow brains and cow blood to the list of different foods that I have tried. They are called sesos and moronga, respectively. I was also happy to find a woman that sold tamales and atole in the morning. She not only had champurrado but also had atole de guayaba or guava. It is quite delicious. I have been feasting of Mexican food for Thanksgiving.
This is the time of year when I normally spend time with family and friends but I am sitting in my campsite alone, right now. I miss all of my family and friends but I am not even remotely longing to go home. Every day is exciting and stimulating and I have never felt happier or more secure with myself before. Even the aches and the pains that I would feel in my body whenever it got cold have left me. I am in as good a shape as I have ever been. I feel rejuvenated and I don't want this trip to ever end.
Day 47 kt:95.1 ta:2336 kt:95.1 gps: N 21°46.952' W 102°16.857'
As far as I can tell, I have entered the agricultural heartland of Mexico. Ever since I started approaching Zacatecas, I have seen nothing but farmland. The towns seem to be getting bigger, too. The central part of Mexico is the most densly populated part of the country. Every town I pass through seems to have at least five thousand people living in it. This is nice for me because I have many more food options and I don't have to worry about running out of water.
I rode about 80 kilometers to Aguascalientes by 3:00 p.m. today so I had plenty of time to surf the internet and find food. Aguascalientes is a large city of over a million people. It seems to have a large industrial sector as I passed by a Nissan factory and several other large plants, today. It has malls, movie theaters, and everything that you would expect to find in an American city of the same size. This is not to say it is like an American city because it is very much a Mexican city. For a city its size, I found riding my bicycle through it to be quite pleasant. There seems to be plenty of space for bicyclists and I saw everyone from kids to old men riding bikes.
I am camped out on the southern edge of the city as I was unable to make it out of the large urban area. I found an abandoned building, which Mexico seems to have an abundance of, and set up my camp. I am well hidden from the road so I shouldn't be bothered by anyone, tonight.
Day 48 kt:68.1 ta:2634 gps:N 21°17.230' W 102° 00.182'
I lost some time, today, when I had to fix a flat. That comes to 11 flats thus far on my journey. It is all right, though, because every flat I fix is pennance for when I would so gleefully break glass bottles on the street when I was a kid. The flat terrain has been replaced by rolling hills, not unlike those of the Texas Hill Country. The wind was coming strong from the west. Some of the gusts of wind almost blew me into the highway. I am just happy that it wasn't a headwind because that would have made my day pretty hellish.I crossed into the state of Jalisco today and should cross into the state of Gaunajuato tomorrow.
I ended up taking the cuota road between Aguascalientes and Leon. This saved me money because there were limited places to stop. I have only eaten tuna melts, palenquetas, and até, today, for I have a ton of all of those items. I am just trying to lighten my load a little.
About an hour before sunset, I saw the perfect campsite on the side of the road. By perfect, I mean that it is close to the road, well obscured so I could have a fire, and on the leeward side of a hill, meaning the wind would not bother me. After seeing this, I decided it was time to stop because I could not pass up such a nice spot. The extra time before sunset gave me time to start studying my Portuguese-English dictionary. It is never too early to start preparing for my eventual Portuguese immersion.
I feel like I have come to master the rhythem of fire. I have started fires, without lighter fluid or paper as tender, in a variety of ecosystems. The dying embers of the fire I built tonight are keeping me warm as I write this entry in my journal. There is fire in my belly from the warm food I prepared and I can now pick up hot coals with my fingers without burning myself. I have tamed the flame.
Day 49 kt:54.6 ta:1600 gps: N 21°04.102' W 101°35.660'
I have really come to understand the meaning of highway robbery a lot better while being on the road. Mexicans seem to really take it to heart. There are places on the highway that seem to mark up the prices at least 60% from what you would expect to pay in the city. Because of this, I make my best efforts to buy all of my food and water in the cities now.
My appetite continues to astound me. At my most ravenous, I can eat more than three pregnant women combined. I learned, today, that I can, indeed, eat a whole chicken by myself with tortillas and salsa in one sitting. I figure that is more calories in one meal than the daily recommended amount for the average person. I should have eaten a lighter meal, though, because this made me feel sluggish and tired. I even felt kind of feverish, though, I can't say this is because of the chicken. I decided I would quit riding early and rest up for tomorrow.
Day 50 kt:92.6 ta:1861 gps: N 20°28.875' W 101°12.825'
It turns out that my fever was nothing that 12 hours of sleep couldn't cure. I felt fine this morning, though, I drank drank several liters of fresh squeezed orange juice as a precaution. The juice is getting cheaper as I ride south which pleases me a whole lot. When I lived in Mexico City, I probably drank 2 or 3 liters every day because it was so cheap.
I passed through Irapuato, Gaunajuato, the self-proclaimed strawberry capital of Mexico, today. Alongside the highways leading into the city from all directions, one will find hundreds of roadside stands selling fresas con crema. I did, indeed, indulge. I even brought some dried strawberries covered in chile for later. Mexicans and I would definitely agree that sweet stuff can be spicy. Those who have tried my habanero-chocolate covered strawberries can attest to that.
I decided to skip going to Gaunajuato City, today, even though I had a free place to stay because I spend money in the cities like I have a week to live. I am more interested in natural places than historic places, anyway. If I wanted to visit a historic place I would have ridden in the direction of Dolores Hidalgo, Guanajuato. This is the town where Father Miguel Hidalgo rang the church bell on September 16 , 1810 and issued a sermon to those who congretated known as the Grito de Dolores. This is essentially the Mexico Declaration of Independence from Spain.
Day 51 kt:101 ta:3945 N 19° 42.263' W 101°10.979'
This morning, I found some thorns embedded in my skin which I had not previously noticed. I then proceeded to dig them out with my knife. They could become infected and they cause a constant annoyance so I would rather endure the temporary pain of stabbing myself to remove foreign objects than leaving them as they were. This is not the first time that I have had to remove foreign objects from my skin and I am sure this problem will only get worse when I get to the jungle.
I have not seen like hills like the hills I climbed today since I left the Sierra Tarahumara. It is different here, though. I am definitely no longer in the desert. There seem to be a lot more jungle plants than cactus here. This is not to say that I am in the jungle because it is still pretty dry here. With that being said though, I can feel more humidity in the air and it is noticably warmer in the night even though I am at roughly the same altitude as before. I rewarded myself when I got to Morelia, Michoacan by renting a room and taking a shower. I should be well rested for tomorrow when I get to ride through an area they call Mil Cumbres. This translates to a thousand summits. Woo hoo! Fortunately I think this refers to the general area and not the road itself.
Since I have been passing through more cities, I have been having to deal a little more with those who see me as nothing but a walking, talking peso dispenser. I can tell their intentions almost immediately because they have a greedy look in their eyes when they look at me. It is similar to being eye-fucked and I feel pretty violated after receiving these looks. I usually just pretend that I am in a hurry and that I don't understand Spanish very well when I encounter these types of people ,though, I am not afraid to flash my teeth if I have to. I am happy to share stories of my adventures with those who are curious but I don't like being treated like a dumb gringo with money.
I worry that every time I go travelling, I cause some cosmic shift in the universe that leads to friends of mine getting hurt. When I rode my bike down the west coast in 2001, a friend of mine lost his leg in a motorcycle accident. This time, some friends of mine got hit by a drunk driver, though, they are relatively okay. Also one of my BMX heroes, a man named Jimmy Levan, had a skateboarding accident and was comatose for the last two weeks. He is, now, out of his coma and is recovering but his insurance doesn't pay for everything. He still owes a lot of money in medical bills and I wish him a full recovery. I have had the priveledge of meeting him and getting to hang out with him for a while and he is a very down-to- earth, likeable guy. He hasn't let being a superstar get to his head. I hope that this is the last bad thing that happens to any of my friends.
Day 52 kt:44.1 ta:3004 gps: N 19° 40.816' W 100°53.644'
I have added Morelia, Michoacan to the growing list of cities here in Mexico where I could live very comfortably. It is another beautiful colonial city nestled in the mountains. It,probably, has the best preserved aquaduct that I have seen in Mexico, thus far. There are lots of young,beautiful beautiful people here as it seems to have its fair share of universities. I fall in love with another Aztec goddess every day. The difference between Morelia and the other colonial towns that I have visited is that it is on the edge of the jungle.
The markets in Morelia are amazing, though, not necessarily more amazing than those in other cities. The farmer's markets in Austin are pretty pitiful compared to these markets. There are so many fruits and vegetables for sale here that you can only buy in Mexico. Mamey is probably my favorite fruit that can only be found here. For breakfast, I had two licuados de mamey to go with my two cups of cinammon atole and one cup of fresh-squeezed orange juice. I then finished that off with a quesadilla made with fresh tortillas mushrooms and chile peppers. For brunch, it was made with puerco adobado, which is a chile marinated pork; beans; avocado; and cheese. The lady who made the torta gave me some excellent fire-roasted tomato salsa to go with it. The food of Mexico is, alone, enough to make me consider never returning to the U.S. again. I would very happily live out the rest of my days exploring the markets with the Mexican abuelitas every morning and enjoying the flavors of Mexico.
Morelia is a wonderful city but I have to keep moving. I really, really want to see the monarchs. With that being said, I moved at a very leisurely pace today. Though the mountains here are as high as the Sierra Tarahumara, it is a very different ecosystem. There are probably more jungle plants than pine trees at lower elevations for these mountains receive a lot more precipitation. Once you reach an elevation above 8,000 feet it is mostly pine forrest but the pine trees are much bigger than in the Sierra Tarahumara.
About an hour and a half before sunset, I heard thunderstorms approaching so I hastily set up camp. Right after I set everything up, I witnessed the fiercest hail storm I have ever seen in my life. I did not see any golfball-sized hail but it hailed enough to make the ground look like it was covered in snow.
I am camped out at over 8,300 feet so it will be cold tonight and tomorrow morning. There is a large fallen, rotting pine tree close by so, in the morning, I will dig out some dry wood with my buck knife and attempt to make a fire. Man's ability to survive in the wild largely depends on his ability to make a fire in any weather condition. I hope that I didn't just accidentally plagiarize my "Army Field Guide to Survival".
Day 53 kt: 70.1 ta: 3134 N 19°45.337' W 100°41.309'
It was surprisingly not freezing cold this morning. My tent was unusually dry as well. I have woken up on days when it did not rain at all when my tent was wetter than it was this morning. With that being said, I still decided to test my incendiary skills out by building a fire to cook with. I found some dry tender and mostly dry wood covered in pine sap underneath the rotting tree. I then proceeded to coax fire out of the wood. It was not easy and I had to cheat by using toilet paper as tender, but I was able to cook a warm breakfast with my little fire. If this were truly a survival situation, I would already have a cache of dry fire wood set aside and protected from the elements. Because of this, I was pleased that I was able to make a fire at all.
