a picture worth a thousand words . . .

then some maybe. I must see fifty road side memorials a day but this one stopped me.

In the Tropics!

I rode out of Ciudad Victoria round eleven o'clock in the morning and started with a climb out of the city then quickly out into ranch land. The weather is dry, hot and that damn head wind is back in full force . . . i vaguely recall something about prevailing winds out of the south but what are you gonna do 'bout that? I crossed the tropic of cancer and took a self photo at the big graffiti covered ball, wished i had my big permanent marker. I am traveling now! One imaginary line down, two more to go! I crossed the road to sit in the shade and have a celebratory beer and coke. I can picture the globe on its stand in the study at the farm, where i grew up. I spent a lot of time as a child crossing these lines in my imagination. Finally, i have my first decent climb in over a thousand miles but more exciting than the climb is the descent! I suppose flat is easier but i have been down in my drops pedaling non-stop for a long time and the wind is worse than any climb because you lack the anticipation of the other side. I am elated to top out with some fantastic views and a ripping 6km descent through tight s turns that bring me up to the speed of traffic. By late afternoon i start climbing through narrow lush valleys on winding mountain roads. Big ranches are replaced by small farms, cacti and thorny scrub brush are replaced by banana trees and citrus groves. Large trees overhang the road from steep hillsides providing welcome shade and no wind. As dusk approaches i duck into another citrus grove to sling my hammock, pop a caugama (1.2 liter beer) and cook dinner - a tasty soup of potatoes, onions, carrots, with two eggs whisked in, and rice.

Hey Matt! Are you riding your bikes?

this moment seems like a long cold way off. i love my bike. be over 5000km tomorrow just rolling along through the tropics. yesterday, slapped on the mountain bike tires for mountain fun. say hi to nips for me . . . when you get the chance.

The friendliest RV park in Mexico

Ciudad Victoria is a small city of 300,000 nestled up against the mountains - the setting reminds me of Boulder, CO but the mountains are bigger and it is a latin city. A population of 300,000 sounds pretty big but the city is compact and easy to get around with a bike. Traffic is slower because streets are narrow, potholed and topes are everywhere. A tope is a speed bump and they take their speed bumps serious in Mexico. A car better slow down (ie. stop and crawl) otherwise you are going to do serious damage to your vehicle - but a bike is no problem. I am gettin' my traffic on and it is fun! Ciudad Victoria has no tourism to speak of and feels very mellow. The above photo is the central plaza of the city and it was mostly couples kissing and older folks feeding pidgeons while business people strolled through.
I am camping at the Ciudad Victoria RV Park billed as "the friendliest RV park in Mexico," and i believe it. (victoriarvp@yahoo.com) Rosie is positively charming and funny as hell. She married a man from Wisconsin and they started an RV park 40 years ago on what was ranch land. Now, it is an oasis in the middle of the city with wonderful shaded sites, hot water, and walking distance to everything you need. However, all of the press about border violence has brought US RV traffic to a trickle. Most people i meet are hardy Canadians (all return customers) and all lament how "scared" Americans are - makes me sad that is our new reputation - and everyone apologizes to me for mentioning it. Mexico has been wonderful to me apart from the head wind, which is not their fault. I even went to the infamous Mexican Police to deal with some visa issues and guess what? They were great! I did sit in a small concrete room for an hour with a bunch of other folks looking resigned but after about a hundred rubber stamps everything was fine - they do love their stamps (actually it was about 8-10 stamps, four by one person). All the cops from the federal level on down have been very friendly . . . but it only takes one real prick to ruin your day. . . Tomorrow i head out for Gomez Ferias on the edge of the El Ciolo Biosphere Reserve and will spend at least Sunday there - i discovered and am told people get an early start drinking on Sundays and it is best not to travel.
http://www.letsgo.com/14475-mexico-travel-guides-northeast_mexico-northeast_mexico-tamaulipas-reserva_de_la_biosfera_el_cielo-c

