Jeremy's Bike Blog

I was all but decided that I would take a hiatus from the bike tour, flying home to Seattle from Mexico City to wait out the heat come mid-July.  The seed was planted as I started my North-South traverse of the Sonoran desert, and the notion flowered as I took on this arid expanse, day in day out for, what, a few weeks?  But reaching the beach in Mazatlan, the oasis that was the Funky Monkey, then continuing on and realizing how much of a stride I’ve hit, I’m pretty solidly not inclined to cut this short, even temporarily.

It also helps that I’ve gotten to a region where pay accommodations (bed, shower, walls and usually AC and other luxuries) are available for $10-20/night, a negligible amount, even for my hyper-frugality (though I know not for many bicycle travelers).

Here’s the stride I’ve hit, at least the last few days.  I wake up and take my time to get going, not setting out until as late as noon sometimes, finding then eating a big breakfast, drinking probably too much coffee, and watching whatever city I’m in wake up in the process.  Then I head back to the room, where I’ll do some exercising of the 90% of my body that will be not getting it on the bike (bicycling is not a great workout), then shower, then do an exhaustive application of sunscreen.  Once I get going, I set a destination goal within a few hours, and push myself as needed to reach it.   Ideally, it’s a little ambitious, unless there’s a destination that justifies going a slower so that I can spend at least the night there. As much as possible, I stick to roadside fruit stands and grills, and avoid Oxxo’s (the ubiquitous Mexican convenience store) for mid-ride re-fuelings.  I don’t like to eat all that much when I’m riding any more.  Used to be that I couldn’t eat enough, but now I don’t feel particularly hungry until I know I’m done for the day.  If my goal for the day is modest and the proprietor seems happy (if not eager) to have me take a break with them, I’ll take one or more of these as opportunities to hang out and work on my Spanish.  There are many fold more interesting and delicious looking places than can be stopped at if I’m going to meet my daily goal, but then, this is the very point of the daily goal.  I enjoy becoming a stronger rider and farther-reaching explorer more than I feel I’d enjoy becoming an uber conesuer of tacos and mangos.  Come evening, of late, rather than scoping out camping possibilities, I’m rolling into a small city, larger than a town, but small enough that there are literally hundreds of them per state, I’d estimate, and delighting in the character of the place.  As the sun goes down, these small cities come alive.  I check in to my chosen accommodation, shower up, unload the bike, then cruise town, basically eating my way through it.  I’ll start with a savory, seafood or meat, then another, then move on to a frozen thing, say handmade popsicle or chocolate covered banana, then some more treats to bring back to the room, where I’ll watch a little soccer (there’s always some on, Copa Cup, in particular) and then pass the eff out.

Ok, so that more or less covers the last couple of days.  The two nights before that (and after my last post), I spent the day tooling around Mazatlan, enjoying the perks of a big, resort-y city by day.  The second night I spent at the Funky Monkey, I joined the staff and another guest for a farewell meal for one of the staff.  Other than Salem, the owner, they’re doing work-aways, a program where you contribute to the work required to run a hostel, in exchange for board, and maybe some other comp (I haven’t asked).  My third and final night there was a Friday night.  A fun couple came to stay the night and we basically hung out and partied, also going out to catch game 4 of the NBA finals.  The party ended up on the roof, which is where I decided to sleep that night (no, not pass out, just go to sleep).

That night, I’d talked excitedly with the couple that had arrived that evening, and who were travelling by large van, about putting my bike in their van and travelling with them for a ways.  Even if it were for one day, we’d cover more ground than I would cover in over a week.  It seemed like a great idea that night, but come next morning, I was less excited about turning my bike tour into a bike and hitchhiking thing.  Also, they were packed and ready to go by the time I was finishing waking up and showering.  We agreed it still sounded like fun, but were torn on whether or not we should go forward with the plan, so I said that we should flip a coin, which they immediately got and agreed with.  The coin said I should not catch a ride with them, and that was that.  I’m sure they would have been a blast to get to know more, but like ferry hopping, I also think it’s a slippery slope to start combining hitchhiking and easier transport options into the mix.  And for what?  I really don’t have an ultimate destination objective.

I want to also mention Eric, a Mexican I shared a dorm room with, and who has been staying there an extended amount of time.  He is, I can tell, even though I only spent maybe an hour talking with him, and excellent teacher.  He’s passionate about mesoamerican history in the region, and he instinctively weaves in spanish at a rate to optimize benefit to my learning of it.  He’s yet another reason I really enjoyed my time at the Funky Monkey.

Come Saturday morning, post-coin-flip, I was really tempted to hang out and stay another night.  Salem and the other staff had ordered delivery of smoothies and pizza and were basically taking the day off, and this seemed in many ways so much more appealing than climbing on my bike and heading out into the heat to exacerbate my already low level of hydration.  But eventually that’s what I did, and it turned out to be a good call. The day was brilliant, and once I was out of the city into some tropical countryside, it felt soothing.

That said, Salem had mentioned in passing, the day before, the possibility of me contributing some work in exchange for board, and this has planted another seed.  I’m now easily more inclined to make my way back to Mazatlan (say, by bus, from Puerto Vallarta when I get there in a day or three) and work on the construction of a room on the rooftop that it seems they could use help with, and have Eric teach me Spanish and history for a while (figuring out some arrangement that he’d be happy with), than I am to pull the plug and fly back to Seattle.  Coin flips are not to be trifled with, but this might call for one.  If you, dear reader, have an opinion, I’m all ears.

Anyways, I’m writing this from San Blas.  I’m in a super cheap hostel-type thing that I found on AirBnB run by a self-identifying ‘old hippy’ that has a fridge full of essentials on sale, on the honor system.  I think I’ll stay at least the day tomorrow to surf.

The wifi here seems pretty solid, so at the risk of frustrating myself with WordPress’s fickleness when pictures are involved, I’m going to throw in some in…