32. Pushing through central Mexico

I'm conscious that time is ticking and that, I don't make an effort to push on, I could end up spending months in Mexico. This wouldn't be such a bad thing but , with so much more to discover in Central and South America, a better use of my time would be to press on. Travelling south, in a three day push, I passed from Zacatecas state through the states of Aguascalientes, Jalisco and now Guanajuato state. 

 I contacted a Warm Showers host, Jesus Ivan, in Lagos de Moreno. He's working in Mexico City right now but his parents kindly offered to host me in their home. Great good, great company, I spent a lovely evening with them.

 I love the Spanish word for swallow- 'golondrina'. They were roosting in their thousands in the town centre of Lagos de Moreno, quite a spectacle. Climate change is a global phenomenon; as happens In Europe some swallows are now overwintering here instead of migrating south for the winter.

Sunday night in Lagos de  Moreno and the plazas were thronging with people. Evening paseos, ice cream and stalls selling sweets and decorations for the forthcoming día de los muertos celebrations. Also I was lucky enough to see some regional dances and...

...local musicians performing traditional Mexican music. Wow, these guys could really play! I was mightily impressed by their musicianship.

Moving on to Guanajuato I passed through the sprawling, industrial city of Leon. Not really a place to stop, lots of traffic and noisy highways. At least a couple of cycle lanes helped keep me safe.

It was a relief to reach Guanajuato after a long ride on the highways. 

Staying in a hostel again once more I was the only guest. A bit weird! Nice to have the run of the  place and spend some more time in the kitchen. Cooking is a real novelty for me and I lap up the opportunity to make my own meals.

Getting into Guanajuato on a bike is not fun! Narrow roads, lots of traffic, steep slopes and several tunnels to navigate. Advice, take a moment to remove your sunglasses before riding throughout a tunnel. Common sense failure in my part...

Yes, the Spaniards plundered much mineral wealth from Mexico but what beautiful cities they left behind. The colonial architecture and peaceful plazas are very impressive.

Primary school kids buying sweets in anticipation of el día de los muertos. 

The celebrations run from 31sr October to 2nd November. I'm not sure quite what to expect yet. 

Guanajuato is the birthplace of one of Mexico's most famous artists, Diego Riviera. I hope to visit the home of his even more famous wife, Frida Kahlo, in Mexico City.

City vista.

No one to share the wifi with here so fast internet! Click here if you want to see me and hear my dulcet tones: Guanajuato post

31. Zacatecas!

Well my third month of the trip is up and what a month it has been. After the physical challenge and constant slogging it out on the Great Divide, time in Mexico has been slower paced and the challenge has been more of a linguistic nature. I've only covered 1162 miles this month, about two thirds of what I did in months one and two. However, thus reflects more days out of the saddle, I am still putting in some pretty hefty daily mileages from time to time! Only four camps in Mexico so far and 19 stays in Mexican homes in a month - this has been an unexpected pleasure of this part of the trip.

Moving on from Fresnillo I took the main highway to Zacatecas. Part of it is a toll road (pictured) but cyclist and just roll on through without charge. Most big roads have wide shoulders so it's safe riding. When the shoulder disappears and you hear a large truck approaching from behind you hold on tight, try to keep as straight a line as possible and grit your teeth hoping to survive unscathed! Many drivers are considerate and wait till they can pass safely.

Zacatecas is the most attractive city I've visited on the whole trip and, unsurprisingly with all the colonial architecture, reminded me of my time in Spain. My host tells me it is the second highest city in Mexico and the centre's streets are draped across the mountainous terrain. The city was founded on and funded by its rich deposits of silver.

The city's cathedral dominates the centre with high towers, an elaborately decorated facade and is both a place of worship and a hub for tourists.

I was fortunate enough to stay with Francisco and Sandra who live slap bang in the heart of Zacatecas. I enjoyed great conversations with them about Mexico, travelling, politics and the regional intricacies of Spanish. Each morning me, Brandon and Jonny (American cyclists I met in Durango) sat down to a sumptuous breakfast of quesadillas, toast, eggs, fruit, honey and coffee. What have I done to deserve such hospitality?!? I just try to smile, be a happy person, try my hardest with Spanish and it all seems to work out!

Exploring the backstreets of Zacatecas had been great fun and there are sir wonderful museums here. I've enjoyed the time out of the saddle again and feel ready to ride on to Aguascalientes tomorrow.

Home! Francisco and Sandra's apartment is the block just to the left of the tree in this beautiful plaza. Like many hosts, they trust us bedraggled cyclists with keys to the property so we are free to come and go as we please. 