Tamaulipas

I felt like I was pedaling through a spaghetti western. The landscape is similar to south Texas but the palms trees are larger, it is more agricultural, and seems somehow emptier. Maybe it is just the unrelenting headwind that i grind through for the entire day only to achieve 40 miles. My only respite is a buffeting side wind that knocks me around the road to be momentarily broken by doubled tractor trailers. I stay in a couple cheap hotels simply to escape the wind and sun. I hear relentless wind can drive a person insane. I finished my days speechless and spent like a husk - you could use me to wrap tamales. The few towns i pass through are dry dusty affairs though some are busy supplying feed and seed to the surrounding ranches.Eventually crop land gives way to beef cattle, by day four in Mexico i see mountains in the distance and climb my first hills in nearly 2000 miles though with the wind i am lucky to go 15 mph downhill, and that is working, if i coasted i would stop and fall over. The end of day four i roll into Nuevo Padilla surrounded by orange groves that provide a welcome break from the wind. I buy water and and a 1.2 liter "Los Indios" cervesa all the while answering questions about my trip to a small gathering. I am pleased to notice that my functional spanish is returning and i have no problem being understood. I stop by an orange stand - they are all orange stands in this town - and am given two grapefruits after chatting. I wander out some farm roads into the orange groves and find a perfect spot to sling my hammock in the corner of some fields beneath an orange tree and large cactus. After preparing dinner i read briefly and i am rocked into blissful sleep by the wind on my hammock. I wake round six in the morning a couple men pass me walking out to the fields along the irrigation ditch with their machetes. We exchange buenas and go about our respective business. After coffee i wander back to town to return my beer bottle, drink more coffee and chat with the ladies selling soft tacos while the morning fog lifts - they appreciate my healthy appetite. People are very friendly and i can safely lean my bike up without fear of it being stolen - besides who can pedal the beast! After a short day of 45km i arrive in Ciudad Victoria and see mountains rising nearly 2000 feet out of the city.

Warmshowers in McAllen TX

www.warmshowers.org is a hospitality site for touring cyclists similar to couchsurfing.org. Staying in a campground by myself, except for the pigs & coyotes, was getting old, and staying in affordable motels surrounded by 55+ communities wasn't lightin' my fire either so i figured this hospitality thing might offer a welcome change of pace. So, i joined and found a place to stay with Curt and Frank in McAllen and could not have been more pleased. Both guys bike, run, and are well traveled. Frank is a real maniac when it comes to traveling for marathons - he ran a marathons in Antarctica, Japan, the original route in Greece, Europe, is going to Tunisia in the spring. I was able to cook in a kitchen! and introduced Frank and Curt to making sushi and drinking sake - then i think we opened a bottle of pisco . . . good time. The convenience of a house to plan, pack, and ship to was very welcome. Curt and Frank turned me onto their local bike shop, Wally's, to pick up some spokes and offered me insight into living in the "valley." The area seems to be developing a nice little bike scene. Wally projected the stages of the Tour de France onto the side of the building at nightfall byob & lawn chairs. I could see the appeal of living there. www.wallysbikeshop.com Curt's experience in the planning department means he gives great directions and i had the place wired quick. Also, i got a really nice nice dog fix riling Tula, the lab, and Bella, the german shepard, and the cats were amusing. Thanks again and i hope i can return the favor in upstate NY - wine touring on a bike!

Mexico

I spent the morning making phone calls, paying bills, mailing the cell phone, and packing up. i have a few things to think about but the temptation is strong to say fuck it b/c most of it doesn't matter. After packing, and eating some miso soup with rice and a boiled egg i get going - kinda late pero no importa. Curt and Franks house is only 8 miles from the Pharr crossing and i change some dollars into pesos along the way. At the bridge i am directed onto a sidewalk that is a narrow slot of gargbage and broken glass. Then their is a barrier that says no walking across . . . so i carry my bike around and over. The sidewalk gets really messy standing water, deep mud, more garbage and lots more glass that makes riding difficult and crashes me into the concrete barrier a couple times. I am amazed that i didn't flat. Then Mexico! of course the automatic
gates do not respond so i carry my bike over another concrete barrier and around the gate - this time i have an audience and we all laugh at the mild absurdity of the situation. I just pass thru . . . no one stops me for identification, i am in Mexico, and have not showed my identification yet.
I immediately notice the roads are a lot more exciting - pot holes and curb drop offs that would stop a car . . . never mind a bike. Pretty quickly i get onto a local highway heading south that is narrow but cars are friendly and give plenty of room. A passing truck loses a half dozen metal saw horses that go skittering all over the road but i am far enough back by 5 seconds that it is not a real concern. The landscape is wide open ranchland with sparse traffic. I see a dead horse, hit by a truck, frozen in mid effort to stand with one leg cocked to lever itself up. Along the border the military presence of the federales is everywhere. Fifty kilometers in i decline a turn because of federales blocking the road, no smiles, and lots of machine guns, including two about my size mounted on jeeps. I may have been able to weave thru the 8 stopped vehicles and federal jeeps scattered across the road but does not seem prudent. By 4 in the afternoon drunk drivers become noticeable on the road - i'll have to keep that in mind. I settle in for the night in Valle Hermoso after a roasted chicken ready to get up and head south into Mexico.

