Espinazo del Diablo

"Shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, shrimp" so began my mantra after 20 km of being beaten in the face by some seriously nasty headwind on our way into the city of Durango. I couldn't wait to get to Mazatlan and the beach.

Durango was a pleasant surprise and it wasn't for the chocolate cake and candied pecans I found either. I swear we were the only tourists in town and yet, with it's pedestrian streets and beautifully lit colonial buildings, Durango shone as if it had just been polished up for some international touristic event. Only there was no international event. Durango is just a lively and prosperous place. If it weren't for the fact that this capital actually sees snow in the winter I'd say that I'm shocked the place isn't full of gringo retirees. While we were excited to finally be turning onto the Ruta 40 which leads to the Espinazo del Diablo, we were also sad to be leaving this gem of a place.




Onward and upward we went only to be passed by at least a hundred local riders out for a Sunday ride. The folks were unusually accessible and curious for Mexican road riders, we exchanged stories and got the details about the ride that lay ahead. Most of them knew it intimately from an annual event arranged by Vagabundos Durango that follows this route from Durango to Mazatlan in two days and attracts over 500 riders. Were were doing it in three and it was still plenty tough.


The second day we paralleled the new toll road for a good distance and then made it to the the heart of the reason we were there "the espinazo!". To say this road ribbons, undulates, or meanders is an understatement...sinuous curves- oh yes it is all of those things. You reach a point where you feel you should must begin your descent to the sea, but the road drops twists and then regains all of the altitude you just lost. It does this countless times for more than 40 kilometres. Granted you do gradually do lose some altitude, but the only thing that makes this loss feel rewarding is the sea of disappearing blue mountain ridges that wash out to the left of you as you make you way down the road. It takes a long time before the metres disappear easily. A man directing traffic around a bit of road constuction eggs us on with accolades as to our cycling prowess and how tough these hills are. Basil moans of how this might be the toughest downhill ever.




And then all of a sudden we are at the sea and eating shrimp on the beach in Mazatlan.

Guadalajara Bike Treats - the good and the better

One thing that can be tough to find while bike touring in Mexico is a plateful of good veggies that you haven't put together yourself. Imagine our surprise at seeing snack carts like this stationed all over the centre of Guadalajara...


I felt all virtuous seeing the cyclist stopping in to refuel at one of these veggie carts. Could it be that through him I was vicariously living the healthy lifestyle misnomer that Basil and I have somehow perpetuated as professional bike tourists? Truth be told, this is what I truly crave post ride:


Oh yeah, CHURROS! aka dough - hand kneaded, fried in fat, sliced open and filled with homemade caramel then rolled in sugar and cinnamon. So simple and yet when made by this trio of angels it is like ambrosia...

Clearly I will never be a Pan Am games contender, but I can certainly take you to the best churros in town. God Bless these Guadalajaran churros makers. To sample these treats while in Guadalajara go two blocks up from the San Juan de Dios market kiddie corner from Hotel Azteca (any afternoon except Sunday). You won't regret it.

Mexican Doughboy?

Mexican bakeries abound even in the smallest of towns. Most evenings the aroma of baked goods wafts out into the streets tempting passersby to load up on what are mainly sweet breads. I have learned over the years that, for Mexican bread to be at all enjoyable, it really must be eaten the day it is purchased. In my opinion, breads here look and smell a lot more exciting than they taste. They certainly do come up with a good variety of shapes for their breads, but I have yet to discover a huge variance between their flavour and texture. Perhaps with time, I'll be better at discerning their subtleties. For now, I'll keep following those aromas and will never resist a roll that comes out of a wood burning oven - especially one that is lovingly created by a happy fat baker.

Isla Soyaltepec

What would life be like in a world without cars? A half hour boat trip through islands that are little more than tree tops takes you to the Island of Soyaltepec always remote, but now exceedingly remote since the flooding of the Temascal Reservoir. One benefit of the dam is that all 500 of Soyaltepec's residents have electricity, but the roads are grass or mud and stone and donkeys traffic all consumibles from the turkey studded wharf to the town at the top of the half hour climb. After days of rain the locals are pleased to see strangers picking their way along the muddy tracks towards the summit of their island. Local women proudly promote their embroidery, a local drunk keeps a good tune on an avocado leaf, livestock roams free and the 18th century church has the best view on the island.