I thought that I was close to the summit at 8,300 feet but I didn't top out until I reached 9,500 feet. The road wasn't in the greatest condition but it had a whole lot of race-track turns that lean to the side as you turn. I love these turns as it sometimes almost feels like you are riding horizontally on a wall. I, however, had to keep myself on a short leash when I say a sign that said grava suelta or loose gravel. Loose gravel can be deadly for a bicyclist. It will cause you to lose traction with the road just as easily as ice. When you are going 40 mph down a mountain, the last thing you want to see around a blind turn is loose gravel. Eventually, the gravelly road gave way to the smooth asphalt, so I got to get a little bit more fun in before it started raining.
Boy,did it rain. While I was stopped at a store around 2:00 p.m. buying water, the sky just opened up. I tried to wait it out but I eventually realized that the rain was not going to relent. It was time to dig out my rain gear from my bags and put it on for the very first time of my trip. I usually don't like to wear it unless the rain is heavy or cold because I can get quite hot while fully suited up. This rain was both heavy and cold so the use of my rain gear was more than justified. There was even a little hail, though nothing like last night. I never gave thanks for Thanksgiving so I just wanted to say that I am thankful for my waterproof boots, jacket, pants, jacket, gloves, and bags. I am thankful that I have a dry sleeping bag and dry socks so I can change out of my sweat-soaked socks at the end of the day.
Mexicans are wonderful people but horrible drivers. The number of crosses on the side of any Mexican highway will attest to that. I have ridden my bike on straight, one-mile stretches of road where you can see for miles in both directions and still seen dozens of crosses. The problem with drivers here is that they are just too aggressive. Today, when it was pouring and the streets were beginning to flood, I saw many people trying to pass slower moving traffic in front of them. Being that this was an undivided, two-lane highway, this pretty much pissed me off. I would usually hog the lane and angrily gesticulate that I wanted them to returen to their lane before I inevitably relented and allowed them to pass in this manner. I would like to see one of the crosses on the side of the road read, " Loved by all except this others on the road." because I know that a large number of these people probably died as a result of their own asinine driving.
I managed to make it to Los Azufres today which was nice because the hot springs were quite a treat after riding through the cold rain. You can see the steam rising from them as you approach on the road. I am camped out right next to a stream that is fed by these hot springs. I am hoping that this will make my campsite warmer as I am above 8,000 feet, again.
Day 54 kt:59.6 ta:3110 gps: N 19°37.229' W 100°16.807'
I made it to Angangueo by 2:30 p.m., today. After seeing the steep, rocky hill leading up to the butterfly sanctuary, I decided that it would be less trouble to leave my bike at the bottom and hike to the top. There were some curious onlookers watching me as I locked up my bike so I asked them if I could leave my stuff at their house and away I went. As usual, the sanctuary was a lot further than people had told me. Instead of being about 5 kilometers away, it was closer to ten. I managed to shorten my trip to the top by hitching two rides. Hitchhiking is easy here as most people with trucks are happy to offer a ride.
I managed to make it to the butterfly sanctuary with just enough time to hike the last two kilometers to see the monarchs. I am in exceptional condition and I just about killed the old man who was my guide/babysitter while we were hiking to the top. Fortunately, he seemed a bit more spry when we descended the trail.
The best time to go to the sanctuary is at noon and not in the late afternoon. At this time the clouds come in and it gets colder so the butterflies cluster together to conserve energy and stay warm. There were a few butterflies flying around but the vast majority weighed down the branches of the trees in their clusters. I was not able to use the flash in my camera or cross the barriers so I was, unfortunately, unable to take any good pictures of the butterflies.
By the time I left the sanctuary, there was only about half and hour of sunlight left. I tried to get a ride down to Angangueo but I scoffed at the $30 the man wanted to take me down the ten kilometers into town. For $30 I can buy a lot of food. I was not as lucky hitching a ride to the bottom as no one was going down to Angangueo at night. I had to walk all the way to the bottom by myself. It was well past dark when I arrived at the place where I left my bike. The family that lived at the house where I left my bike was very nice and helpful. They invited me inside for dinner and showed me where I could find an affordable hotel. I was very grateful as I was very hungry and worried about where I would sleep because it looked like a thunderstorm was approaching.
Day 55 ta:2788 kt:41.5 gps: N 19°27.030' W 100°14.220'
I am not one that buys the religion that others are selling but if I were buying I would buy the religion with more tradition and better architecture. I have not seen a single church in the United States that comes close to equalling the ornate architecture that every single church in central Mexico seems to have. Just about every town in this part of the country has a church that is at least 200 years old and was constructed by skilled artisans. If you want to sleep in, tough shit because all of the churches here ring their bells early in the morning. This is a tradition that harkens back to the colonial times when they would ring their bells calling all of the Indians to morning mass. The friars would whip those who were tardy. Now that is effective proselytization.
As usual, whenever I rent a room, I don't leave town until the early afternoon. Going from Angangueo to San Felipe, there is a large downhill stretch. I played leapfrog with a big rig until I reached this stretch of highway. I would pass it at all of the speedbumps and it would pass me going uphill until I finally obliterated my competition on the long, steep descent. When I waved hello to the driver at the bottom of the hill where there was an intersection, the driver gave me a loud honk of approval.
The rest of my day was all uphill and I decided to quit riding about 2 hours before sunset so I could rest my weary calves. They were aching from the 20 kilometers of mountain hiking I did the day before. I can ride my bike all day long but I used a different set of muscles for all of my hiking.
I saw something today that would make a vegan cringe. Hell, it would probably make a lot of meat-eaters cringe. While I was resting at a convenience store next to someone's house, I saw a butcher come and slaughter a sheep right there, about three feet away from me. He drove up in his truck, chatted and joked around with the family for a while, and then killed the sheep. He perfuctorily grabbed the sheep and turned it over on its back, stabbed in the throat with a small knife, and then stabbed in in the brain through the same hole with a larger knife. It seemed like he had done this a thousand times before because the whole process lasted only a few seconds. The sheep even had a death twitch as it kept kicking the sides of the truck while the butcher paid the family. I think that I could kill an animal for food though I would do it a lot more squeemishly than the butcher did.
Day 56 kt:82.8 ta:3909 gps: N 19°17.163' W 99°36.134'
From Zitácuaro, Michoacan to the border of el Estado de Mexico, it is about 30 kilometers of pure ascent. I was ecstatic when I finally got to go downhill some. I am in Toluca, Estado de Mexico, right now, and I shoud be able to make to my friend's house well before sunset tomorrow. I am so excited that I get to see my friends.
I saw something that I found quite amusing, today. There was a little girl, not much older than eight years old, who brought an empty forty ounce malt liquor bottle to a convenience store for a deposit and then, promptly, bought a new one. She was probably buying this for some one who was older but that shit wouldn't fly in Texas.
There are some unexpected hazards of the roadway here in Mexico. Today, I had to dodge a loose spare tire and I have had to avoid the shrapnel from an exploding semi tire, before. Hopefully, there will be no more unexpected obstacles in my journey.
Day 57 kt:74.5 ta:2766 gps: N 19°14.702' W 99°07.637'
Day 58-62 I stayed in Mexico City
When I woke up in Toluca, there was a frost covering everything:my tent, my bags, the grass, etc... It was only after the fact that I found out that Toluca is the highest city in the republic. There are small towns that are at a higher altitude but not any large cities. The field where I was camped out at was at an altitude of 8,500 feet. It's funny but it did not seem that cold to me. Maybe, I have grown accustomed to these higher altitudes. I was even wearing my shorts by 9:00 a.m. This was a mistake for, by the time I had reached the top of the mountain range between Toluca and Mexico City, I had reached an altitude of 10,200 feet. I had flirted with 10,000 feet several times in the Sierra Tarahumara and Mil Cumbres mountain ranges but this was the first time that I reached the official 10,000 foot mark. The cold mountain wind was blowing hard. This inspired me to out on my sweater, gloves, ninja mask, and wool cap for the long descent into Mexico City. Needless to say, the ride down the mountain was very fast and took a lot less time than the ride up the mountain.
I knew when I had reached Mexico City because I started passing the traffic rather than the other way around. It is pretty much gridlocked from about 15 kilometers out of the the official city limits all the way through the city. I have compiled a list of rules for navigating the city for those who have not undergone the baptism by fire:
1.)A red light is only a suggestion. Most people do not seem to think that it implies a mandatory stop.
2.)If you are in the far right or far left lane and you want to continue straight ahead, watch out. I have seen people cut across five lanes of traffic to make a turn.
3.)Give the taxi and bus drivers as much space as possible. They are fucking crazy! They regularly execute maneuvers that would make a Nascar driver shit his pants. If you see someone in front of you flagging them down, watch out, because they won't hesitate to cut you off with inches to spare.
4.)Do not let yourself become aggravated. This will only make the situation worse. Chilangos, as Mexico City residents are called, are notoriously impatient. They completely overuse their horns. It is not uncommon to hear someone use their horns for 2 or 3 minutes straight. You have to somehow block out the horns and develop a zen-like acceptance that you are only going to move at a snail's pace.
5.)Pay attention!!! The moment you blink you could lose your life. Drivers here will run you over without stopping.
Trying to fix my bike here in Mexico can be beyond frustrating. I rode all over the city travelling to many bike shops looking for spokes. I probably went to about ten different shops asking if they had the right sized spokes only to be turned away. One shop in the central city even sold me the wrong sized spokes. I am determined to get my bike fixed. Si se puede.
Yesterday, I was happy to see that the same naked protestors that were here when I lived here before are still here. Now, they play drums and dance while wearing Vicente Fox and Carlos Salinas masks. The protests seem to be largely ignored but at least they are entertaining.
I am so happy that I ride a bicycle and not a car. Between the protests and the random road blocks there seems to always be a long detour for the drivers. I swear, sometimes the police here set up roadblocks for their shear amusement. I blithely ignore all of the roadblocks and go whereever I want. The police let bicyclists do whatever they want to do.
Day 45 I stayed in Zacatecas
Day 46 kt:52.1 ta:732 gps: N 22° 32.941' W 102°15.093'
After crossing the Tropic of Cancer, I have noticed a slight change in the ecosystem. It is still very much like a desert prairie but there seems to be more moisture and more trees. When I woke up on the day I went to Zacatecas, there was thick fog covering everything. It had not rained the night before but my tent was wet as if it had. The wind coming from the south had a very tropical humidity. It remained, more or less, overcast all day on the way to Zacatecas. Right when I arrived in the city, it began to rain and hail. Fortunately, I did not have to travel very far to get to the hostel in which I stayed.
