July 3rd to 6th, 2004

July 3
Morning dawns and we down our leftovers as the sun turns our tent into a sauna named Mary. Johanne is still incapable of movement and staying here means baking and succumbing to the will of the considerable local population of insects. As my love pants under a tree, I pack our gear with sweat pouring off my face. We had thought that we’d gone through the hottest in coastal Guerrero but it looks like the summer sun packs a punch in spite of the almost daily rain. We coast down hill back into Tapanapana bo bana tepec and relax under a ceiling fan for two days waiting for the energy levels to recharge. We have all the tools necessary for this: popcorn, carrots, and coffee. Not to mention a mini guitar.

Big bangs from ba____d mechanics

July 5th
We wanted to beat the heat and head out at 7am but Johanne needs to sleep and seems to have caught a good dose of diarrhea to go along with the fatigue. We leave later and luckily the long rain of the day before has left us with cooler temperatures and clouds to shield us from a sun that would otherwise have stopped our advancement. Before leaving completely we get our tires topped up at a tire shop of which there are millions along the roads in Mexico. Immediately afterwards I notice that my rear rim is bulging outwards slightly and rubbing on the brakes. Because of a mounting frustration about being stuck in Tapana I detach my breaks and we hit the road with the intention of fixing it later. We ride upwards past our sleeping spot of July 2nd and continue down a 2km slope, over a cute little river and upwards once again.

A large valley spreads out on our right divvied up into patches of different colours according to who did what and how she cultivated it. At this point my wheel fixes itself for good. Our mechanic Christian back in Oaxaca as you may remember told me that my rim would not be weakened if he bent it back into shape (I fart in his general direction). My rim however agrees not and with a pistol shot bang the metal separates along the seem he bent back sending my bike shooting sideways with the sudden release of air pressure. It all happens in an instant, I get scared so bad I almost soil my bike shorts. Lucky thing, we’re going uphill and no cars are wizzing by at break-Francis’s-neck speeds. Had the circumstances been different I may have lost my life. The extreme humidity this morning had us riding without helmets (something we practically never do).

My wheel has instantly become a useless hunk of deformed and twisted metal, the tire is fine however and a truck soon stops to take us into our first Chiapas village. We hang out at the gas station asking for rides to the next big city, Tuxtla, where repairs could be forthcoming. A truck stops and we join a covered cargo of kids toys for the ride. Two hours go by as we sit on boxes of tot’s bicycles and stare at a red tarp with many patches, the scenery outside is there, but we don’t see it. We arrive at the home of Daniel Molino. Daniel Jr. is about our age and soon takes us downtown with his friends Beto and Leo who make fun of him every time his old car rubs a speed bump with a lovely crunch. We look for a new wheel and after about five shops who only have bad quality rims (as far as carrying weight and getting to Argentina goes) we find some professional mountain bike racers who give us the phone number of a supplier/distributor who who can order whatever we need.

We have planned to spend about three weeks in San Cristobal de las Casas about 80km away so this seems to be a good option. In the evening we hang out with Daniel and his chums who buy twelve liters of beer for the four of us who drink. They whip us up a dinner of “tortas” submarine sandwiches and we spend a few hours talking about everything under the sun. In the early evening I call the supplier and he says he might have a rim I can use in stock. He says he’ll call back but midnight rolls around with no response. Johanne and I crawl into a camping van parked outside Dan’s house. The mosquitoes and the humidity keep us from sleeping until about two when we discover screened windows and have killed all the beasties.

July 6th
The long day yesterday didn’t help with Johanne’s chronic fatigue. I order a rim by phone, which should arrive in about five days and Daniel jr. drives us out to the road with Johanne’s bike to hitch up the mountain. In the searing heat of the afternoon we try to stop a car and are soon squishing into the back of a tiny red pick-up with two kids, Bertrand, and all my saddlebags. The wind moves the skin around on my face as Johanne talks to the kids, we speed into Chiapa de Corzo and are dropped off in a filling station. After lots of no luck with gas station clients Jo stops another red pick-up, this time we’re alone in the back and once again the ride is short, but we have made it to the highway. A short while later a man in a blue shirt says yes my request for a ride after some careful deliberation. We head up an extremely long slope in a white rickety pick-up. The road turns hairy as we leave the private toll road for the switchbacks of the freeway. We rattle past little villages under an incredible sky. Quite some time before arriving the air gets chilly. We arrive in the outskirts of town just before sunset and walk downtown through the rising darkness. Multiple queries head us in the right direction and we end up in a nice cheap hostel two blocks from downtown.