Mazatec country

The gentle road that winds it's way along the banks of the Papaloapan river through groves of rubber trees and sugar cane is a welcome reprieve as we enter the wide open and warm country of the Mazatec people. Embroidery abounds, fields are fertile, and the weather holds out allowing some of our clothing to almost dry.

Leaving behind the Tuxtepec's paper mills and the largest brewery in Mexico, we turn west and make our way to a little visited gem in a forgotten corner of Oaxaca state: the 1000 islands. Fish, fish, and fish abound and are the main way of life for these people who just 55 years ago grew mainly cotton, coffee, and rice. Sleepy San Pedro Ixcatlan pokes out into the flood waters of the Miguel Aleman dam or Temascal reservoir and nestles itself nicely alongside the imposing presence of the Mazatec holy mountain Cerro Rabon.

Sierra Juarez

It's not that there has been no sun on our little turn through the north of Oaxaca. We left the valley with the sun on our backs, but when the clouds roll in and you're at altitude the only way to escape the cold is with a hot beverage, a heavy blanket, and/or a fireplace. Homes are not heated in Mexico the way they are north of the border. When it is cold, it's cold. We still managed to pull ourselves out from under our blankets on our rest day to head out by mototaxi for a small sampling of the biodiversity of the forests of Sierra Juarez.

Return to the Sierra

I stalled out. For some reason I got stuck and could blog no more. Not even cycling in the highlands of Michoacan or along the Pacific coast could pull me out of my slump. I was unwell while exploring our new Oaxaca route a few months ago and between guiding tours and moving in to our new place I have had little energy to spare since, but I'm back and reinspired by having nearly completed this new Oaxaca route with our first group of riders.

Here I return us to that climb from Oaxaca to Ixtlan de Juarez and on to Cerro Machin and Pelon and then that tremendous 3000m drop down into the spongy lush Papaloapan basin. We thought it was epic having done it in the rain and fog and then the dark, but this time we got to add the presence of ice and snow into the mix. Perhaps it is just a really mean mountain that doesn't really like to give up cyclists to the other side? All I know is: blankets can be hard to come by when it is cold and rainy in a place that is always hot, and clothing that varies from wet to damp isn't much fun at all.

Curious Goose

Stopping for a quiet lunch outside of Tuxtepec we take notice of a curious goose keen on clean bicycles. His bike worship went on for many, many minutes until I shooed him away once he started to reef of the cables of the bike. He didn't move far though he simply waddled over to the next bike to cuddle up and gaze longingly.

Hydrate or Die...or at least cramp up and feel like crap for a few days

It's sizzling hot out there. You find yourself craving sickly sweet drinks. For the distance you've gone, and the terrain you're riding, you're unusually tired. Your brain feels sluggish and your legs feel like lead weights. You're dehydrated!

In Mexico the fridge is always full of Coca Cola, and often you can find some brand of sport or energy drink, but there is also a much more natural alternative to help you stay hydrated while on the go in Mexico. Basil (my beau) promotes it as "Basilade" to our riders who join us every year for a little bit of riding in the sun...

Suero Oral - (unflavoured electrolytes in powder form) are available for free at all public health centres (Centro de Salud) and artificially flavoured ones are available at some pharmacies. It comes in little envelopes (see photo above) filled with the correct balance of electrolytes to rehydrate an infant suffering from severe diarrhea. We use it as a preventative measure adding one or two ice cream taster spoonfuls to a bicycle water bottle. Now an important and often overlooked step in our home made gatorade is to add in a little sweetness to assist in absorption. Some people add a little juice, or a little world class Mayan honey (the brown stuff in the bottle in front of my water bottles), or a little sugar, and a little something else for flavour...I went through a little Matcha phase (that's what is in the circular tin in front of the water bottles featured above), but a truly local choice is Jamaica or Hibiscus flowers. I've posted about this fantastic little flower before, but above is another picture I took of some drying by the side of the road. A few of these flowers along with some honey and some salts is DeeLish and good like cranberry juice is for a ladies pee parts which is always helpful for when your chamois is smooshed up against a saddle all day! While this beverage is traditionally served cold here in Mexico, as your bottles heat up throughout the day you can pretend you have been invited into an Egyptian home for some hot hibiscus tea. Hot or cold you can't lose with tasty sweet-tart hibiscus.