Zacatecas is a cool, beautiful city. It was a silver mining city during the 18th and 19th century and its colonial wealth is evident in its architecture. There are many obviously old buildings here that were made by skilled artisans that were brought there by the silver barons of the time. The central city is covered with winding cobblestone streets which are clogged with traffic. This can make maneuvering through traffic quite difficult at times. Today, it is still a thriving city. It recieves a lot of tourism and it is a college town so there are lots of young, beautiful people and there is a night life here. One of the cooler things that happens here on a nightly basis is called a callejoneada. The name comes from the word callejon which means alley. The callejoneada is a wandering street party that comes complete with musicians and a donkey laden with mezcal. The party grows as it travels through the streets. I could definitely live in Zacatecas.
The place I stayed at is a wonderful place named Hostal Villa Colonial. It is smack dab in the middle of the city and has one of the better views of the town's cathedral from its rooftop terrace. It is affordable but nice and travellers come there from all over the world. The owner speaks Spanish and English and does his best to make everyone feel welcome. While staying there, I even met two other cyclists who were biking to Argentina: Sjaak from the Netherlands is biking from Alaska to Argentina and Ryan from Canada is biking from his home in Winnepeg to Argentina and possibly through Africa and Europe afterwards. I got contact information from both of them and I am hoping that we cross paths again for they both seem like pretty cool fellows.
I managed to get my bike repaired but with some difficulties as, again, no one seems to have the same size rims, wheels, tires, spokes, or innertubes as I have. Once I get to Mexico City, I am going to get my entire real wheel relaced with new spokes. In retrospect, I shouls have probably purchased a mountain bike because it is much easier to find replacement parts. I usually have to go to several bike shops before I can find what I need.
It was hard leaving the city and my new friends today, but, alas, that is the life of a nomad. I took my time leaving the city. When I finally left, I was happy to discover that it is mostly downhill or flat while leaving in the the direction of Aguascalienties, Aguascalientes. When I chose a place to set up camp outside of the city of Ojocaliente, Zacatecas I decided to hop a fence due to the lack of good places to stay. When I was sitting by my campfire, a man on horseback rode up to where I was. He didn't seem to mind at all when I told him I would leave in the morning and put out the fire. He shook my hand and then rode off. It is always easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.
I have added cow brains and cow blood to the list of different foods that I have tried. They are called sesos and moronga, respectively. I was also happy to find a woman that sold tamales and atole in the morning. She not only had champurrado but also had atole de guayaba or guava. It is quite delicious. I have been feasting of Mexican food for Thanksgiving.
This is the time of year when I normally spend time with family and friends but I am sitting in my campsite alone, right now. I miss all of my family and friends but I am not even remotely longing to go home. Every day is exciting and stimulating and I have never felt happier or more secure with myself before. Even the aches and the pains that I would feel in my body whenever it got cold have left me. I am in as good a shape as I have ever been. I feel rejuvenated and I don't want this trip to ever end.
Day 47 kt:95.1 ta:2336 kt:95.1 gps: N 21°46.952' W 102°16.857'
As far as I can tell, I have entered the agricultural heartland of Mexico. Ever since I started approaching Zacatecas, I have seen nothing but farmland. The towns seem to be getting bigger, too. The central part of Mexico is the most densly populated part of the country. Every town I pass through seems to have at least five thousand people living in it. This is nice for me because I have many more food options and I don't have to worry about running out of water.
I rode about 80 kilometers to Aguascalientes by 3:00 p.m. today so I had plenty of time to surf the internet and find food. Aguascalientes is a large city of over a million people. It seems to have a large industrial sector as I passed by a Nissan factory and several other large plants, today. It has malls, movie theaters, and everything that you would expect to find in an American city of the same size. This is not to say it is like an American city because it is very much a Mexican city. For a city its size, I found riding my bicycle through it to be quite pleasant. There seems to be plenty of space for bicyclists and I saw everyone from kids to old men riding bikes.
I am camped out on the southern edge of the city as I was unable to make it out of the large urban area. I found an abandoned building, which Mexico seems to have an abundance of, and set up my camp. I am well hidden from the road so I shouldn't be bothered by anyone, tonight.
Day 48 kt:68.1 ta:2634 gps:N 21°17.230' W 102° 00.182'
I lost some time, today, when I had to fix a flat. That comes to 11 flats thus far on my journey. It is all right, though, because every flat I fix is pennance for when I would so gleefully break glass bottles on the street when I was a kid. The flat terrain has been replaced by rolling hills, not unlike those of the Texas Hill Country. The wind was coming strong from the west. Some of the gusts of wind almost blew me into the highway. I am just happy that it wasn't a headwind because that would have made my day pretty hellish.I crossed into the state of Jalisco today and should cross into the state of Gaunajuato tomorrow.
I ended up taking the cuota road between Aguascalientes and Leon. This saved me money because there were limited places to stop. I have only eaten tuna melts, palenquetas, and até, today, for I have a ton of all of those items. I am just trying to lighten my load a little.
About an hour before sunset, I saw the perfect campsite on the side of the road. By perfect, I mean that it is close to the road, well obscured so I could have a fire, and on the leeward side of a hill, meaning the wind would not bother me. After seeing this, I decided it was time to stop because I could not pass up such a nice spot. The extra time before sunset gave me time to start studying my Portuguese-English dictionary. It is never too early to start preparing for my eventual Portuguese immersion.
I feel like I have come to master the rhythem of fire. I have started fires, without lighter fluid or paper as tender, in a variety of ecosystems. The dying embers of the fire I built tonight are keeping me warm as I write this entry in my journal. There is fire in my belly from the warm food I prepared and I can now pick up hot coals with my fingers without burning myself. I have tamed the flame.
Day 49 kt:54.6 ta:1600 gps: N 21°04.102' W 101°35.660'
I have really come to understand the meaning of highway robbery a lot better while being on the road. Mexicans seem to really take it to heart. There are places on the highway that seem to mark up the prices at least 60% from what you would expect to pay in the city. Because of this, I make my best efforts to buy all of my food and water in the cities now.
My appetite continues to astound me. At my most ravenous, I can eat more than three pregnant women combined. I learned, today, that I can, indeed, eat a whole chicken by myself with tortillas and salsa in one sitting. I figure that is more calories in one meal than the daily recommended amount for the average person. I should have eaten a lighter meal, though, because this made me feel sluggish and tired. I even felt kind of feverish, though, I can't say this is because of the chicken. I decided I would quit riding early and rest up for tomorrow.
Day 50 kt:92.6 ta:1861 gps: N 20°28.875' W 101°12.825'
It turns out that my fever was nothing that 12 hours of sleep couldn't cure. I felt fine this morning, though, I drank drank several liters of fresh squeezed orange juice as a precaution. The juice is getting cheaper as I ride south which pleases me a whole lot. When I lived in Mexico City, I probably drank 2 or 3 liters every day because it was so cheap.
I passed through Irapuato, Gaunajuato, the self-proclaimed strawberry capital of Mexico, today. Alongside the highways leading into the city from all directions, one will find hundreds of roadside stands selling fresas con crema. I did, indeed, indulge. I even brought some dried strawberries covered in chile for later. Mexicans and I would definitely agree that sweet stuff can be spicy. Those who have tried my habanero-chocolate covered strawberries can attest to that.
I decided to skip going to Gaunajuato City, today, even though I had a free place to stay because I spend money in the cities like I have a week to live. I am more interested in natural places than historic places, anyway. If I wanted to visit a historic place I would have ridden in the direction of Dolores Hidalgo, Guanajuato. This is the town where Father Miguel Hidalgo rang the church bell on September 16 , 1810 and issued a sermon to those who congretated known as the Grito de Dolores. This is essentially the Mexico Declaration of Independence from Spain.
Day 51 kt:101 ta:3945 N 19° 42.263' W 101°10.979'
This morning, I found some thorns embedded in my skin which I had not previously noticed. I then proceeded to dig them out with my knife. They could become infected and they cause a constant annoyance so I would rather endure the temporary pain of stabbing myself to remove foreign objects than leaving them as they were. This is not the first time that I have had to remove foreign objects from my skin and I am sure this problem will only get worse when I get to the jungle.
I have not seen like hills like the hills I climbed today since I left the Sierra Tarahumara. It is different here, though. I am definitely no longer in the desert. There seem to be a lot more jungle plants than cactus here. This is not to say that I am in the jungle because it is still pretty dry here. With that being said though, I can feel more humidity in the air and it is noticably warmer in the night even though I am at roughly the same altitude as before. I rewarded myself when I got to Morelia, Michoacan by renting a room and taking a shower. I should be well rested for tomorrow when I get to ride through an area they call Mil Cumbres. This translates to a thousand summits. Woo hoo! Fortunately I think this refers to the general area and not the road itself.
Since I have been passing through more cities, I have been having to deal a little more with those who see me as nothing but a walking, talking peso dispenser. I can tell their intentions almost immediately because they have a greedy look in their eyes when they look at me. It is similar to being eye-fucked and I feel pretty violated after receiving these looks. I usually just pretend that I am in a hurry and that I don't understand Spanish very well when I encounter these types of people ,though, I am not afraid to flash my teeth if I have to. I am happy to share stories of my adventures with those who are curious but I don't like being treated like a dumb gringo with money.
I worry that every time I go travelling, I cause some cosmic shift in the universe that leads to friends of mine getting hurt. When I rode my bike down the west coast in 2001, a friend of mine lost his leg in a motorcycle accident. This time, some friends of mine got hit by a drunk driver, though, they are relatively okay. Also one of my BMX heroes, a man named Jimmy Levan, had a skateboarding accident and was comatose for the last two weeks. He is, now, out of his coma and is recovering but his insurance doesn't pay for everything. He still owes a lot of money in medical bills and I wish him a full recovery. I have had the priveledge of meeting him and getting to hang out with him for a while and he is a very down-to- earth, likeable guy. He hasn't let being a superstar get to his head. I hope that this is the last bad thing that happens to any of my friends.
Day 52 kt:44.1 ta:3004 gps: N 19° 40.816' W 100°53.644'
I have added Morelia, Michoacan to the growing list of cities here in Mexico where I could live very comfortably. It is another beautiful colonial city nestled in the mountains. It,probably, has the best preserved aquaduct that I have seen in Mexico, thus far. There are lots of young,beautiful beautiful people here as it seems to have its fair share of universities. I fall in love with another Aztec goddess every day. The difference between Morelia and the other colonial towns that I have visited is that it is on the edge of the jungle.
