June 25 to 30, 2004

June 25th
Once again we coast down long hills past stunning mountain landscapes for so long that my hands hurt from leaning forwards on the handlebars. We pass purple cliffs, what the hell! Who ever said that something so sumptuous could exist anyway! The uphill starts and all my symptoms of fatigue come rushing back so we stop for an early lunch. I feel restless and don’t want to stop in spite of the need. My body forces the decision and I lie panting in the shade of an abandoned building while Johanne prepares lunch. Jo’s better judgment says to camp here but my restlessness gets the upper hand and we move out. A man on the side of the road carrying a small cactus tells us we have 50km of uphill ahead of us and I’m feeling bad again so we look for a flat spot to put up the tent, not an easy task in the mountains. The road curves to the right and we follow a gravel track off to the left into a little sunken valley strewn with many a piece of garbage. We set up the tent and soon realize that we’re in hell. The lack of air movement makes for many bugs and bug us they do as we do our best to sleep through the sweltering night. We decide to hitch hike to a doctor if I’m not better in the morning.

Saturday June 26th
I take a multi vitamin left to us by Casey this morning but I feel better anyway. It’s the first day that I have awoken without a headache since the early morning start in Oaxaca. Our roadside cactus-carrying informant from the day before was wrong about the road as people who drive cars tend to be, we climb a lot, but not 50km. After some relatively hard biking we coast down and down into the town of El Camaron where we do Internet into the evening and sleep in a hotel for the night to make good the recuperation.

June 27th
We make some preparations, do some more Internet and head out in the afternoon with a sandwich in our bellies to fuel the 14km climb. At the top we spot a precious open meadow studded with pines and overlooking the mountains. Here is our sublime campsite where we make a fire and drink mezcal end enjoy the smells of the mountain forest.

June 28th
We coast down and down and down long hills enjoying the great open spaces but missing each others company as we can’t ride too close when we don’t obey the 30km/h speed limit. We pass many maguey plantations. These cacti need to grow for 12 years before they’re ripe for the mezcal making. We stop for lunch at a roadside restaurant and are told that we’ll soon be out of the mountains. The terrain levels out and we’re soon rolling past farmer’s fields. I happily find and grab a gray checked shirt on the side of the road in perfect condition it even smells like soap. We ask a farmer if we can sleep in his field and he points us out the best spot. Unfortunately the wind has died down, whereas before our sweating bikers bodies were pleasantly cooled we now sweat even in the absence of sun. The heat that is a sign of our increasing proximity to the coast is accompanied by tiny blackflies who molest our cooking but leave us alone to enjoy Johanne’s wonderful mole (Mexican black sauce of pureed nuts, 12 kinds of hot peppers, and many an ingredient I do not know) and of course we partake in a slight nightcap of mezcal.

June 29th
We continue down the road, the landscape is rolling and we have a few minor hills to climb before screeching down a long slope into Tehuantepec. The landscape often reminds me of the Baja California with its tall cacti and mesquite trees had there only been rain on the Baja. We pass a military checkpoint and the authorities decide to question Johanne thoroughly on her marital status. We are completely out of water and upon our arrival at our hotel in Tehuantepec I squeeze some maguey juice down my throat, the mezcal lady gave us a good chunk of the smoked fruit. We spend the afternoon doing errands and acquire a few items that are lacking.

June 30th
We spend the day updating our trip logs and doing some maintenance and repairs on our equipment. I patch all the little holes that have been letting ants into Mary through her tent floor. I also drive a tiny wooden wedge into my helmet’s Styrofoam so that the visor will stop flapping in the wind as it has been doing for a good three months. The people in this town are nice, very helpful and open (I attribute this to a complete lack of tourists). I contact Maya Pedal in Guatemala by phone, they sound happy that we’ll be visiting them.