Jeremy's Bike Blog

I’ve got good 3G-ish coverage in Mexico so far, but not a lot of WiFi/broadband, and the only real grief I have with WordPress and blogging from my phone is around the pictures I try to include in the blog posts and what a crappy job the WordPress android app does of uploading them. The fact that it insists on uploading photos itself instead of integrating with some of the obvious photo hosting solutions is a bit broken, IMHO. So, I’m going to stop using WordPress to share photos, at least FTTB, and use instagram @raspyripple (which are also at http://facebook.com/je.calvert) instead.

I wake up at 7 and have the complimentary breakfast: eggs with ham and cheese, beans, toast, etc.  Back in the room I watch some news in Spanish while doing stretches and exercises, drink more coffee and take a bonus shower.  On the one hand, it would be good to get an early start and beat the heat, but on the other hand, if I splurge for a room, I kinda like to make the most of (or close to) the time I get to spend indoors.

I’m checked out by half past 10 and hit the supermarket that I had gone to the night before.  I get a pre-made salad, some freshly made tortillas and PB, J, and banana to go with, yogurt, granola, a mango, some bran bars, and a few liters of water.  I eat the mango out front and reminisce about my five months in India that was concluding this time two years ago, and how lucky I was that my time there overlapped with mango season.

I get underway and I resolve to just see how the highway pans out.  It’s actually not bad at all.  The shoulder is wide and completely ridable.  It’s separated from the right-most lane by a dashed line that has tighter gaps between the line segments, and it seems to mean that the shoulder can and should be used as a lane by obstructively slow vehicles.  A benefit of this system is that the shoulder has less debris in it.

I’m averaging 13+ mph after 2 hours riding, with long stretches of easy, swift riding that feels pretty good.  The woosh of semis is a bit tedious, but when I start to notice it, that just means I need to push my earbuds back in a bit more snugly.  I stop at a bridge for a dry river for some shade to have my yogurt and granola, but there’s remnants of somebody living there and it seems a bit creepy, so I continue on looking for any source of shade for a food break.  I end up using a pedestrian overpass for the highway that I find after another 4 or 5 miles, eating right along side the highway.  It’s loud and dirty, but there are so few sources of any shelter from the sun, I’m happy to settle for it.

Back on the bike, I’m hunkering down, grateful for the wide, safe-feeling shoulder, but growing increasingly tired of the monotony of the riding, when a trailer being towed by a big pickup truck passes and one of its right-side radials flies apart.  It seems at the time like it started flying apart just as it passed me, but it goes on flying apart for at least another 10 seconds after it passing, leaving those ubiquitous fragments of tire that can be seen along side and scattered about pretty much any highway anywhere in the world. I watch the truck and trailer pull in to the shoulder lane, but they don’t stop…at least not before I lose track of them on the horizon.

I get to an Oxxo at the exit from the highway to the town of Benjamin Hills, and grab a coffee and some more water.  I review the options that Google Maps is presenting to me in my request for bicycle directions from the morning’s hotel, where last I had internet, to Hermosillo, the biggest Mexican town yet for me and this tour.  I’ve already passed the one alternative to taking highway 15 all the way.  Whoops.  The next one is in a few kilometers, and I make sure to have GM set on that one and giving turn-by-turn so that at least I know when and where to consider going that alternative route.

When I get there, it is a long straight 2-lane road with no shoulder.  I stop for a few minutes to do an impromptu traffic sample, and take a photo of a hilariously honest sign that says, in English, that the hassle-free section of highway ends there. I’d seen it’s complement the day before.

Zero cars pass in either direction in the 2 minutes I’ve hung out, there’s a smiley, friendly seeming guy waiting at a bus kiosk to go in the direction I’d be going, and I kinda want to see what kind of hassle there might be upon leaving the hassle-free zone, so I take the detour, knowing full well that just because GM says that there’s a way through, doesn’t mean that there is, and it definitely doesn’t mean that it will be paved or otherwise smooth in the literal or figurative sense.

Sure enough, after going through the town about 10km in, the pavement stops.  The road is OK.  Pretty sandy in spots but not terrible.  I’m startled by what look like some kind of cat rabbits.  They have rabbit ears and heads, but freakisly long legs for rabbit and their gait is a cross between a hop like any rabbit I’ve seen, and a cat’s gallop.

A guy in a old beat up pickup stops and says there’s nothing in the direction I’m going for a long ways, and I say I know and that I’m prepared. What I don’t know is that the GM route will turn off this road, which really does go nowhere for an extremely long way. The turn off is so innocuous, I initially ignore and overshoot it by about a mile as GM quietly starts calculating a re-route despite having no connectivity, the way it does. When I double back I confirm my suspicion that the GM route has me turn onto the road that has a sign for a “Rancho Virginia”. Not great. This sign suggests there may be locked gates in my near future.