The markets in Morelia are amazing, though, not necessarily more amazing than those in other cities. The farmer's markets in Austin are pretty pitiful compared to these markets. There are so many fruits and vegetables for sale here that you can only buy in Mexico. Mamey is probably my favorite fruit that can only be found here. For breakfast, I had two licuados de mamey to go with my two cups of cinammon atole and one cup of fresh-squeezed orange juice. I then finished that off with a quesadilla made with fresh tortillas mushrooms and chile peppers. For brunch, it was made with puerco adobado, which is a chile marinated pork; beans; avocado; and cheese. The lady who made the torta gave me some excellent fire-roasted tomato salsa to go with it. The food of Mexico is, alone, enough to make me consider never returning to the U.S. again. I would very happily live out the rest of my days exploring the markets with the Mexican abuelitas every morning and enjoying the flavors of Mexico.
Morelia is a wonderful city but I have to keep moving. I really, really want to see the monarchs. With that being said, I moved at a very leisurely pace today. Though the mountains here are as high as the Sierra Tarahumara, it is a very different ecosystem. There are probably more jungle plants than pine trees at lower elevations for these mountains receive a lot more precipitation. Once you reach an elevation above 8,000 feet it is mostly pine forrest but the pine trees are much bigger than in the Sierra Tarahumara.
About an hour and a half before sunset, I heard thunderstorms approaching so I hastily set up camp. Right after I set everything up, I witnessed the fiercest hail storm I have ever seen in my life. I did not see any golfball-sized hail but it hailed enough to make the ground look like it was covered in snow.
I am camped out at over 8,300 feet so it will be cold tonight and tomorrow morning. There is a large fallen, rotting pine tree close by so, in the morning, I will dig out some dry wood with my buck knife and attempt to make a fire. Man's ability to survive in the wild largely depends on his ability to make a fire in any weather condition. I hope that I didn't just accidentally plagiarize my "Army Field Guide to Survival".
Day 53 kt: 70.1 ta: 3134 N 19°45.337' W 100°41.309'
It was surprisingly not freezing cold this morning. My tent was unusually dry as well. I have woken up on days when it did not rain at all when my tent was wetter than it was this morning. With that being said, I still decided to test my incendiary skills out by building a fire to cook with. I found some dry tender and mostly dry wood covered in pine sap underneath the rotting tree. I then proceeded to coax fire out of the wood. It was not easy and I had to cheat by using toilet paper as tender, but I was able to cook a warm breakfast with my little fire. If this were truly a survival situation, I would already have a cache of dry fire wood set aside and protected from the elements. Because of this, I was pleased that I was able to make a fire at all.
I thought that I was close to the summit at 8,300 feet but I didn't top out until I reached 9,500 feet. The road wasn't in the greatest condition but it had a whole lot of race-track turns that lean to the side as you turn. I love these turns as it sometimes almost feels like you are riding horizontally on a wall. I, however, had to keep myself on a short leash when I say a sign that said grava suelta or loose gravel. Loose gravel can be deadly for a bicyclist. It will cause you to lose traction with the road just as easily as ice. When you are going 40 mph down a mountain, the last thing you want to see around a blind turn is loose gravel. Eventually, the gravelly road gave way to the smooth asphalt, so I got to get a little bit more fun in before it started raining.
Boy,did it rain. While I was stopped at a store around 2:00 p.m. buying water, the sky just opened up. I tried to wait it out but I eventually realized that the rain was not going to relent. It was time to dig out my rain gear from my bags and put it on for the very first time of my trip. I usually don't like to wear it unless the rain is heavy or cold because I can get quite hot while fully suited up. This rain was both heavy and cold so the use of my rain gear was more than justified. There was even a little hail, though nothing like last night. I never gave thanks for Thanksgiving so I just wanted to say that I am thankful for my waterproof boots, jacket, pants, jacket, gloves, and bags. I am thankful that I have a dry sleeping bag and dry socks so I can change out of my sweat-soaked socks at the end of the day.
Mexicans are wonderful people but horrible drivers. The number of crosses on the side of any Mexican highway will attest to that. I have ridden my bike on straight, one-mile stretches of road where you can see for miles in both directions and still seen dozens of crosses. The problem with drivers here is that they are just too aggressive. Today, when it was pouring and the streets were beginning to flood, I saw many people trying to pass slower moving traffic in front of them. Being that this was an undivided, two-lane highway, this pretty much pissed me off. I would usually hog the lane and angrily gesticulate that I wanted them to returen to their lane before I inevitably relented and allowed them to pass in this manner. I would like to see one of the crosses on the side of the road read, " Loved by all except this others on the road." because I know that a large number of these people probably died as a result of their own asinine driving.
I managed to make it to Los Azufres today which was nice because the hot springs were quite a treat after riding through the cold rain. You can see the steam rising from them as you approach on the road. I am camped out right next to a stream that is fed by these hot springs. I am hoping that this will make my campsite warmer as I am above 8,000 feet, again.
Day 54 kt:59.6 ta:3110 gps: N 19°37.229' W 100°16.807'
I made it to Angangueo by 2:30 p.m., today. After seeing the steep, rocky hill leading up to the butterfly sanctuary, I decided that it would be less trouble to leave my bike at the bottom and hike to the top. There were some curious onlookers watching me as I locked up my bike so I asked them if I could leave my stuff at their house and away I went. As usual, the sanctuary was a lot further than people had told me. Instead of being about 5 kilometers away, it was closer to ten. I managed to shorten my trip to the top by hitching two rides. Hitchhiking is easy here as most people with trucks are happy to offer a ride.
I managed to make it to the butterfly sanctuary with just enough time to hike the last two kilometers to see the monarchs. I am in exceptional condition and I just about killed the old man who was my guide/babysitter while we were hiking to the top. Fortunately, he seemed a bit more spry when we descended the trail.
The best time to go to the sanctuary is at noon and not in the late afternoon. At this time the clouds come in and it gets colder so the butterflies cluster together to conserve energy and stay warm. There were a few butterflies flying around but the vast majority weighed down the branches of the trees in their clusters. I was not able to use the flash in my camera or cross the barriers so I was, unfortunately, unable to take any good pictures of the butterflies.
By the time I left the sanctuary, there was only about half and hour of sunlight left. I tried to get a ride down to Angangueo but I scoffed at the $30 the man wanted to take me down the ten kilometers into town. For $30 I can buy a lot of food. I was not as lucky hitching a ride to the bottom as no one was going down to Angangueo at night. I had to walk all the way to the bottom by myself. It was well past dark when I arrived at the place where I left my bike. The family that lived at the house where I left my bike was very nice and helpful. They invited me inside for dinner and showed me where I could find an affordable hotel. I was very grateful as I was very hungry and worried about where I would sleep because it looked like a thunderstorm was approaching.
Day 55 ta:2788 kt:41.5 gps: N 19°27.030' W 100°14.220'
I am not one that buys the religion that others are selling but if I were buying I would buy the religion with more tradition and better architecture. I have not seen a single church in the United States that comes close to equalling the ornate architecture that every single church in central Mexico seems to have. Just about every town in this part of the country has a church that is at least 200 years old and was constructed by skilled artisans. If you want to sleep in, tough shit because all of the churches here ring their bells early in the morning. This is a tradition that harkens back to the colonial times when they would ring their bells calling all of the Indians to morning mass. The friars would whip those who were tardy. Now that is effective proselytization.
As usual, whenever I rent a room, I don't leave town until the early afternoon. Going from Angangueo to San Felipe, there is a large downhill stretch. I played leapfrog with a big rig until I reached this stretch of highway. I would pass it at all of the speedbumps and it would pass me going uphill until I finally obliterated my competition on the long, steep descent. When I waved hello to the driver at the bottom of the hill where there was an intersection, the driver gave me a loud honk of approval.
The rest of my day was all uphill and I decided to quit riding about 2 hours before sunset so I could rest my weary calves. They were aching from the 20 kilometers of mountain hiking I did the day before. I can ride my bike all day long but I used a different set of muscles for all of my hiking.
I saw something today that would make a vegan cringe. Hell, it would probably make a lot of meat-eaters cringe. While I was resting at a convenience store next to someone's house, I saw a butcher come and slaughter a sheep right there, about three feet away from me. He drove up in his truck, chatted and joked around with the family for a while, and then killed the sheep. He perfuctorily grabbed the sheep and turned it over on its back, stabbed in the throat with a small knife, and then stabbed in in the brain through the same hole with a larger knife. It seemed like he had done this a thousand times before because the whole process lasted only a few seconds. The sheep even had a death twitch as it kept kicking the sides of the truck while the butcher paid the family. I think that I could kill an animal for food though I would do it a lot more squeemishly than the butcher did.
Day 56 kt:82.8 ta:3909 gps: N 19°17.163' W 99°36.134'
From Zitácuaro, Michoacan to the border of el Estado de Mexico, it is about 30 kilometers of pure ascent. I was ecstatic when I finally got to go downhill some. I am in Toluca, Estado de Mexico, right now, and I shoud be able to make to my friend's house well before sunset tomorrow. I am so excited that I get to see my friends.
I saw something that I found quite amusing, today. There was a little girl, not much older than eight years old, who brought an empty forty ounce malt liquor bottle to a convenience store for a deposit and then, promptly, bought a new one. She was probably buying this for some one who was older but that shit wouldn't fly in Texas.
There are some unexpected hazards of the roadway here in Mexico. Today, I had to dodge a loose spare tire and I have had to avoid the shrapnel from an exploding semi tire, before. Hopefully, there will be no more unexpected obstacles in my journey.
Day 57 kt:74.5 ta:2766 gps: N 19°14.702' W 99°07.637'
Day 58-62 I stayed in Mexico City
When I woke up in Toluca, there was a frost covering everything:my tent, my bags, the grass, etc... It was only after the fact that I found out that Toluca is the highest city in the republic. There are small towns that are at a higher altitude but not any large cities. The field where I was camped out at was at an altitude of 8,500 feet. It's funny but it did not seem that cold to me. Maybe, I have grown accustomed to these higher altitudes. I was even wearing my shorts by 9:00 a.m. This was a mistake for, by the time I had reached the top of the mountain range between Toluca and Mexico City, I had reached an altitude of 10,200 feet. I had flirted with 10,000 feet several times in the Sierra Tarahumara and Mil Cumbres mountain ranges but this was the first time that I reached the official 10,000 foot mark. The cold mountain wind was blowing hard. This inspired me to out on my sweater, gloves, ninja mask, and wool cap for the long descent into Mexico City. Needless to say, the ride down the mountain was very fast and took a lot less time than the ride up the mountain.
I knew when I had reached Mexico City because I started passing the traffic rather than the other way around. It is pretty much gridlocked from about 15 kilometers out of the the official city limits all the way through the city. I have compiled a list of rules for navigating the city for those who have not undergone the baptism by fire:
1.)A red light is only a suggestion. Most people do not seem to think that it implies a mandatory stop.
2.)If you are in the far right or far left lane and you want to continue straight ahead, watch out. I have seen people cut across five lanes of traffic to make a turn.
