El Camino a Zacatecas (1)

[ Zacatecas, Mexico ]

Dearest Transglobalistas—

The first part of the ride to Zacatecas took me through San Francisco del Mezquital; through numerous private ranches; through the Reserva de la Biosfera de La Michilía (an enormous nature preserve); and past the resevoir at San Miguel de la Michilía, before eventually landing me in Suchil—just shy of the half-way point.

This journey took four and a half days, most of it very much off-road and great fun. About six of those hours were spent pushing up a steep, crumbly, unexpectedly slippery path…the only way out of my own lush, colorful, gloriously uninhabited valley. Nearly thirty hours with only a foraging javelina for company was worth all the pushing and gate-climbing.

When I did encounter human beings, I was universally treated to the benefits of Mexico’s bottomless well of hospitality. In Mezquital my benefactors were the local hotel owner and her talented daughter (tattoo artist and painter); in the backcountry my hosts were ranchers I met as I departed the land in their care; in la Michilía I met half the population while camping in the town square; and in Suchil? Well, in Suchil I was spoiled and entertained by just about every two-wheel enthusiast in town (Go RAPTORS!). [@raptors.mtbsuchil.1]

[One or more of you may be amused to learn that the city’s priest was one of my cycling hosts. And perhaps more amused to find out my capital-J Journey made it into his Sunday morning homily. <cough><blink>]

Hasta la proxima,
—jim

***********
[Y aquí está mi intento de traducir lo anterior al español]

Queridísimos transglobalistas:

La primera parte del viaje a Zacatecas me llevó por San Francisco del Mezquital; a través de numerosos ranchos privados; por la Reserva de la Biosfera de La Michilía; y a embalse en San Miguel de la Michilía, antes mi llegada en Suchil, cerca del punto medio.

Este viaje duró cuatro días y medio, la mayor parte sobre terraceria y muy divertido. Aproximadamente seis de esas horas las pasé empujando por un camino empinado y inesperadamente resbaladizo … la única salida de mi propio valle exuberante, colorido y gloriosamente deshabitado. Casi treinta horas con solo una jabalí de búsqueda de comida para compañía: perfecto!

Cuando conocí seres humanos, fui tratado universalmente con la hospitalidad famosa de México. En Mezquital mis benefactores fueron la dueña del hotel local y su talentosa hija (tatuadora y pintora); en el campo, mis anfitriones fueron rancheros que conocí cuando partí de sus tierra; en la Michilía conocí a la mitad de la población mientras acampaba en la plaza del pueblo. Y en Suchil? Pues, en Suchil estuve mimado y entretenido por casi todos los ciclistes en la ciudad (¡Vayan RAPTORES!).

[Uno o más de ustedes se divertirán al saber que el sacerdote de la ciudad fue uno de mis anfitriones ciclistas.]