Indeed, there is. I contemplate my options, and am pretty torn. I’m about 2 hours invested into this route. On the other hand, I have no idea who owns this ranch. There are 3 padlocks linked into the chain that keeps the gate closed, which is a good sign: There’s more than one key to open the gate. I’m evenly torn, so I flip a coin to decide, and the toss is won by the “jump the gate” side. I de-bag, hoist, and re-bag, and I’m on my way. Headphones are off and ears and eyes are peeled. What if this ranch belongs to a narco? I’m not sure if I’m having these thoughts to psych myself out for the fun of it, or if it’s my better judgement telling me I’m being excessively stupid.

I get to a second gate and am glad to see a sign announcing that Rancho Virginia is an ecological reserve and that firearms and other unfriendly things are prohibited. I’m also glad to see it’s unlocked, so I let myself through and proceed. I cover a pretty smooth 5 miles or so and then a guy on an ATV comes up from the opposite direction. I try to say some stuff in Spanish. He smiles and shrugs, not seeming alarmed, surprised, or even particularly interested in what I’m doing there, and then we’re each on our way again.

In another mile or so, I come upon a ranch house, and from a distance, the road appears to end at it. I see someone under an awning, and when I wave, they quickly go inside. I ride up and a couple of dogs start barking and approaching me. They’re older dogs and loud but not particularly menacing. Then a stable full of cattle all rush out towards me. Cows are usually so meek and skittish, it’s kinda cute to see them exert themselves. Maybe they’re even bulls, but they, like the dogs, clearly have no real intention of engaging with me. But also like the dogs, they’re being quite vocal.

As I approach, I say “I have a question” in my crappy Spanish. No answer. The road I’m trying to follow goes around the house, so I take it. I take a wrong turn and have to double back to within visibility of the house and get to a barbed-wire gate (the kind where it’s barbed wire lashed to sticks stretched across the opening) and let myself through that. I’m really not enjoying any of this, but I’m so far in to this route choice, I just push through. I get to another locked gate, but I think jumping this one is going to get me off of the private property, so I do. Now I’m on a road that parallels train tracks, and those tracks definitely go to the next town, so worst case I can make my way through two sets of fences to them and walk the rest of the way, though that would take ages, it’s another 20 miles to town.

The road is pretty solid, though has plenty of sand traps. The sun is setting, so I stop in the sandy bed of a dried river and eat with plans to stay there for the night. A train passes by with a lot of people hanging out on it. I hear what sounds like could be people’s voices approaching, so I quickly move my stuff further up the river bed and further away from the road. I end up not seeing anybody for the duration of my time on the road, but a cow takes its sweet time making a lot of rustling noise, coming down an embankment, at which point I can use my bike headlamp to confirm that it is in fact just a cow. Honestly, there was almost no chance it was anything else.

In the morning, I continue on. Three or four times per mile I have to dismount and push my bike through sand, but I’m making pretty good progress. I get to a gate where just on the other side is a trailer. The gate’s not locked, but I can hear someone in the trailer talking. I call out to them and ask if it’s possible to go through the gate and get to Hermosillo by continuing on. He confirms on both counts and lets me through that gate, and another one that puts me on what I’m guessing is railroad right-of-way. After a few more miles, I get to town. I grab some much needed coffee and contemplate whether to quit while I’m ahead, w.r.t. the dirt roads and ranch hopping, or make my way back to the highway. I decide to continue on the dirt roads, but the road South out of town is super dusty, I take a small tumble, and re-decide that I’m done with unpaved for a while.

I get back to the highway, and the shoulder is still there, so it’s just heads down, pounding out the miles, pushing the water through. Signal is fine along the highway, so I’ve passed some time finding a hostel in Hermosillo that is only $2.50 per night, in case the WarmShowers host that I’ve connected falls through.

About 35 miles out from Hermosillo, I notice long after it must have pulled over, that a red car is stopped on the side of the road, and there’s a guy standing next to it. As I approach, I can see that he’s holding out a half liter bottle of water that is maybe 1/3 full. A comically small amount of water relative to the 4 liters that my supply is currently at. But his expression is proud, and the gesture is very kind. I thank him but say I’m good. His English is highly fluent, and he asks if I have a place to stay in Hermosillo, and I say I do. He gives me his contact info and says to get in touch if that falls through, or if I’d just like to join him and some friends at Buffalo Wild Wings that evening to watch the Golden State Warriors play Oklahoma in an NBA semi-final. This honestly doesn’t sound like much my cup of tea, so I take the info thinking that I’ll most likely not take him up on his offer.

When I get into Hermosillo, I haven’t heard back from the WarmShowers host and have given up on that prospect so I go directly to the hostel. It is pretty clearly not open, with the door gated and a good amount of windswept debris piled up around the gate. I call the numbers on the sign and nobody answers.