The celebrations for the Day of the Dead are approaching soon. While I'm not one to plan ahead to far, at least not on this trip, I'm hoping to make it to Morelia in time to enjoy the festivities there. A fair bit of riding to do in between but, as my mileage suggests, I'm riding within myself and a bit of pushing won't do me any harm. I just can't help but get sidetracked in Mexico though so well see what happens!

30. Colonial cities in the Tropics

Durango's cathedral looks over the Plaza de Armas, the city's main square. By day stalls sell local produce, snacks and handicrafts while at night the atmosphere completely changes with live music and dancing taking over. I'd had a taste of colonial architecture in Parral but the extent of Spanish-styled buildings was far greater in Durango. After a couple of long days pushing on to the city it was great take some rest time reading in cafes or sat in the plazas.

Food was a regular theme during my stay in Durango; my host Jonathon introduced me to some great eating spots and we got on really well. It's incredible how, with some people, I really struggle to catch a word of what they're saying whereas with others, like Jonathon, communication is a real breeze. He's a very welcoming host; we bumped into a couple of American bike tourers pedalling through town and, without hesitation, they were invited to stay at his house.

The food theme continues! Lunch in the market - a range of caldos to choose from.

Back at Jonathon's house with the American tourers - Brandon and Jonny - and a Mexican friend. Roast chicken dinner washed down with Pacifico beer. Brandon and Jonny were the first cycle tourists I'd encountered in Mexico so it was a great opportunity to share experiences and ideas.

Back on the road, south towards Zacatecas. Smooth riding, undulating rather than hilly. In central Mexico I'm still at quite an altitude, over 7000ft, sometimes rising to above 8000ft. I'm pretty keen to keep my hand in with the camping (though this is only my fourth camp in a month in Mexico). There's a skill to finding decent campsites and I suppose wild camping requires a bit of nerve. This one will go down as a success, close to the road but well secluded, dry and level, no mosquitoes and, at night, with clear skies and a bright moon, a spectacular show of stars and light so bright that it cast a strong shadow. 

After camping I had the unexpected pleasure of riding through Sombrerete, a small town with a delightful colonial centre. After years of backpacking with Lonely Planets or Rough Guides I'm travelling without a travel guide so often have no idea of what's coming up; this little town was an early morning treat. 

Food theme! Leaving Sombrerete I couldn't resist having a second breakfast in this quaint little Chinese diner. As mentioned on Facebook, the large portions weighed me down for the rest of the day but, for a few extra minutes in town, it was worth it. 

Yes, during the three day ride between Durango and Zacatecas I have crossed the Tropic of Cancer so am now officially in the Tropics.

Humble lodgings in Fresnillo, I stayed with relatives of the people who so generously hosted me in Nuevo Casas Grandes in Chihuahua state. Again I was taken in as one of the family and my every need was seen to. 

Fresnillo is a fairly small, provincial town but still with some impressive colonial architecture. I write this post from Zacatecas which has an astonishingly beautiful centre, I will post some photos in due course.

Visiting more of the family... My host was Beto, the guy in the centre and during my stay he proudly introduced me to his friends, seemingly half of Fresnillo, and took me for a day trip to Zacatecas before I cycled on there myself. Beto is a great example of someone whose Spanish I really struggled to catch, 20% would be generous! However, he was incredibly generous and you don't need a common language to understand that he has a heart of gold.

29. Backroads Durango

Moving on from Parral I planned a five day route through rural Durango to the state capital. A direct ride on the highway would have taken three days but would surely have missed some of the best scenery and the experience of village life. On the way out of Parral I met some bikers who were fascinated by my ride. With the reluctance to leave the comforts of the city behind, I was only too happy to spend a few minutes answering their questions.

However, the journey must go on and a few hours out of Parral I finally left Chihuahua, the only state I'd been in so far, to enter Durango state. My attempts at finding a place to stay, even just a patch of ground to camp on, were pretty comical. In my intended village of rest, where there is no hotel, the first person I asked for help from was as deaf as a post, the second seemed to be the village idiot and the third, a surprisingly unhelpful priest who couldn't grant me permission to camp next to the church. I rode on to the next village, made a beeline to the next church, service in progress. I perched at the back of the church with the intention of befriending the priest at the end of the service, until I realised it was the same guy who had already been of no help to me!

In the end some locals recommended I rode on to La Presa, a reservoir 2 miles up the road. What a fantastic campspot! Just a few vultures (and mosquitoes) for company and the usual chorus of crickets and other insects. One of the most atmospheric places I've camped at and a wonderful temperature for sleeping.

 

The next day was 95% on tracks and a welcome change to riding roads. I was in no hurry but even so, it took me the best part of the day to cover 43 miles. I'd forgotten how much more demanding it is to make progress over this kind of terrain and how much tougher it is on the bike. Nonetheless, an enjoyable days riding.