3.)Give the taxi and bus drivers as much space as possible. They are fucking crazy! They regularly execute maneuvers that would make a Nascar driver shit his pants. If you see someone in front of you flagging them down, watch out, because they won't hesitate to cut you off with inches to spare.
4.)Do not let yourself become aggravated. This will only make the situation worse. Chilangos, as Mexico City residents are called, are notoriously impatient. They completely overuse their horns. It is not uncommon to hear someone use their horns for 2 or 3 minutes straight. You have to somehow block out the horns and develop a zen-like acceptance that you are only going to move at a snail's pace.
5.)Pay attention!!! The moment you blink you could lose your life. Drivers here will run you over without stopping.
Trying to fix my bike here in Mexico can be beyond frustrating. I rode all over the city travelling to many bike shops looking for spokes. I probably went to about ten different shops asking if they had the right sized spokes only to be turned away. One shop in the central city even sold me the wrong sized spokes. I am determined to get my bike fixed. Si se puede.
Yesterday, I was happy to see that the same naked protestors that were here when I lived here before are still here. Now, they play drums and dance while wearing Vicente Fox and Carlos Salinas masks. The protests seem to be largely ignored but at least they are entertaining.
I am so happy that I ride a bicycle and not a car. Between the protests and the random road blocks there seems to always be a long detour for the drivers. I swear, sometimes the police here set up roadblocks for their shear amusement. I blithely ignore all of the roadblocks and go whereever I want. The police let bicyclists do whatever they want to do.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
From Saltillo to Zacatecas
Day 35 I rested in Saltillo. By rested, I mean that I rode my bike all over the city without my gear.
Day 36 kt:55.8 ta:1853 gps:N 24 degrees 59.181' W 101 degrees 04.954'
When I woke up in Saltillo, I discovered that my rear tire had deflated, again. Patches are only a temporary solution. They should only be used to get you to the next city if you are touring. Since I was in the city, I used my last innertube.
Waking up with the sun is great when you are on the road but not so great when you are in the city. I found a bike shop, laundromat, and an internet cafè, all before they were even open. I probably rode around in circles for about two hours before any of these places were even open. Anyway, I was able to take care of my errands so I still had the rest of my day for fun.
The highlight of my day was when I went to the Museum of the Desert. I learned that 60% of Mexico can be classified as desert. The two large deserts in the north are the Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts. They are separated by the Sierra Tarahumara. The large desert in the south of Mexico is mostly concentrated in the states of Puebla and Oaxaca and is therefore called the Poblano-Oaxacan desert. The Chihuahua desert used to be under water and was a forrest as late as 12,000 years ago. There is evidence of human habitation when it was still a forrest so I can't help but wonder if humans weren't at least partially responsible for the desertification of the area.
It is nice to be cut off from the outside world. I don't have a cellphone, television, radio, or consistent internet access. Whenever I am in the city, I usually spend a lot of time online, either writing my blog or catching up on the news. I usually work myself into a frenzy reading about the incompetence of the most expensive military in the world. I can't believe that our military lost track of over 190,000 guns in Iraq. Why the fuck are we spending over half a trillion dollars a year that only aids the insurgency it supposedly fights? Our military is great at destabilizing countries but not so great at restabilizing them. Unfortunately, with Iraq we created the mess and we are now obliged to clean it up. You break it you buy it. I have a feeling that we are, eventually, going to abandon Iraq to anarchy until another strongman dictator, like Saddam Hussein, comes along to restabilize Iraq. We will probably financially and militarily support this dictator. So much for spreading democracy but we knew that was a fucking lie, anyway.
Speaking of democracy, how can we call this two-party, tweedledum-and-tweedledee, monopoly on power a democracy. We are not really given real choices. The Republocrats agree on the necessity of having a bloated military, maintaining the prison industrial complex, increasing the police powers of the state, keeping health care private, keeping immigrants out of the country, continuing the drug war, etc... These are issues with which I passionately disagree with the Republocrats.
I will not be in the country during the next election. I considered trying to send in an absentee ballot but that might be difficult due to my lack of a permanent residence. In order to send in an absentee ballot, you are required to contact the Secretary of State of the last state in which you resided and provide them with an address where they can send an absentee ballot. You then have to mail it back to them well before the election date. It would be a better system if Americans who were living abroad were able to vote in the embassies. Even if I could vote in the embassies, I would probably vote for Mickey Mouse or Hulk Hogan as president since I am not really given a real choice. There are only two candidates that I have even a modicum of respect for: they are Ron Paul and Dennis Kucinich. I only like Ron Paul because he is principled to the point where he is the only congressman who voted against the Patriot Act. However, I disagree with his politics and, therefore, would never vote for him. I will not vote for Dennis Kucinich until he grows the cojones to abandon the Democratic party. Until then, I will never trust him because I learned from the Bill Clinton experience that Democrats lie. The rest of the candidates could all be assassinated and our country would probably be better off for it. We all know that the next president of the United States is just going to maintain the status quo just like every president before them. The Democrats will never impeach Bush because they want to keep the power that he illegally usurped when they are in office.
I am on my way now to Real de Catorce, San Luis Potosi to go on a vision quest. Yes, that is right, I am hoping to find peyote. The peyote cactus is an endangered species but this is only because the U.S. exports their insane drug war. If peyote were legal, which it should be, it could be legally cultivated and, hence, not in danger of extinction. There has never been a documented case of peyote overdose or addiction. It even has strong antibacterial qualities which makes it an effective substitute for penicillin. Why is it illegal? It is illegal for the same stupid reason that marijuana and psychaedelic mushrooms are illegal. The prison industrial complex would collapse without the drug war. When so many people from police to prison guards to D.E.A. agents, depend on the drug war to provide them jobs, they will never vote for a politician who wants to end drug prohibition. The drug war is Frankenstein's monster run amok. It is self-perpetuating war that will probably never end until the system collapses on itself.
Peyote has been consumed for milennia by many Indian tribes: Apaches, Kiowas, Comanches, Tarahumara, and Huichols all have sacred peyote rites, to name a few. The Huichol Indians make a 400 kilometer trek to Real de Catorce or Wirikuta, as they like to call it, to consume massive quantities of peyote at el Cerro Quemado or the Burnt Hill. They believe the gods of their ancestors reside in the hills of Real de Catorce. When the go searching for peyote, they say that they are "hunting deer." I am a mixture of mostly European peoples but I have a small amount of Indian in my blood. Despite the fact that I am obviously white, I have always felt more connected to the Indian part of me than the European part. For this reason, I wish to fulfill my vision quest.
I was so happy to be cut off from Babylon. Why did I have to read the news? It almost seems like a form of self-flaggelation. I am, now, back in the desert away from all those news sources. The only thing that matters is that I survive and I make it to Brazil. I am so much happier now that life is so simple. You know what they say: ignorance is bliss.
Day 37 kt: 80.6 ta: 2038 gps: N 24 degrees 25.682' W 101 degrees 22.858'
I swear that the desert between Torreon, Coahuila; Saltillo, Coahuila; and Zacatecas, Zacatecas is like the Bermuda Triangle of flat tires. There was another flat in my front tire caused by thorns, this morning. The hole in my innertube was very small so I decided to give my patches another try. It has held well, so far, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is flat again, tomorrow. If I don't have to remove too many thorns, I can fix a flat in less than 15 minutes.
The desert was very undesertlike this morning. There was a gray cloud covering the whole sky. I thought that it might even rain. I should not have doubted the powerful desert sun, though, for, soon enough, the clouds began to clear out and it began to warm up. I am over 6,000 feet here so it is definitely cold at night. There seems to be a new variety of cactus appearing over each hill. I passed through "forrests" of Desert Palms. Mexico is home to about 95% of the varieties of cactus in the world so I am always finding something different. I love cactus and I think that it is one of the most beautiful plants, especially when it is flowering
I am starting to chip away at those latitudinal lines on the globe. Within a week, I will have passed the Tropic of Cancer as it is on the way to Zacatecas. I made a slight change of plans and decided to ride to Michoacan, to see the monarchs, before I go to el D.F. I see monarchs flying south every day now so I feel a sense of urgency to go see them. This way, I won't be in a hurry to leave el D.F. when I am visiting my friends.
I could have covered a larger distance, today, but I took too many breaks. It worked out in my favor, though, because, while I was resting at a convenience store, the owner gave me a whole bunch of dried beef. This is something that I always like to carry so I was happy that I didn't have to spend a whole lot of money to stock up.
Since I have been fulminating on the subject of the drug war and the growth of the police state, I thought I would write a little bit about the police here in Mexico. There are many different kinds of police here and I will try to explain the differences between them and the jurisdictions they cover.
The policia municipal are only found in larger cities. They are usually the least well equipped of the various police forces here. They drive the older and smaller cars, if they even have cars, and they have the oldest and lowest quality guns. Sometimes they carry AK-47s but they usually just have an old revolver or two. I once saw a municipal cop in Mexico City with two revolvers and an AK-47. They can be on foot, horse, bike, motorcycle, or car. Some of them direct traffic but most of them just hang out.
The policia rural are found in the countryside where there might be a few towns that are close together. They drive 4X4 pickup trucks and they mostly seem to hang out.
The policia estatal police the state highways, though barely. They all have cars though their cars are not as nice as those of the federales. Again, I never see these guys doing much of anything.
The policia federal have the coolest toys out of the police forces here and have the largest jurisdictions. Some of them drive new Dodge Chargers and carry M-16s instead of AK-47s. They will set up roadblocks on the highway and collect bribes from truckers who don't have proper documentation. They don't seem to be too interested in searching vehicles, though, at least not so far.
A.F.I. or the Agencia Federal de Investigaciones is kind of like the D.E.A., A.T.F., and F.B.I. all rolled into one. They also have the coolest toys and can set up roadblocks whereever they want. I passed an A.F.I. roadblock, today, where they were searching every car, but I used a Jedi mind trick and rolled through unimpeded. I even waved hello to a couple of A.F.I. agents carrying machine guns. I think that they have drug sniffing dogs, too, but they are on the side of the highway that goes north because drugs go north and guns go south.
The military should not be forgotten when discussing the police here since they run most of the revision points in Mexico. They are essentially an auxillary police force used to fight the drug war. At each post, there are usually several men who search the cars and several sentries who carry G-3 machine guns. Sometimes, there will even be a mounted machine gun at the post. Those in charge of revision carry metal pointers and stick them in the hollows of cars looking for drug or weapon stashes. I rolled through two of these revision posts unimpeded, today. One of them even had drug sniffing dogs though they were upwind from me. I usually just wave hello to the soldiers and roll on through. I am prepared to pretend that I don't understand Spanish well enough to understand the sign that says ,"Punto de revision."
