Follow the chronicle of a great tour of various states by bike!
SAN LUIS POTOSI
We had passed the hills, but we were wrong to think that for this reason this part would be much easier. The truth is that there are no flat roads; by car the road stretches to the horizon and seems flat, but by bicycle you realize that you are always going down or up; and the 300 km of swings from San Luis Potosí to Zacatecas were among the heaviest of the trip. And it is very different when you have a climb like in the mountains, you take a rhythm and you know that you are going to pass it, but with the swings low a little and to sweat with a rise, and again, and again.
ZACATECAS
But the reward was enormous, because there is something indescribable in the atmosphere of this area of the country, and the openness of the landscape invites you to feel free. And the sunsets! I am not saying that sunsets are not beautiful in other places, but in this area they become sublime moments; they make you stop making the tent or the food and stop to fill yourself with that light, with the air, with the whole environment that seems to be greeting God and thanking for life.
DURANGO
Wrapped in this landscape we continue to the city of Durango, camping to enjoy the imposing and peaceful beauty of the Sierra de Órganos. On the outskirts of the city, the thermometer went below zero (-5) for the first time, forming frost on the canvases of the tents, making us taste our first frozen breakfast and showing us the beginning of what awaited us in Chihuahua.
In Durango we changed route following the only correct advice on roads that we received (strangely from an Italian traveler, and instead of going up between hills towards Hidalgo del Parral, we headed towards Torreón on a fairly flat road, with the wind in favor and in amidst beautiful landscapes, a paradise for cyclists.
COAHUILA
Torreón received us with pilgrimages for the Virgin of Guadalupe and the open heart of the Samia family, sharing their home and their lives with us for a few days, reinforcing our belief in the goodness of the people of Mexico and the beauty of our family tradition. .
From Durango our families reported to us the weather conditions in Chihuahua, and with a worried voice they told us of minus 10 degrees in the mountains, or that it had snowed in Ciudad Juárez. They wondered how we were going to do with the cold and, to tell the truth, so were we. Will the clothes we bring be enough? How do you pedal at less than 5 degrees? What happens if it snows in the mountains ?: questions we did not know how to answer.
And with a very Mexican "well, let's see what comes out", we continue pedaling. The distances between towns allowed us the wonder of camping in the north, among the cacti, and the next day the thorns were charged with more than one flat tire. We woke up below zero, the jugs of water made ice, but the days were clear and early in the morning the temperature for pedaling was ideal. And it was on one of those radiant days that we managed to exceed 100 km traveled in one day. Reason for celebration!
CHIHUAHUA
We were floating. When one follows his heart, happiness radiates and confidence is created, as with Dona Dolores, who asked permission to touch our legs, with a nervous smile on her lips and encouraging the girls in the restaurant to do the same: You have to take advantage of it! ”he told us while we laughed, and with that smile we entered the city of Chihuahua.
Wishing to share our journey, we approached the newspapers of the cities on our route and the article in the Chihuahua newspaper captured people's attention. More people greeted us on the road, some were waiting for us to pass through their city and they even asked us for autographs.
We did not know where to enter it, we heard of roads closed due to snow and temperatures of minus 10. We thought we would go north and cross on the Agua Prieta side, but it was longer and there was a lot of snow; through Nuevo Casas Grandes it was shorter but too much walking on the slopes of the hills; For Basaseachic the temperatures were minus 13 degrees. We decided to return to the original route and cross to Hermosillo through Basaseachic; In any case, we had planned to go up to Creel and the Copper Canyon.
“Wherever they are at Christmas, there we reach them,” my cousin Marcela had told me. We decided that it was Creel and he arrived there with my nephew Mauro and a Christmas dinner in his suitcases: romeritos, cod, punch, even a little tree with everything and spheres !, and they made in the middle of minus 13 degrees, our complete Christmas Eve and full of home warmth.
We had to say goodbye to that warm family and head towards the mountains; The days were being clear and there was no announcement of any snowfall, and we had to take advantage of it, so we headed towards the almost 400 km of mountains that we needed to reach Hermosillo.
In the mind was the consolation of having reached the middle of the trip, but to pedal you have to use your legs - this was a good grip between mind and body - and they no longer gave. The days in the mountains seemed to be the last of the trip. The mountains kept appearing one after another. The only thing that improved was the temperature, we went down towards the coast and it seemed that the cold was staying in the highest of the mountains. We were getting to the bottom of things, really spent, when we found something that changed our spirits. He had told us about another cyclist who was riding in the mountains, although at first we did not know how he could help us.