Cattle grids that also do a good job at catching cyclists! Gilding across the first few effortlessly I soon lost my nerve and slipped off the edge! Horrified at all the damage I might have done to the bike, the rest of the cyclist grids were crossed at snails pace.

On arrival at San Bernardo, absolutely starving, I entered an abarotte - convenience store - which also served food. I interrupted the conversation of a group of old men drinking cokes, a tumbleweed moment. However, after hearing my story I was sat down and told to eat as much as I wanted, it was all free! Such kindness is genuinely humbling and it's hard to know what to say as thanks.

No hotels in  San Bernardo so, undaunted by  my previous failed attempt with the clergy, I went to the church again seeking refuge. The priest was away but Saul was able to receive me and, success! He was happy to give me a bed for the night and a second dinner. With all the riding in doing extra food is lapped up with enthusiasm.

Saul is studying philosophy at the church while working as a high school teacher in the village. His first lesson of the next day was geography so I joined him and his class on a little trip down to the local river to study rocks. The class clearly enjoyed the freedom of being on a field trip but I'm not sure everyone was doing what they should have been. Much like my field trips back home! Still, I chatted with some of the class, though only one girl, who'd had some schooling in the States, could speak English. This is the view from the school across San Bernardo.

And this is smiling Saul!

Moving  on from San Bernardo I crossed the Sierra Madre which involved some pretty intense climbing and wonderful descents! My photos don't do the Sierra justice but it's worth every ache and pain to ride this majestic landscape. 

In the evening I arrived at Cienega, another village with no hotel so, again, to the church. A woman I approached in the street told me the priest wasn't around but that I should ask Jesus Ramos for help. I asked her where he lived, over there, in the house with the yellow door. So, off I went to find Jesus Ramos in the house with the yellow door. I nervously introduced myself to him and within 10 minutes I was eating chile relleno at his dinner table and hearing his accounts of, as a young man, five times crossing the desert into the States, sin papeles to make a living across the border. He told me he was never refused help and assistance so now he always endeavours to help travellers.

Moving on from Cienegas, a tough 87 mile ride with three stretches of mountains to cross and the blessed relief of plains inbetween. Arriving at Nuevo Ideal in the evening I saw a hotel and, exhausted, was only too happy to take a bed for the night. Leave the priests in peace for once. I've stopped bargaining for lower room prices; firstly I'd rather support the local economy than save a few pesos for myself, secondly the prices I'm being quoted seem more than fair, I don't get the sense I'm being charged a gringo rate. Spanish helps a lot I guess. 

The start of today's ride and a clear marker of the challenge ahead. Don't worry, the road signs use kms so in fact I had less than 80 miles to cover and very few hills to cross today. I was in Durango by 3pm in a stress free ride. 

The burden of being a novelty - lots of selfies and stops for chats! Nevertheless good for the ego and people like this guy often give you snacks to take on the ride.

These kids had the right idea, it gets mighty hot in the afternoon. Fine if you're travelling at speed with the breeze, uncomfortable if you're slugging it up a mountain, sweat dripping into and stinging your eyes.

28. The road to Parral

From the Copper Canyons my next anchor point and place with a Mexican contact was Hidalgo de Parral. Taking a cursory glance at my map I estimated three days to get there. Oh how I underestimated the terrain! While I did get there in three days some of the riding was pretty brutal. Climbs and descents of 1000ft to 2000ft were pretty frequent but, the tougher the terrain, the more spectacular the scenery. My photos don't really do the landscape justice; it was a genuinely exhilarating ride, the best road riding of the trip with very little traffic to contend with for once.

Pushing on, I didn't give myself much time to stop in the villages along the way but I did enjoy the variety they added to the landscape. Especially atmospheric first thing in the morning with mist rising, cockerels crowing, people preparing breakfast, many of these villages seemed rather forgotten by time.

As posted on Facebook, this was not the most salubrious of campsites being just a few metres from the road. However, when you've put in a shift of 92 miles through the mountains, if you've got flat ground you just zip up the tent, close out the world, lie down and sleep. At the very least, my pitch was screened from the road by trees so I felt safe from any unwanted human attention. My phone just ran out of battery before I could take a picture of the previous night's pitch high up on a rocky track above a deep canyon. At night you are serenaded by a marvellous orchestra of insect sounds, chirping rhythmically from all angles. The chorus is most intense just after dark and gradually thins out through the night until, by dawn, it is silent (and time to get up). 

 Having suffered a bit (a lot) to get Parral I was relieved and in extraordinarily high spirits to arrive here. This is my first stop in a city with significant colonial architecture and such a contrast to the preceding towns and villages which have more of a ranching/farming feel to them. My gallant steed is in the bottom left of the picture; riding fully loaded through a city you attract a bit of attention, all positive, curious and good natured. 