In pharmacies you will also see plastic bottles of liquid Pedialite which is also used for rehydration, but it has a terrible artificial taste and once opened must be kept cold which is a problem while bike touring. The powder works well because you can mix as you go. This brings me to another important point, you really don't want to over do it with the salts too many can cramp you up and make you feel as bad as if you cycled around in 37 C heat all day without any salts at all. You just need a little bit. Experiment - it is a very personal balance. Some people need half a taster spoon and a ton of sugar, some people need two heaping taster spoons and a little bit of sugar - we're all different! Listen to your body and you'll learn your own recipe.

And two last things about keeping those muscles feeling good by staying hydrated in the heat:
1. Do not keep your Basilade drink longer than 24hrs. It will go bad. Mix as you go...
2. Rinse your bottles and let them dry EVERY night! The tropics are a breeding ground for bacteria and fungus. If you do not rinse your bottles then you will be ingesting a jungle full of bad guys.

Sweet and Simple

The road through Sola de Vega bustles with pilgrims. It is barely daybreak and the many temporary eateries that have cropped up to service the raging hunger of so many cyclists and walkers are already open. The shops are brimming with oranges, mandarins, sweet breads and cookies - all favourites of the pilgrims. Bike shops, shoe repair, pharmacies, and corner stores are open 24 hours in this otherwise quiet village that, for a few weeks every year, is swallowed up by a river of pilgrims making their way to Juquila to ask for a miracle or to complete a promised return visit to the tiny and highly revered dark-skinned Virgin of Juquila. Many pilgrims have cycled and walked through the night to get to this desination. Some travel carrying large crosses and sacred pictures to be blessed and returned to needy homes and businesses.

This is no easy journey. The trip to Juquila is mountainous. The trip away from Juquila is among the steepest paved roads that we have cycled in Mexio. This morning a spritely young group of single speed cyclists is taking a break before they continue uphill away from Sola de Vega. They eye us with all our strange gear attached to our bikes and our fancy lycra clothes. We eye them with their unencumbered single speed bikes and their blue jeans. It is a treat to be on a road where bikes outnumber cars and where it is not uncommon for people in cars to hand out oranges, sandwiches, or water to the cyclists or hikers they pass. There is a certain contagious energy that arises from sharing this mission with so many others.

Sola de Tlayuda

Making our way out of the Valley of Oaxaca toward Sola de Vega always seems easier than it really is at the beginning. Climbing starts gradually and rolls along gently eventually becoming one continuous hot 10km climb that promptly descends 14km through some of the best Mezcal country in Mexico. In celebration of day one I drown my hunger in Oaxaca's answer to pizza, the tlayuda. I wrap my hands around this plate-sized, crunchy, corn tortilla that has been smeared with refried beans, asiento, and topped with tasajo (beef), stringy Oaxaca cheese, tomatoes, avocado, lettuce, and baked over a charcoal fire. It might be my fierce post-ride hunger talking, but this little eatery easily makes the best tlayuda I've had yet.

Sirens sound as large numbers of pilgrims make their way past our roadside table, through town on their way to or away from a visit with the miraculous Virgin of Juquila a few long mountain ranges away. We prepare to turn in for the night to rest up and join the wave of people making their way to Juquila.

Queen of the Court

It would be easy to breeze on through La Placita (The Court) without batting an eye, but you'd be missing a bike touring gem: La Reyna (the queen) Hotel the home and hotel of Humberto and Maxine. What makes this a gem? Humberto used to race bikes back in the 60's and the yearly visits of our little band of cyclists along with the many other bike tourists who make their way down the Pan Am every year has revived his passion for cycling. He has a wall devoted to his adventures and thoroughly savours his occasional visits from bike tourists. Together with his wife they run a quirky and lovingly maintained little hotel. There are always plenty of interesting fowl pecking their way around the yard and Maxine has my dream outdoor kitchen.

Ask Humberto to ride with you down the coast a distance and I'll bet you he can't resist...