Tall and slim, Tom was the classic Canadian adventurer who walks the world unhurriedly. But it was not his passport that changed our situation. Tom lost his left arm years ago.
He had not left home since the accident, but the day came when he decided to ride his bicycle and ride the roads of this continent.
We talked for a long time; We give him some water and we say goodbye. When we started we no longer felt that little pain, which now seemed insignificant, and we did not feel tired. After meeting Tom we stopped complaining.
SONORA
Two days later the saw was finished. After 12 days we had crossed every meter of the 600 km of the Sierra Madre Occidental. People heard us screaming and didn't understand, but we had to celebrate, although we didn't even bring money.
We arrived in Hermosillo and the first thing we did, after visiting the bank, was go buy ice cream - we ate four each - before even considering where we would sleep.
They interviewed us on the local radio, made our note in the newspaper and once again the magic of the people enveloped us. The people of Sonora gave us their hearts. In Caborca, Daniel Alcaráz and his family adopted us outright, and shared their life with us, making us part of the joy of the birth of one of their granddaughters by naming us adoptive uncles of the new member of the family. Surrounded by this rich human warmth, rested and with a full heart, we hit the road again.
The north of the state also has its charms, and I am not talking only about the beauty of its women, but about the magic of the desert. It is here where the heat of the south and the north of the gulf find a logic. We plan the trip to cross the deserts in winter, escaping the heat and snakes. But it wasn't going to be free either, again we had to push the wind, which at this time is blowing hard.
Another challenge in the north are the distances between city and city -150, 200 km-, because apart from sand and cacti there is little to eat in case of emergency. The solution: load more stuff. Food for six days and 46 liters of water, which sounds easy, until you start to pull.
The Altar desert was becoming very long and the water, like patience, was becoming less. They were difficult days, but we were encouraged by the beauty of the landscape, the dunes and the sunsets. They had been solitary stages, focused on the four of us, but to get to San Luis Río Colorado, contact with the people came back in a group of cyclists who were returning by truck from a competition in Hermosillo. Smiles, handshakes and the kindness of Margarito Contreras who offered us his house and a basket of bread when we arrived in Mexicali.
Before leaving Altar, I wrote many things about the desert in my diary: “… there is only life here, as long as the heart asks for it”; ... we believe that it is an empty place, but in its tranquility life vibrates everywhere ”.
We arrived at San Luis Río Colorado tired; Because the desert had taken so much energy from us, we crossed the city quietly, almost sad, looking for a place to camp.
BAJA CALIFORNIAS
Leaving San Luis Río Colorado, we came across the sign that announced that we were already in Baja California. At the moment, without there being a sane between us, we became jubilant, we started pedaling as if the day had started and with shouts we celebrated that we had already passed 121 of the 14 states of our route.
Leaving Mexicali was very strong, because in front of us was La Rumorosa. Since we started the trip they told us: "Yes, no, better cross through San Felipe." He was a giant created in our mind, and now the day had come to face him. We had calculated about six hours to go up, so we left early. Three hours and fifteen minutes later we were at the top.
Now, Baja California is downright low. The federal police recommended that we spend the night there, as the Santa Ana winds were blowing hard and it was dangerous to walk on the highway. The next morning we left for Tecate, finding some trucks overturned by the gusts of wind from the previous afternoon.
We had no control of the bikes, pushed by something invisible, suddenly the push from the right, sometimes from the left. On two occasions I was pulled off the road, totally out of control.
In addition to the forces of nature, who were infatuated, we had serious problems with the bearings of the trailers. By the time they arrived in Ensenada they were already thundering like peanuts. There was not the part we needed. It was a matter of improvisation - like everything else on this trip - so we used bearings of a different size, we turned the shafts and put them under pressure, knowing that if it failed us, we would get there. Our composure took a few days, but here too we were welcomed with open arms. The Medina Casas family (Alex's uncles) shared their home and their enthusiasm with us.