My contact in Parral is Aida, who runs a restaurant in town. She likes beer and good food so we've been getting on well! Also, she represents part of a movement that is bringing change to attitudes in Mexico. Though the church dominates many peoples' lives here in a way that it no longer does  in the UK, there is a LGBT community across the country that is becoming more visible.

 I was honestly so hyperactively excited to be in Parral that I went to bed really late (enjoying the luxury of Wifi and streamed radio) and was up at day break to see the city waking up. Result, the rest of the day I was exhausted and listless, walking around the city like a zombie. Must make better use of rest days and/or don't ride multiple 80+ mile days through the mountains.

Better use of a rest day - proper sleep followed by visiting the local sights such as Palacio Alvarado. This was the home of a wealthy family who owned the local silver mines. They were so rich that they offered to pay Mexico's national debt. Being taken around by a guide in Spanish was a sobering lesson that I still have a long way to go with the language. While I got the gist of the message I am acutely aware that my vocabulary is fairly limited and I will need to be proactive in expanding it.

So I'll be back on the road tomorrow heading in the direction of Durango. To save myself the ignominy of retreating to camp in grotty ditches, if I can pluck up the courage, in the coming days I plan to stop in villages and ask for camping spot with the local people. Given the hospitality I've received so far, and the interest my mode of travelling generates, I can't imagine being turned away. The addition of a Mexican flag to my bike is a shameless and wholely calculated gimmick to try and ingratiate myself with the people I encounter! 

27. Autumnal wanderings through the Sierra Madre Occidental

After five days in Nuevo Casas Grandes, four with no cycling at all, I finally tore myself away from family Caraveo to continue my journey south.

The ensuing days saw me crossing back and forth over the Sierra Madre Occidental which stretches from Northern Mexico down to the border with Guatemala. Cool days with the occasional spot of rain made for pleasant riding conditions and it felt good to be back in the saddle, making progress. I stayed with a priest, Padre Gabriel, in Buenaventura. What a cool guy! It was great to see him give a highly entertaining service to the local Oaxaca community, migrant workers from the poorer south of Mexico, and enjoy a nightcap of a couple of chilled tequilas with him. This is the church next to his home.

The next day I powered on through the mountains, rising up above 8000 ft for the first time in weeks. Rusty I suppose from a few days rest I developed nagging pains in my left knee and right thigh, my first concerns of injury on the whole trip. Since then they've sorted themselves out with the help of some intensive stretching sessions but a salutary reminder that I'm not superman and, like my bike, I need to pay a bit of attention to myself to remain a well oiled machine.

Continuing south to La Junta I had the pleasure of staying with Joel and his lovely family. I really hit it off with Joel and chatting with him in Spanish was understanding 90% of what he was saying (I think!). Real sense of progress happening on the language front. Here we are standing in front of his ice cream shop, Tutti Frutti.

I gladly accepted Joel's offer to stay on a day with the family and we travelled to the state capital, also named Chihuahua, to attend a fiesta. Enormous fun to spend the afternoon talking in a mixture of Spanish and English (eldest child, Crystal, speaks good English) about Mexican and British culture dispelling a few myths and stereotypes.

 

Like me, this hummingbird is a delicate creature on a southward trajectory for the winter and our paths crossed in las Barrancas del Cobre. Heading back into the mountains again, I had a wonderful ride up to and beyond Creel deep into the heart of the Copper Canyons. One of my best days riding of the trip, with the bit between my teeth, I managed to cover 96 miles with a height gain of over 7000 ft across an undulating day. Mercifully, not a twinge of complaint from my legs and I made it to my destination just before the heavens opened for the evening.

The Copper Canyons are something of a place of pilgrimage for me having read 'Born To Run', an intriguing mix of writing about running and anthropology based on the Tarahumara people who live in the valleys of the Copper Canyons. Though this picture hints at a level of progress with corrugated iron roofs and solar panels, the Tarahumara lead a simple life, materialism an alien concept to them. Subsistence farmers -  maize, goat herding etc - they barely deal in money and many of them barely speak Spanish.

Carlos and Veyra kindly hosted me at the Copper Canyons and helped me to find the best hiking trails through the deep valleys. Each step of the way my hosts are putting me in contact with friends further  ahead on my route and this is proving to be a great way to travel. It gives me the opportunity to get to know local people and access their local knowledge, it gives me constant practice of Spanish, and helps with the budget as hotels are my greatest expense. Travelling alone it also keeps loneliness at bay! My good friend Adam Rowe, as he drove me to the airport to see me off from England, advised me to stay in hotels once in a while to give myself a break and pamper myself. Two and a half months  in I've stayed in hotels three times; I hope this doesn't disappoint him.