Tomorrow morning i am turning off my phone and riding into Mexico. After 10 days within 5 miles of the border i am feeling pretty comfortable, been a nice acclimitization of sorts. My stay for the past 3 days with Curt and Frank has been nothing but pleasant and i will be using http://www.warmshowers.org/ in the future. But more on that later. My FedEx package arrived today from the binghamton santas and we are ready to rock and roll. Time to ride. The reduced activity is encouraging my night owl tendencies, so it will not be a crack of dawn start. I decided to cross at Pharr because it will put me outside downtown Reynosa onto mexican route 2 until i turn south on tamaulipas route 3 at Rio Bravo. The landscape is going to be ranchland and the people are friendly so i will camp somewhere along the way. I am going to Ciudad Victoria in a slow diagonal southwest that will take me through San Luis Potosi, Guanajuato, Morelia, and . . .

The Road Ahead

Well, i think i am buggered in the shipping department - it would appear that my package of bike goodies has been lost in transit by the USPS, a first for me. The most important item was probably tires because it is difficult to find 700c touring tires or 29er mtb tires in latin america - economies of scale that sort of thing, besides being a luxury item. I called all the bike shops in the yellow pages, which still beats the crap out of the internet for searching businesses, and nada nothing zip f' all in the tire department in the Rio Grande Valley - but hell only 1.1 million people live here. . . Anyhow, the idea is to have some mtb tires that are in stock in Binghamton sent to a local address via UPS or FedEx. I joined www.warmshowers.org, a hospitality site for touring cyclists, and sent out some emails to area folks in the hope of getting a shipping address. Let me say once again Chenango Point Cycles rocks! we really have no idea how good we have it until we do not. I know i could walk in there and find everything i need on the shelf.
I am looking forward to some expansive landscapes going into Mexico. If you happen to read things like the US State Dept. travel advisories, then you could get really concerned about crossing into mexico - http://travel.state.gov/travel/cis_pa_tw/cis/cis_970.html.

But that is there job. I am not a drug dealer, or police officer, or military so there is no reason to target me. And i feel sorry for the poor bastard that wants to empty my bank account because i beat him to it!
Realistically, if you look at crime statistics the United States is a pretty dangerous place - we beat Mexico in assaults, burlaries, car theft, and we are about tied in firearm related homocides. But nobody mentions Columbia, Guatemala or Paraguay, which are a much better places to get shot statistically. I could drop a Mexican in any number of U.S. neighborhoods and wish them the best of luck. Yes, there is a drug war in Mexico but it occurs in locations strategic to that war - mainly the borders. So my plan is to cross early in the morning at a quiet crossing and by noon time i will be 50 miles away - most criminals i have known are not morning people.
A note on statistics, i like to use www.nationmaster.com because it is transparent in its sourcing and allows comments. Stats are not truth just a snapshot from a position, you really do need a lot of statistics to develop a picture, and then it is only statistical.
More significant than any statistic - people bicycle touring say they feel safer riding in Mexico and touring, in general, is easier in Mexico. I have been to dangerous places heard bombs and gunfire, and just like anywhere else, don't be an idiot, smile, and keep your eyes open . Don't forget hundreds of millions of people go about their daily lives and nothing ever happens to them - often to their disappointment.
As to my actual route thru Mexico well . . . vamos a ver.

Any self respecting youtube surfing bike junkie has seen this scottish dude but how can you get bored with such brilliance!