Sometimes we wondered if we had done something to deserve what we were given. People treated us with such special affection that it was difficult for me to understand. They gave us food. crafts, photos and even money. "Don't tell me no, take it, I'm giving it to you with my heart," a man told me who offered us 400 pesos; on another occasion, a boy handed me his baseball: "Please take it." I didn't want to leave him without his ball, plus there wasn't much to do with it on the bike; but it is the spirit of sharing something that matters, and the ball is on my desk, here in front of me, reminding me of the richness of the Mexican heart.
We also received other gifts, Kayla arrived while we were resting in Buena Vista -a town next to the highway leaving Ensenada-, now we had three dogs. Maybe she was two months old, her race undefined, but she was so flirtatious, friendly and intelligent that we couldn't resist.
In the last interview they did with us - on Ensenada television - they asked us if we considered the peninsula to be the most difficult stage of the trip. I, without knowing it, answered no, and I was very wrong. We suffer Baja. Sierra after sierra, cross winds, long distances between town and town and the heat of the desert.
We were lucky all the trip, as most of the people respected us on the road (especially the truck drivers, although you might think otherwise), but we still saw her close several times. There are inconsiderate people everywhere, but here they almost flatten us a couple of times. Fortunately we finished our trip without setbacks or accidents to regret. But it would be great to make people understand that 15 seconds of your time is not important enough to put someone else's (and their dogs) life at risk.
In the peninsula, the transit of foreigners who travel by bicycle is unique. We met people from Italy, Japan, Scotland, Germany, Switzerland and the United States. We were strangers, but there was something that united us; For no reason, a friendship was born, a connection that you can only understand when you have traveled by bicycle. They looked at us with amazement, a lot for the dogs, a lot for the amount of weight we pulled, but more for being Mexican. We were strangers in our own country; they commented: "It's that Mexicans don't like to travel like this." Yes we like it, we saw the spirit throughout the country, we just didn't let it go free.
BAJA CALIFORNIA SOUTH
Time passed and we continued in the middle of that land. We had calculated to finish the trip in five months and it was already the seventh. And it is not that there were no good things, because the peninsula is full of them: we camped in front of the Pacific sunset, we received the hospitality of the people of San Quintín and Guerrero Negro, we went to see the whales at the Ojo de Liebre lagoon and we We marveled at the forests of chandeliers and the valley of the candles, but our fatigue was no longer physical, but emotional, and the desolation of the peninsula helped little.
We had already passed the last of our challenges, the El Vizcaíno Desert, and seeing the sea again gave us back a bit of the spirit that we had been left with somewhere in the desert.
We passed through Santa Rosalía, Mulegé, the incredible bay of Concepción and Loreto, where we said goodbye to the sea to head towards Ciudad Constitución. Already here a quiet euphoria began to form, a feeling that we had achieved it, and we hurried the march towards La Paz. However, the road was not going to let us go so easy.
We began to have mechanical problems, especially with Alejandro's bicycle, which was just falling apart after 7,000 km. This caused friction between us, as there were days when it was a matter of going by truck to the nearest town to fix his bicycle. That could mean that I waited eight hours in the middle of the desert. I could bear that, but when the next day it thundered again, there I did.
We were certain that after living together for seven months traveling, there were two possibilities: either we strangled each other, or the friendship grew stronger. Luckily it was the second, and when it burst after a few minutes we ended up laughing and joking. Mechanical problems were fixed and we left La Paz.
We were less than a week from the goal. In Todos Santos we met again with Peter and Petra, a German couple who were traveling with their dog on a Russian motorcycle from World War II, and in the atmosphere of camaraderie that is felt on the road, we went to look for a place opposite to the beach where to camp.
From our saddlebags came a bottle of red wine and cheese, from theirs cookies and guava candy and from all of them the same spirit of sharing, of the privilege we had of meeting the people of our country.
THE GOAL
The next day we finished our trip, but we did not do it alone. All the people who shared our dream were going to enter Cabo San Lucas with us; from those who opened their house to us and made us unconditionally part of their family, to those who on the side of the road or from the window of their car gave us their support with a smile and a wave. That day I wrote in my diary: “People watch us go by. ..Children look at us like those who still believe in pirates do. Women look at us with fear, some because we are strangers, others with concern, as only those who have been mothers do; but not all men look at us, those who do, I think, are only those who dare to dream ”.
One, two, one, two, one pedal behind the other. Yes, it was a reality: we had crossed Mexico by bicycle.
Source: Unknown Mexico No. 309 / November 2002