One can not discuss the police or soldiers here without discussing the system of bribery that enriches them. The police here do not earn a lot of money, especially when compared to police in the United States who start out at about $40,000 a year in most cities. They have come to expect bribes the way a waiter in the U.S. expects a tip of at least 15%. The actual process of bribing a cop is more of a negociation than anything. When I lived in Mexico City, I once saw a friend of mine bribe his way out of the back of a police car with a $10 watch that he told them was worth $20. If you are a skilled negociator, you could probably spend less money bribing a cop than going through the bureaucratic system. Considering that every time I have ever gotten a ticket, I have to go see a judge and pay a fine, I don't see that big a difference between the Mexican and American systems. The Mexican system just eliminates the bureaucratic middleman.
The police in the U.S. don't set up random search checkpoints as this has been ruled unconstitional as an unreasonable search. The police in the United States can not detain someone without reasonable suspicion that they have committed a crime. It is only a matter of time, though, before the current supreme court deems these searches constitutional. Our government happily exports the drug war abroad but never exports the constitutional principles which constrain law enforcement officers in the U.S. The rest of the world suffers an increase in the police powers of the state all in the name of fighting the great American drug war.
The drug war is doomed to fail because there isn't a cop or a soldier who can't be bribed. American policy makers should go back to school to learn about supply and demand. You can not eliminate the demand by eliminating the supply. As the supply decreases the prices will go up because the demand remains the same. When the prices increase the drug dealers have more money to bribe police and soldiers. Also, no crackhead is going to stop smoking crack because the prices increase. They will just rob two people instead of one to get their fix. I guess I can't complain about American tactics in the drug war, though, because the Communist Chinese government executed opium addicts in mass. The Chinese solution did effectively eliminate demand and hence opium addiction, but at what cost? That is the only effective military solution to fighting the drug war. Are we prepared to go that far to end the drug war?
Day 38 kt: 98.9 ta: 1271 gps: N 23 degrees 35.350' W 100 degrees 57.811'
Today was another peaceful day in the desert. After riding on a highway, that was well populated with truckers, for the first 30 kilometers, I turned onto a "highway" that had very little traffic. I had the road all to myself most of the time. Despite the lack of traffic, there are still little towns every 20 kilometers or so. I am well stocked up on everything but it is nice to know that there are places that I can get food and water. Goat herding seems to be the main form of economic activity here.
Speaking of goats, I ate cabrito for the first time, today. It seemed like they must have slaughtered it out back because I was picking goat hairs out of my food. Despite the goat hairs, the cabrito was delicious. I am not going to cop out by saying that goat tastes like chicken. Goat meat has a unique flavor that tastes kind of like chicken but a little different. For about $13, the cabrito was the most expensive meal that I have eaten in Mexico, thus far.
Being the gastronomical adventurer that I am, I am always looking for new foods to try. Sometimes I discover new favorite foods. I am hoping to eat iguana when I am on the beach. I have eaten the intestines of cows, which is called tripa, but I have not worked up the courage to eat the eyes or tongue of the cows. I have even tried grasshopper, though squeemishly. If you think about it, dried grasshopper is not too different from dried shrimp, which I have also eaten. In Saltillo, I tried pan de pulque for the first time. Pulque is a creamy alcohol that is made from the mezcal cactus. It is used as the leavening agent in the bread. I can't wait to find out what new flavors I will discover as I continue south. I have not gotten sick yet as my body can metabolize raw meat.
Day 39 kt:38.6 ta: 3018 gps: N 23 degrees 41.513' W 100 degrees 53.324'
I thought that the road between Basaseachic and San Juanito was bad. But the road, nay trail, that leads to Real de Catorce is far worse. The path is so rocky and steep that I had to get off of my bike for the first time and push it uphill. Believe it or not, this is actually more exhausting than riding uphill. When I was taking a break, I asked Ja to provide me with the strength to push my bike up the remaining 30 degree inclines. Ja provided strength in the form of a man who helped me push my bike up the hill. Even with help, pushing 80 pounds of bike and equipment uphill is neither easy or fun. By the time that I reached Real de Catorce, I was exhausted and famished. I ate three hamburgers at once. I probably could have eaten more but that would have been gluttonous. Anyway, Real de Catorce is beautiful but I can't seem to find peyote here. The man who helped me push my bike uphill told me he could help me find some in the valley, tomorrow morning. Even if I don't find peyote here, I would consider this trip worth it for I met a hippie from Guanajuato who told me I could stay with him when I pass through.
Day 40 kt: 38.5 ta:303 gps: N 23 degrees 53.095' W 100 degrees 59.133'
I came to Real de Catorce looking for peyote but, alas, I did not find it. It is not a secret anymore that peyote can be found in the vicinity. The sad truth is that too many people come to Real de Catorce looking for peyote and it is harder and harder to find. It is definitely endangered around here. This would not be a problem if the cultivation of peyote were legal as people could plant fields of it for consumption.
When I left town, this afternoon, I was sad that I did not accomplish my goal of finding peyote but I was, nonetheless, happy that I came. In the morning, I woke up to the symphony of the roosters crowing and walked around the cobblestone streets. When I returned to the place I was staying, I was thrilled to find a woman selling tamales and champurrado. Champurrado is one of the many reasons I love Mexico. It is a hot chocolate beverage that also has cinammon and sometimes almonds in it. It is thickened with masa. Being that this is the first time that I have found champurrado after crossing the frontier, I drank four cups of it. That alone made my day.
To leave Real de Catorce, I followed the same path from whence I came. The descents along the path were so steep and rocky that I walked my bike along large portions of it because my brakes would not stop my fully-loaded bike. It took me a lot longer than I would prefer to descend into the desert valley but I am happy that I made it out of the mountains alive.
When I reached the junction in the highway where I needed to turn, some men told me that there was a hill outside of the city where a bunch of peyote grew. I figured, what the hell, I can set up my tent in the open desert and go searching for peyote. I saw many cool varieties of cactus and many holes where it looked like something had been dug up, but, alas, I did not find peyote. Maybe I will look again in the morning but I feel like I have to keep moving.
Day 41 kt: 24.2 ta: 400 gps: N 24 degrees 00.196' W 101 degrees 02.019'
happy gps: N 23 degrees 53.173' W 101 degrees 02.019'
Today, I travelled a lot farther in the spiritual realm than in the physical realm. It was an unusual day in the desert. It rained last night when I was sleeping and there was a fog blanketing the desert when I woke up this morning. After breaking down my campsite, I figured that I would try one last time to hunt for peyote. With the fog and the many forks in the path, it was easy to get lost in the open desert so I marked a waypoint in my G.P.S. device where I left my stuff. I then rode off on my bicycle about a kilometer and a half from my campsite and began my search. I did not have to search long before I found what I was looking for, in abundance. I then extracted a button that was about four inches in diameter and rode back to my campsite. The peyote was my breakfast this morning.
As far as I can tell, peyote does not like rocky or grassy areas but prefers sand. It mainly grows at the bases of desert bushes and barely pops up over the surface of the soil. If this is not enough information to help you with your hunt, I have provided the exact coordinates, above, for a nice peyote field. I could see at least three plants from these coordinates and was able to find many more by walking around this area.
To try to describe a peyote trip to someone who has never tried it is like trying to describe the color blue to a someone who has been blind their entire life. You just have to try it to know what it is like. It is not as bitter as I expected. Both beer and coffee have more bitter flavors. I definitely felt different but can not describe in words how I felt. There were no tracers or visual effects. Though I felt different, I can not say that the peyote had a debilitating effect. I felt like I could work under the influence if my dilated pupils did not freak out my customers. Granted I only consumed one good-sized button, whereas, when it is taken ritually, it is taken in much greater quantities.
After I started coming down, I ventured into the town of Vanegas to find some food. I was ravenous because I hadn't eaten anything, except the peyote, all day. I ate two plates of chicken in mole sauce. It was quite delicious. Though the effects of the peyote had worn off, the woman at the food stand knew exactly what I had been up to because my pupils were still as big as saucers. She just kind of chuckled as she asked me if I had eaten a cabezita or little head as peyote is often called. She did not care that it was a crime to extract peyote. She was just happy that I was patronizing her food stand.
I was able to get a little bit of riding in, today, after my late lunch. It remained overcast all day but looked particularly gnarly ahead so I set up my camp about an hour early. I did not want to ride into the lightning, thunder, and heavy rain that lay ahead. The sunset was quite beautiful as they often are on these stormy days. I will go to sleep tonight with the satisfaction of knowing that I accomplished one of the goals of my journey.
Day 42 kt: 94.7 ta:1553 gps: N 23 degrees 52.629' W 101 degrees 44.157'
My only goal today was to get back on the highway going in the direction of Zacatecas. I achieved that and added another 40 kilometers on top of that. Tomorrow, I should pass the Tropic of Cancer.
I ate in two restuarants, today, and both of them were strange places to be. The first only had one picture on the wall and that was of Elvis in a cowboy hat. There was a little retarded kid there who was torturing a poor kitten. The second was right next to an electrical substation but had no electricity. It looked like it was going to rain so I asked the owner if I could set my tent up out back and he told me I could stay in the covered porch area which was even better. He even busted out a peyote button and started eating it when I told him I had just come from Real de Catorce. At the second restuarant, I even ran into a pair of Austinites asking for directions to Real de Catorce. What a strange coincidence, no?
Day 43 kt:92 ta: 1391 gps: N 23 degrees 15.975' W 102 degrees 20.012'
My gear is breaking down on me but I continue moving. The extra 4 liter bag of water that I carried on my rear rack sprung a leak and was rendered useless. I was carrying about 4 liters too much water anyway. It was extra weight. The plastic part on my G.P.S. device which clips onto my handlebars has some microfractures in it and does not function optimally. I am going to try to fix it with superglue and if that fails, I have been imagining several other solutions. Today, I popped another spoke on my real wheel. My rim seems to be fubar and I think that I am going to have to replace it. Even when I disconnected my rear brake the tire was rubbing against my bicycle frame which is problematic because this will rip holes in the sidewalls of my tire leading to chronic flats. I thought that I was going to have to hitch a ride because my bike would not roll. Luckily, I popped my spoke next to a work crew that was clearing overgrowth and trash from the side of the road. There was one point when the entire work crew stopped what they were doing for about half and hour to help me fix my bike so I could, at least, roll unimpeded by unnecessary friction. It took a while, but after loosening most of my spokes and clipping one more, we were able to make my wheel straight enough to ride. It is only a temporary solution, though, and I am on my way to Zacatecas with only my front brake. I probably won't be able to get it fixed, tomorrow, because it is a national holiday (More on that shortly). Unfortunately, I am probably going to have to shell out the big bucks for a new rim.