Now, a little world class binghamton dirt jumping brought to you by the lovely boys at FBM - nice to see a bunch of friendly faces - i'm in there somewhere drinkin' a pbr with everybody else.

on the border still . . .

. . . still waiting for a package of tires and bike parts that i won't be able to get easily outside the US (hell, not easy to get here) . . . but something is wrong because they should be here. I left the safari outfits, oversize binoculars, and monster telephoto lenses of Bentsen Rio State Park behind. The pigs were having fun f'ing around but i was getting pretty damn bored and at 23 bucks a day the camping was a ripoff considering the facilities. There was hot water but no pressure which forced you to crouch down and hug the tile wall in an unheated bathroom when night time temps were in the 20's. I had a rippin' fire every night and ate huge hunks of roast meat but then coyotes started visiting every night, and wild dogs in your campsite are never good. The pigs were pretty cute especially with piglet in tow but they are really blind which makes it sort of difficult to chase them off. They would wander by ten feet away and when i stood to wave them off they seemed confused - often walking towards me like i was a giant bird feed dispenser. Initially, having the park to myself every night was pretty cool, just me and the homeland security helicopter every hour, then i had to leave before someone asked me to pay for the other 3 days i'd been there.



Now, i am in a hotel by the post office so i can take care of business and get some writing done. I am surrounded by tens of thousands of winter texans living in rv's adjacent to golf courses. I find it telling that you see more "adult day care" than child care. My first shit hole hotel, after the state park, was next to the Excalibur Bar and Grill. The Excalibur is a square windowless box of a building with a back parking lot that makes you think, "hmmm, strip club," but it was not. I noticed a lot of trucks parked in the lot and decided to check it out. The place was packed to the gills with winter texans sitting at long tables, eating tex mex, drinking cheap beer (and cheaper wine), and dancing to Johnny Cash covers. I was the youngest guy by more than a decade. However, i ran into Garth, a young canadian soul and "fellow adventurer," of earlier acquaintance. Garth regaled me with stories over beers and food, until, he caught the eye of a silver haired vixen that whisked him away to the dance floor.

On the Border

I left Corpus and made my way across the southeastern plains of Texas towards Bentsen Rio State Park outside of McAllen, Texas. I passed through Kingsville, home of the King Ranch, which is bigger than the state of Rhode Island (isn't everything though?). The country is big and flat - covered with low scrub brush and cacti if it is not cleared. I imagine coming through this country in the summer time with temperatures well over 100 degrees desperately trying to


avoid the ubiquitous border patrol in their white and green striped vehicles. A border patrol officer checked me out while i was stopped to eat. He asked if i had enough water. He was part of a hydration unit, and when he learned what i was doing, he gave me a supply of electrolyte packets that will last years. Everyone i meet is kind and supportive from truckers that beep and wave to store owners not charging me for items. While passing through Mission, close to the park, i stopped by a local bike shop, Bike Masters, for a new hat optimistically thinking i won't be needing the black wool cap for long . . . it is cold and raining as i write this. The owner of the bike shop came out as i was leaving and gave me pair of socks and asked if i spoke spanish. Si, he gave me his business card and a card for a bike shop in Monterrey, Mexico that a relative owns - nice to have!

I am writing this from the cafe at the World Birding Center in the Bentsen Rio State Park. During the day i see lots of older folks in safari outfits with binoculars but at night i am the only person camping in the entire park - as long as the local pigs (technically javalinas - still pork to me) stay out of my stuff - but they seem happy with bird seed.