I start looking at hotel options, and there are a couple in town, but then I think that there’s no good reason to not get in touch with Moises, the guy that I met on the road, and that my disinclination to go to a Buffalo Wild Wings is just snobbery on my part. I call and we figure out a plan to meet at the place he’s staying. He actually lives in Magdalena, a town I passed through a couple days before, but on the weekends he comes to Hermosillo, where he has friends and family, and stays in a house belonging to a friend of his. I go there and wait, and Moises arrives a few minutes later. Along with our coordinating on the phone, he’s so laid back and welcoming I’m immediately sure that I made the right choice by taking him up on his offer. I grab a quick shower, and then we’re off to watch the game. I’m rushing because the game starts at 6 and my shower has delayed us a bit, to which he explains that Mexicans aren’t big on rushing and I shouldn’t worry about it. On the ride over, I learn that he’s 27, in sales for a meat distributing company and quickly working his way up the ranks, and that after the game we’ll probably meet up with some other friends and go to the Festival del Pitic, a celebration of the founding of the city, and which I’m quite lucky to be in town for.

After a long (85 mile) day in hot desert, to be in a Buffalo Wild Wings surrounded by big screen TVs, cold beer, AC, and wings is a bit surreal. His friends all speak English fluently, and are all extremely friendly and seem excited to talk to me. Moises had casually mentioned his “friend from Seattle” would be joining him, but as he expected, they brushed it off as one of his passing, odd jokes. The game is a good one, with the group rooting for GSW who are trailing for pretty much the entire game, but pull off a victory in the last seconds.

It’s dark out when we leave and say goodbye to that group of friends. We go to pick up another friend, Leonardo, nicknamed Chippy, grab some beers, and go to a party in the center of town, within the larger festival, at a place belonging to a friend of theirs. A few years earlier he had acquired the place in bad shape. But he’s an architect and he restored it, and the party on a covered rooftop overlooking the rest of the festival is fantastically reaping the benefits. I meet at least a dozen mutual friends of Moises, Chippy and our host, all of whom speak English, mostly very fluently. The party reminds me of great parties of younger times in Seattle, before my peers and I grew up and slowed down. There’s pieces of performance art interspersed by live music. Some is improvisational, all of it is fantastic. There’s a raw, earnest energy that clearly comes across from everyone I talk to, and if this is any indication of the city at large, there are going to be some very exciting things coming out of Hermosillo.

At about 2am, we make our exit from the party in search of an open taco stand. Chippy is a foodie and even though his first choice has just closed, his second choice is mind-blowingly delicious. Moises and Chippy fill me in on the plans they had informed me were hatched at the party: we’re going to do a day trip to Guaymas tomorrow, eat some great food, hike around some really cool canyons, and hit the beach. It will be the first time doing this hike for Moises as well.

It’s not until well after 3am that we go to sleep, with alarms set for 9:30am. Moises does so by simply kicking off shoes and sprawling out on a couch in the living room, so I follow suit. There is AC and a fan on, which is a bit cool for me, so at some point I grab my puffy jacket to use as a tiny blanket, but otherwise, the sleep is immediate and deep.

In the morning, we grab coffees as we head out of town. Chippy works in environmental conservation, and points out all the interesting things, like jumping cactus on the roadside.

In Guaymas town, we stop at Mariscos “El Mazitanos”, a popular seeming restaurant for lunch and Chippy orders: Seafood platter, octopus and fish tacos. It’s all delicious, and the octopus is not chewy like it is at sushi restaurants. We also lament the diminutive tentacle sizes owing to overfishing.

Then we hike one of the many canyons of the Canyon de Nacapule. These are narrow canyons in the middle of the desert (though, near the coast) with fresh water springs that bring life to narrow but dense strips of tropical foliage. It’s really unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

Then we grab a few beers and head to a beach, where we swim among flying manta rays, and I start to realize that the last 36 hours have been almost non-stop as I doze off for a few minutes.

I continue to doze and come to in the car ride back. Chippy points out an Oxxo that is about halfway along the long dry stretch between Hermosillo and Guaymas, which will be a key piece of information when I make the ride back by bike the following day.

It’s dark when we get back to Hermosillo, and we hit a hot dog stand for dinner, where I have my first, famous, Sonoran hot dog. This one was a dog plus chorizo inside a green chile wrapped in bacon with chiles, cheese, onions, and too many other condiments to recall all served on a massive, spongy bun.

Back at Moises’ pad, I bid farewell to Chippy. We talk about the two of them coming up to Seattle and me getting to return the favor, and I sincerely hope this happens.

I go with Moises to run some errands, but I’m completely thrashed. I can’t keep my eyes open, and he lets me stay in the car. Before he goes on his last errand, to meet a woman for a sort of pre-date date (decide if they should commit to going on a real date), he gratefully first takes me back to the flat so that I can pass out from an exhaustion that had taken 36 hours to catch up to me.

The next morning, Monday, we got an early start as Moises had to get back to work in Magdelena, and I was on my way.

That’s 48 hours ago as of this writing. I’ll get more caught up soon…I hope!