Tomorrow is el 20 de Noviembre. It doesn't really have a special name but there is a 20 de Noviembre street in just about every city in the Republic of Mexico. It was on November 20, 1910 when Francisco Madero issued his Plan de San Luis Potosi which was a call to arms against the dictatorship of the aging Porfirio Diaz. He claimed that Porfirio Diaz had fraudulently stolen the elections. The next day, people in the north heeded this call and, shortly thereafter, Porfirio Diaz abdicated power and fled into exile. Francisco Madero was released from jail to assume the presidency. Thus began the saga of the Mexican Revolution. It started out relatively bloodlessly but, after Fransisco Madero was, later, overthrown in a coup d'etat and executed, the powderkeg, that was Mexico, exploded. This period of the revolution pitted the Constitutionalists forces against the anti-Constitutionalists forces and did not end until the Constitutionalists forces consolidated power and drew up the Constitution of 1917. After the revolution was over, 1/15th of the Mexican population, at the time, had died in warfare.
Day 36 kt:55.8 ta:1853 gps:N 24 degrees 59.181' W 101 degrees 04.954'
When I woke up in Saltillo, I discovered that my rear tire had deflated, again. Patches are only a temporary solution. They should only be used to get you to the next city if you are touring. Since I was in the city, I used my last innertube.
Waking up with the sun is great when you are on the road but not so great when you are in the city. I found a bike shop, laundromat, and an internet cafè, all before they were even open. I probably rode around in circles for about two hours before any of these places were even open. Anyway, I was able to take care of my errands so I still had the rest of my day for fun.
The highlight of my day was when I went to the Museum of the Desert. I learned that 60% of Mexico can be classified as desert. The two large deserts in the north are the Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts. They are separated by the Sierra Tarahumara. The large desert in the south of Mexico is mostly concentrated in the states of Puebla and Oaxaca and is therefore called the Poblano-Oaxacan desert. The Chihuahua desert used to be under water and was a forrest as late as 12,000 years ago. There is evidence of human habitation when it was still a forrest so I can't help but wonder if humans weren't at least partially responsible for the desertification of the area.
It is nice to be cut off from the outside world. I don't have a cellphone, television, radio, or consistent internet access. Whenever I am in the city, I usually spend a lot of time online, either writing my blog or catching up on the news. I usually work myself into a frenzy reading about the incompetence of the most expensive military in the world. I can't believe that our military lost track of over 190,000 guns in Iraq. Why the fuck are we spending over half a trillion dollars a year that only aids the insurgency it supposedly fights? Our military is great at destabilizing countries but not so great at restabilizing them. Unfortunately, with Iraq we created the mess and we are now obliged to clean it up. You break it you buy it. I have a feeling that we are, eventually, going to abandon Iraq to anarchy until another strongman dictator, like Saddam Hussein, comes along to restabilize Iraq. We will probably financially and militarily support this dictator. So much for spreading democracy but we knew that was a fucking lie, anyway.
Speaking of democracy, how can we call this two-party, tweedledum-and-tweedledee, monopoly on power a democracy. We are not really given real choices. The Republocrats agree on the necessity of having a bloated military, maintaining the prison industrial complex, increasing the police powers of the state, keeping health care private, keeping immigrants out of the country, continuing the drug war, etc... These are issues with which I passionately disagree with the Republocrats.
I will not be in the country during the next election. I considered trying to send in an absentee ballot but that might be difficult due to my lack of a permanent residence. In order to send in an absentee ballot, you are required to contact the Secretary of State of the last state in which you resided and provide them with an address where they can send an absentee ballot. You then have to mail it back to them well before the election date. It would be a better system if Americans who were living abroad were able to vote in the embassies. Even if I could vote in the embassies, I would probably vote for Mickey Mouse or Hulk Hogan as president since I am not really given a real choice. There are only two candidates that I have even a modicum of respect for: they are Ron Paul and Dennis Kucinich. I only like Ron Paul because he is principled to the point where he is the only congressman who voted against the Patriot Act. However, I disagree with his politics and, therefore, would never vote for him. I will not vote for Dennis Kucinich until he grows the cojones to abandon the Democratic party. Until then, I will never trust him because I learned from the Bill Clinton experience that Democrats lie. The rest of the candidates could all be assassinated and our country would probably be better off for it. We all know that the next president of the United States is just going to maintain the status quo just like every president before them. The Democrats will never impeach Bush because they want to keep the power that he illegally usurped when they are in office.
I am on my way now to Real de Catorce, San Luis Potosi to go on a vision quest. Yes, that is right, I am hoping to find peyote. The peyote cactus is an endangered species but this is only because the U.S. exports their insane drug war. If peyote were legal, which it should be, it could be legally cultivated and, hence, not in danger of extinction. There has never been a documented case of peyote overdose or addiction. It even has strong antibacterial qualities which makes it an effective substitute for penicillin. Why is it illegal? It is illegal for the same stupid reason that marijuana and psychaedelic mushrooms are illegal. The prison industrial complex would collapse without the drug war. When so many people from police to prison guards to D.E.A. agents, depend on the drug war to provide them jobs, they will never vote for a politician who wants to end drug prohibition. The drug war is Frankenstein's monster run amok. It is self-perpetuating war that will probably never end until the system collapses on itself.
Peyote has been consumed for milennia by many Indian tribes: Apaches, Kiowas, Comanches, Tarahumara, and Huichols all have sacred peyote rites, to name a few. The Huichol Indians make a 400 kilometer trek to Real de Catorce or Wirikuta, as they like to call it, to consume massive quantities of peyote at el Cerro Quemado or the Burnt Hill. They believe the gods of their ancestors reside in the hills of Real de Catorce. When the go searching for peyote, they say that they are "hunting deer." I am a mixture of mostly European peoples but I have a small amount of Indian in my blood. Despite the fact that I am obviously white, I have always felt more connected to the Indian part of me than the European part. For this reason, I wish to fulfill my vision quest.
I was so happy to be cut off from Babylon. Why did I have to read the news? It almost seems like a form of self-flaggelation. I am, now, back in the desert away from all those news sources. The only thing that matters is that I survive and I make it to Brazil. I am so much happier now that life is so simple. You know what they say: ignorance is bliss.
Day 37 kt: 80.6 ta: 2038 gps: N 24 degrees 25.682' W 101 degrees 22.858'
I swear that the desert between Torreon, Coahuila; Saltillo, Coahuila; and Zacatecas, Zacatecas is like the Bermuda Triangle of flat tires. There was another flat in my front tire caused by thorns, this morning. The hole in my innertube was very small so I decided to give my patches another try. It has held well, so far, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is flat again, tomorrow. If I don't have to remove too many thorns, I can fix a flat in less than 15 minutes.
The desert was very undesertlike this morning. There was a gray cloud covering the whole sky. I thought that it might even rain. I should not have doubted the powerful desert sun, though, for, soon enough, the clouds began to clear out and it began to warm up. I am over 6,000 feet here so it is definitely cold at night. There seems to be a new variety of cactus appearing over each hill. I passed through "forrests" of Desert Palms. Mexico is home to about 95% of the varieties of cactus in the world so I am always finding something different. I love cactus and I think that it is one of the most beautiful plants, especially when it is flowering
I am starting to chip away at those latitudinal lines on the globe. Within a week, I will have passed the Tropic of Cancer as it is on the way to Zacatecas. I made a slight change of plans and decided to ride to Michoacan, to see the monarchs, before I go to el D.F. I see monarchs flying south every day now so I feel a sense of urgency to go see them. This way, I won't be in a hurry to leave el D.F. when I am visiting my friends.
I could have covered a larger distance, today, but I took too many breaks. It worked out in my favor, though, because, while I was resting at a convenience store, the owner gave me a whole bunch of dried beef. This is something that I always like to carry so I was happy that I didn't have to spend a whole lot of money to stock up.
Since I have been fulminating on the subject of the drug war and the growth of the police state, I thought I would write a little bit about the police here in Mexico. There are many different kinds of police here and I will try to explain the differences between them and the jurisdictions they cover.
The policia municipal are only found in larger cities. They are usually the least well equipped of the various police forces here. They drive the older and smaller cars, if they even have cars, and they have the oldest and lowest quality guns. Sometimes they carry AK-47s but they usually just have an old revolver or two. I once saw a municipal cop in Mexico City with two revolvers and an AK-47. They can be on foot, horse, bike, motorcycle, or car. Some of them direct traffic but most of them just hang out.
The policia rural are found in the countryside where there might be a few towns that are close together. They drive 4X4 pickup trucks and they mostly seem to hang out.
The policia estatal police the state highways, though barely. They all have cars though their cars are not as nice as those of the federales. Again, I never see these guys doing much of anything.
The policia federal have the coolest toys out of the police forces here and have the largest jurisdictions. Some of them drive new Dodge Chargers and carry M-16s instead of AK-47s. They will set up roadblocks on the highway and collect bribes from truckers who don't have proper documentation. They don't seem to be too interested in searching vehicles, though, at least not so far.
A.F.I. or the Agencia Federal de Investigaciones is kind of like the D.E.A., A.T.F., and F.B.I. all rolled into one. They also have the coolest toys and can set up roadblocks whereever they want. I passed an A.F.I. roadblock, today, where they were searching every car, but I used a Jedi mind trick and rolled through unimpeded. I even waved hello to a couple of A.F.I. agents carrying machine guns. I think that they have drug sniffing dogs, too, but they are on the side of the highway that goes north because drugs go north and guns go south.
The military should not be forgotten when discussing the police here since they run most of the revision points in Mexico. They are essentially an auxillary police force used to fight the drug war. At each post, there are usually several men who search the cars and several sentries who carry G-3 machine guns. Sometimes, there will even be a mounted machine gun at the post. Those in charge of revision carry metal pointers and stick them in the hollows of cars looking for drug or weapon stashes. I rolled through two of these revision posts unimpeded, today. One of them even had drug sniffing dogs though they were upwind from me. I usually just wave hello to the soldiers and roll on through. I am prepared to pretend that I don't understand Spanish well enough to understand the sign that says ,"Punto de revision."
One can not discuss the police or soldiers here without discussing the system of bribery that enriches them. The police here do not earn a lot of money, especially when compared to police in the United States who start out at about $40,000 a year in most cities. They have come to expect bribes the way a waiter in the U.S. expects a tip of at least 15%. The actual process of bribing a cop is more of a negociation than anything. When I lived in Mexico City, I once saw a friend of mine bribe his way out of the back of a police car with a $10 watch that he told them was worth $20. If you are a skilled negociator, you could probably spend less money bribing a cop than going through the bureaucratic system. Considering that every time I have ever gotten a ticket, I have to go see a judge and pay a fine, I don't see that big a difference between the Mexican and American systems. The Mexican system just eliminates the bureaucratic middleman.