Hasta la proxima,
—jim

First off: the route. These images cover the top left sleeping icon to the first purple fork-knife combo. It may not look like it, but that's about 180km of 405km total.
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Can't really enter or leave a city without fuel, and there's no fuel like (say it with me) Street Food!
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This first day I made 85km, on smooth pavement through these golden, rolling hills. I had my longest uninterrupted downhill of the trip on this route...wind-in-your-hair type of fun: like a dog with his head out the car window. (Yes, I'm easily entertained.)
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In Mezquital I asked around for a cheap hotel and was directed to some sketchy looking apartments instead. I decided to ask about the price at the "fancy" hotel in town and the proprietress instead showed me into the courtyard and allowed me to pitch camp in her lovely garden. Shelter, security, quiet, and a place to charge my devices. That would have been enough, but she also made me a hearty breakfast the next day, and introduced me to her daughter, Fatima. Fatima is a local tattoo artist and painter whose studio was also located in the courtyard, so we were neighbors for an evening. I asked if I could take some photos while she worked...
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...and she graciously agreed. (As did her client: thanks guys!)
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The ever-gracious Maria Auxilio Guzman Ontiveros, of Hotel Principal in Mezquital. If you ever pass through, please stay with her and tell her I sent you!
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The day after Mezquital was a long, slow, climb. Mostly pavement, but occasionally? Yesssss!
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For the next three days, rockfalls were a serious concern and dangerous. Aside from the age of the mountains and the near daily deluges, the main culprits are little guys like this one: wild flowers growing in every tiny fissure until...POOF!
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Early the second morning started my gate-hopping, ranch-crossing adventure. The GPS map above claims this section might be a "hassle" for heavily loaded solo riders because of "1-3" potentially locked gates. The final count, friends, was EIGHT GATES, four of them locked. Getting the panniers across was always easy, hefting Fargo up and over was not.
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Grrrrrrrr....
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On the other hand, the pay-off was pretty spectacular. No one here but us chickens.
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A pretty river crossing (only about knee deep, despite the recent rains).
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GoPro view from the shallow part.
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After the river crossing, it was going to be uphill for many hours. The good part was that there was so much tree cover you could just take a break anywhere you wanted. I took out my stove, cooked lunch (something I NEVER do during the day), and took a nap. Seems my shoes decided to do a product placement while I was sleeping?
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Adding insult to injury: another locked gate on the way up.
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On the other hand, the views! That whole valley was mine.
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The source of my new profile image, in context.
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BTS from the last shots. I know it seems like this is a real "road," but it wasn't. The climb out was only about 8km, and I MAY have been able to ride 1.5 of those. The road seemed rocky (and therefore providing traction), but instead was covered by a thin layer of white dirt. I had to walk in the cracks and crevices--using them as mini-stairs--in order to not fall on my face. (Which, yes, I did a couple of times. But hey: no video, it didn't happen!) This was a flat(ish) spot with shade and a good view, and that's pretty much the only reason I took the photo from here.
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Again: pay-off was worth it. I camped alone, with a stellar view, about 1km shy of the top. Perfect end to a special day.
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The next morning, when I was done pushing my bike up annoyingly steep slopes, I rolled into the working ranch house maintained by these two: Pedro and Hilda.
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I was able to refill my water bottles with fresh spring water, and they made me breakfast: tortillas, frijolitos y papas, fresh elotes, and coffee. Compared to the Snickers bar and powdered donuts I had planned, it was as fine a feast as one could imagine.
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Hilda also wrapped up two more cobs of corn for me to pack on the bike. (They made for a perfect road-side lunch later that day.)
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The final gate, as I left Hilda and Pedro behind. Thank goodness it wasn't locked.
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The road to San Miguel de la Michilía was devoid of humans, but there was company from time to time.
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One of the townsfolk in San Miguel de la Michilía, who sat there looking iconic when his family wasn't feeding me (even more) elote and frijoles.
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My campsite hidden at the back of the town square. It was a Friday night, and even in such a tiny village there was Nortena and Banda music blaring from various vehicles well into the wee hours. I was so tired it barely registered.
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The top of the next morning's climb, looking back at Michilía. From here it was downhill all the way to Suchil: about 17km, and a short, easy day.
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A wheels-eye view of the last bit of dirt, heading into Suchil and back onto pavimento.
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Hmmm...first thing I did upon arrival? Yep. Food. This time a very filling hamburguesa from Gorditas "Chuya."
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That's Chuya, on the left, and one of the colorful townies I met pretty much every time I returned to Gorditas Chuya (and that was quite a few times).
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In the evening, a gaggle of cyclists showed up at my hotel to introduce themselves and ask about my trip. Turns out the hotel's owner and his son are both members of the local MTB club, The Raptors of Suchil. (The gentleman in orange, on the far right, is the priest I mention in the main post.) They took me on a late evening tour of the town, and then back for more...
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...ELOTES! Yes, I absolutely love the Mexican fast-food version of corn.
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Mom is a Raptor...but even though some of the kids did come with us, this little one isn't yet ready for two-wheeled adventure. Soon, though! I think there is some special cycling-juice in the water here; everyone rides!
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Well, somehow I did manage to get everyone smiling. And this time not primarily because of my bad Spanish.
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When I first arrived in Suchil, before I found food or a room, I was taking some pictures of various facades; because facades. These two rolled up in their car, asked about the bike and my trip, and invited me to their home for breakfast the next morning. Turns out Gerardo and Vanesa are both doctors whose practices are in Durango. They work in the city during the week, then drive the hour and a half to Suchil to spend the weekend in their ranch-style dream home.
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Breakfast was fantastic, and we spent nearly three hours chatting about everything imaginable.
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A tiny glimpse of their home, which is spotless, new, and hidden from the street inside a beautiful courtyard. Gerardo is a passionate collector of all things antique, including vintage cars, historical weapons, radios, furniture, railroad parts, horse tack, and of course the usual tchotchkes and knick-knacks.
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The Transglobalist
Photographer, cyclist, paraglider pilot, backpacker, skydiver, writer, explorer, musician, hitchhiker, digital nomad, and American dissident.

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El Camino a Zacatecas (1)

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