The police in the U.S. don't set up random search checkpoints as this has been ruled unconstitional as an unreasonable search. The police in the United States can not detain someone without reasonable suspicion that they have committed a crime. It is only a matter of time, though, before the current supreme court deems these searches constitutional. Our government happily exports the drug war abroad but never exports the constitutional principles which constrain law enforcement officers in the U.S. The rest of the world suffers an increase in the police powers of the state all in the name of fighting the great American drug war.
The drug war is doomed to fail because there isn't a cop or a soldier who can't be bribed. American policy makers should go back to school to learn about supply and demand. You can not eliminate the demand by eliminating the supply. As the supply decreases the prices will go up because the demand remains the same. When the prices increase the drug dealers have more money to bribe police and soldiers. Also, no crackhead is going to stop smoking crack because the prices increase. They will just rob two people instead of one to get their fix. I guess I can't complain about American tactics in the drug war, though, because the Communist Chinese government executed opium addicts in mass. The Chinese solution did effectively eliminate demand and hence opium addiction, but at what cost? That is the only effective military solution to fighting the drug war. Are we prepared to go that far to end the drug war?
Day 38 kt: 98.9 ta: 1271 gps: N 23 degrees 35.350' W 100 degrees 57.811'
Today was another peaceful day in the desert. After riding on a highway, that was well populated with truckers, for the first 30 kilometers, I turned onto a "highway" that had very little traffic. I had the road all to myself most of the time. Despite the lack of traffic, there are still little towns every 20 kilometers or so. I am well stocked up on everything but it is nice to know that there are places that I can get food and water. Goat herding seems to be the main form of economic activity here.
Speaking of goats, I ate cabrito for the first time, today. It seemed like they must have slaughtered it out back because I was picking goat hairs out of my food. Despite the goat hairs, the cabrito was delicious. I am not going to cop out by saying that goat tastes like chicken. Goat meat has a unique flavor that tastes kind of like chicken but a little different. For about $13, the cabrito was the most expensive meal that I have eaten in Mexico, thus far.
Being the gastronomical adventurer that I am, I am always looking for new foods to try. Sometimes I discover new favorite foods. I am hoping to eat iguana when I am on the beach. I have eaten the intestines of cows, which is called tripa, but I have not worked up the courage to eat the eyes or tongue of the cows. I have even tried grasshopper, though squeemishly. If you think about it, dried grasshopper is not too different from dried shrimp, which I have also eaten. In Saltillo, I tried pan de pulque for the first time. Pulque is a creamy alcohol that is made from the mezcal cactus. It is used as the leavening agent in the bread. I can't wait to find out what new flavors I will discover as I continue south. I have not gotten sick yet as my body can metabolize raw meat.
Day 39 kt:38.6 ta: 3018 gps: N 23 degrees 41.513' W 100 degrees 53.324'
I thought that the road between Basaseachic and San Juanito was bad. But the road, nay trail, that leads to Real de Catorce is far worse. The path is so rocky and steep that I had to get off of my bike for the first time and push it uphill. Believe it or not, this is actually more exhausting than riding uphill. When I was taking a break, I asked Ja to provide me with the strength to push my bike up the remaining 30 degree inclines. Ja provided strength in the form of a man who helped me push my bike up the hill. Even with help, pushing 80 pounds of bike and equipment uphill is neither easy or fun. By the time that I reached Real de Catorce, I was exhausted and famished. I ate three hamburgers at once. I probably could have eaten more but that would have been gluttonous. Anyway, Real de Catorce is beautiful but I can't seem to find peyote here. The man who helped me push my bike uphill told me he could help me find some in the valley, tomorrow morning. Even if I don't find peyote here, I would consider this trip worth it for I met a hippie from Guanajuato who told me I could stay with him when I pass through.
Day 40 kt: 38.5 ta:303 gps: N 23 degrees 53.095' W 100 degrees 59.133'
I came to Real de Catorce looking for peyote but, alas, I did not find it. It is not a secret anymore that peyote can be found in the vicinity. The sad truth is that too many people come to Real de Catorce looking for peyote and it is harder and harder to find. It is definitely endangered around here. This would not be a problem if the cultivation of peyote were legal as people could plant fields of it for consumption.
When I left town, this afternoon, I was sad that I did not accomplish my goal of finding peyote but I was, nonetheless, happy that I came. In the morning, I woke up to the symphony of the roosters crowing and walked around the cobblestone streets. When I returned to the place I was staying, I was thrilled to find a woman selling tamales and champurrado. Champurrado is one of the many reasons I love Mexico. It is a hot chocolate beverage that also has cinammon and sometimes almonds in it. It is thickened with masa. Being that this is the first time that I have found champurrado after crossing the frontier, I drank four cups of it. That alone made my day.
To leave Real de Catorce, I followed the same path from whence I came. The descents along the path were so steep and rocky that I walked my bike along large portions of it because my brakes would not stop my fully-loaded bike. It took me a lot longer than I would prefer to descend into the desert valley but I am happy that I made it out of the mountains alive.
When I reached the junction in the highway where I needed to turn, some men told me that there was a hill outside of the city where a bunch of peyote grew. I figured, what the hell, I can set up my tent in the open desert and go searching for peyote. I saw many cool varieties of cactus and many holes where it looked like something had been dug up, but, alas, I did not find peyote. Maybe I will look again in the morning but I feel like I have to keep moving.
Day 41 kt: 24.2 ta: 400 gps: N 24 degrees 00.196' W 101 degrees 02.019'
happy gps: N 23 degrees 53.173' W 101 degrees 02.019'
Today, I travelled a lot farther in the spiritual realm than in the physical realm. It was an unusual day in the desert. It rained last night when I was sleeping and there was a fog blanketing the desert when I woke up this morning. After breaking down my campsite, I figured that I would try one last time to hunt for peyote. With the fog and the many forks in the path, it was easy to get lost in the open desert so I marked a waypoint in my G.P.S. device where I left my stuff. I then rode off on my bicycle about a kilometer and a half from my campsite and began my search. I did not have to search long before I found what I was looking for, in abundance. I then extracted a button that was about four inches in diameter and rode back to my campsite. The peyote was my breakfast this morning.
As far as I can tell, peyote does not like rocky or grassy areas but prefers sand. It mainly grows at the bases of desert bushes and barely pops up over the surface of the soil. If this is not enough information to help you with your hunt, I have provided the exact coordinates, above, for a nice peyote field. I could see at least three plants from these coordinates and was able to find many more by walking around this area.
To try to describe a peyote trip to someone who has never tried it is like trying to describe the color blue to a someone who has been blind their entire life. You just have to try it to know what it is like. It is not as bitter as I expected. Both beer and coffee have more bitter flavors. I definitely felt different but can not describe in words how I felt. There were no tracers or visual effects. Though I felt different, I can not say that the peyote had a debilitating effect. I felt like I could work under the influence if my dilated pupils did not freak out my customers. Granted I only consumed one good-sized button, whereas, when it is taken ritually, it is taken in much greater quantities.
After I started coming down, I ventured into the town of Vanegas to find some food. I was ravenous because I hadn't eaten anything, except the peyote, all day. I ate two plates of chicken in mole sauce. It was quite delicious. Though the effects of the peyote had worn off, the woman at the food stand knew exactly what I had been up to because my pupils were still as big as saucers. She just kind of chuckled as she asked me if I had eaten a cabezita or little head as peyote is often called. She did not care that it was a crime to extract peyote. She was just happy that I was patronizing her food stand.
I was able to get a little bit of riding in, today, after my late lunch. It remained overcast all day but looked particularly gnarly ahead so I set up my camp about an hour early. I did not want to ride into the lightning, thunder, and heavy rain that lay ahead. The sunset was quite beautiful as they often are on these stormy days. I will go to sleep tonight with the satisfaction of knowing that I accomplished one of the goals of my journey.
Day 42 kt: 94.7 ta:1553 gps: N 23 degrees 52.629' W 101 degrees 44.157'
My only goal today was to get back on the highway going in the direction of Zacatecas. I achieved that and added another 40 kilometers on top of that. Tomorrow, I should pass the Tropic of Cancer.
I ate in two restuarants, today, and both of them were strange places to be. The first only had one picture on the wall and that was of Elvis in a cowboy hat. There was a little retarded kid there who was torturing a poor kitten. The second was right next to an electrical substation but had no electricity. It looked like it was going to rain so I asked the owner if I could set my tent up out back and he told me I could stay in the covered porch area which was even better. He even busted out a peyote button and started eating it when I told him I had just come from Real de Catorce. At the second restuarant, I even ran into a pair of Austinites asking for directions to Real de Catorce. What a strange coincidence, no?
Day 43 kt:92 ta: 1391 gps: N 23 degrees 15.975' W 102 degrees 20.012'
My gear is breaking down on me but I continue moving. The extra 4 liter bag of water that I carried on my rear rack sprung a leak and was rendered useless. I was carrying about 4 liters too much water anyway. It was extra weight. The plastic part on my G.P.S. device which clips onto my handlebars has some microfractures in it and does not function optimally. I am going to try to fix it with superglue and if that fails, I have been imagining several other solutions. Today, I popped another spoke on my real wheel. My rim seems to be fubar and I think that I am going to have to replace it. Even when I disconnected my rear brake the tire was rubbing against my bicycle frame which is problematic because this will rip holes in the sidewalls of my tire leading to chronic flats. I thought that I was going to have to hitch a ride because my bike would not roll. Luckily, I popped my spoke next to a work crew that was clearing overgrowth and trash from the side of the road. There was one point when the entire work crew stopped what they were doing for about half and hour to help me fix my bike so I could, at least, roll unimpeded by unnecessary friction. It took a while, but after loosening most of my spokes and clipping one more, we were able to make my wheel straight enough to ride. It is only a temporary solution, though, and I am on my way to Zacatecas with only my front brake. I probably won't be able to get it fixed, tomorrow, because it is a national holiday (More on that shortly). Unfortunately, I am probably going to have to shell out the big bucks for a new rim.
Tomorrow is el 20 de Noviembre. It doesn't really have a special name but there is a 20 de Noviembre street in just about every city in the Republic of Mexico. It was on November 20, 1910 when Francisco Madero issued his Plan de San Luis Potosi which was a call to arms against the dictatorship of the aging Porfirio Diaz. He claimed that Porfirio Diaz had fraudulently stolen the elections. The next day, people in the north heeded this call and, shortly thereafter, Porfirio Diaz abdicated power and fled into exile. Francisco Madero was released from jail to assume the presidency. Thus began the saga of the Mexican Revolution. It started out relatively bloodlessly but, after Fransisco Madero was, later, overthrown in a coup d'etat and executed, the powderkeg, that was Mexico, exploded. This period of the revolution pitted the Constitutionalists forces against the anti-Constitutionalists forces and did not end until the Constitutionalists forces consolidated power and drew up the Constitution of 1917. After the revolution was over, 1/15th of the Mexican population, at the time, had died in warfare.
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