Corpus Christi

I pedaled out of West Columbia on my way towards Corpus Christi taking a combination of farm roads (Texas road designation) and state highways. Until temperatures dropped into the low 40's and driving rain forced my head down - 80 miles later i checked into a hotel to dry off and thaw out. Eric Idle writes some catchy tunes that are good for putting brief misery in perspective.
I arrived in Corpus Christi on December 31st coming over the Harbor Bridge . . . check out the sidewalk!
Self and bike barely fit on the sidewalk as i bounced and scraped my way across the bridge while trucks boomed past two feet away - but it was a great harbor view. I rode along Ocean Drive looking for the Herring's address. Laurel Herring is the sister of Sissy, who works with my mom in a real estate office in Warner, NH. Laurel and her husband, Ken, were most gracious hosts and i stayed at their house for three nights. The chance to do laundry and write and eat and eat is always welcome. The entire family was simply wonderful to visit with but the first order of business was replacing a snapped spoke at a local bike shop. Ken and I went to the House of Rock for new years, owned by their son Casey, and had a few beers before returning to the house well before midnight to crawl into the most comfortable bed. I felt truly welcome and enjoyed meeting the family.
If you are in Corpus Christi check out The House of Rock - a great venue with a fine beer selection - http://www.myspace.com/texashouseofrock
And if you need some ink check out Pinnacle Tattoo - http://www.pinnacletattoo.net/ - Chris does some amazing work that has me thinking it is time for another tattoo. He had just returned from a book buying spree in Jinbocho, Tokyo's famous book district.
The youngest son i did not meet because he was on the road - http://www.myspace.com/jasonbolandthestragglers

Great Date!

Now if i really wanted to impress my woman on Valentines Day this would be my first choice. but i would really have to be in love. and now a little bit of surreality to russian music. because "russian music" and midgets somehow belong together.

TEXAS pt 2

Setting up the tent and making dinner has become pretty routine for me but i think most folks have never really camped in a tent and just don't quite fathom it.

I saw the young man's truck pull up behind the trailer next to me, he was getting home from work and i noticed the kids' bikes parked on the side. Three quarters of the trailers in the park appeared to be long term residents. While I set up my tent he came in and out of the trailer to his truck several times and eventually we introduced ourselves. He said that he had never seen a tent set up in the park before and asked if i was going to be warm enough. I told him my story and he remarked that he was doing something similar.
Now, my interest is piqued, it is more engaging and personal when people see themselves in your own endeavor. He was going to receive training to be a Pentecostal missionary and go out into the world to evangelize. I asked if he had any choice where he might go? He replied that he was thinking of going to Maine. . . cold, i said, go to Peru. They sold their house and for $5000 he bought a used trailer and they moved into the county rv park. The rent at the park was $395 a month and that included water, electricity, and garbage/waste water disposal - not a bad deal other than being a family of five in a trailer.
I knew it had to be stressful, because of his willingness to unload to a stranger - people tell you the damnedest things if they will never see you again. His family rode him pretty hard over the holidays, but he said the family two down from him had five children . . . However, he wished they had not let 'them take the other car back' because his wife and children were now stuck in the park. They home schooled so we talked education and i inquired about outside activities for the children - again no car. The cold weather was hard because of the children staying in and the cost of propane to heat the trailer. I told him to buy an electric radiator, assured him that it would not burn his four year old, and electricity is part of rent. They were supposed to get missionary training in January but they were saving money so the plan was now August 2010. I was pretty hungry and begged off to make dinner, as he went into the trailer he made a point of offering their couch if i got cold - it folded out into a bed.

TEXAS

I left Galveston at noon time, after packing and closing hurricane shutters, and pedaled into a solid head wind along the coast before turning inland. After 1000 miles of coast line, moving inland was a nice change and trees provided a welcome wind break. At times, the grass land spread beneath a green cathedral ceiling of evenly spaced live oaks. The towns are small and people are curious and genuinely excited about my trip. By the end of the day i had shook hands, hugged, been blessed, and posed for photos. I am starting to get used to the instant celebrity but it feels odd because to me i am just doing my own thing. Everyone asks, "what's my cause"?

I cruised into West Columbia in the late afternoon asking around about camping before deciding on a county campground nestled into the live oaks next to the Werner-Hogg plantation. I arrived at dusk, and opened a beer to enjoy the sunset before checking in with the campground host. The charming couple next door (that brought me fresh coffee the next morning) directed me towards the end of the small campground. I walk up and see the prominently displayed, "Obama, show us the birth certificate," on the rv windshield. Wow! a birther - they are not common in New York and i am a little excited as i mount the porch to knock. A thin man comes to the door, an almost frail man that is far from birth, and i inquire about registering, and he asks about my vehicle, and i say bicycle. He replies, "bicycle?!, on a bicycle? serious"? And i tell him that i rode 2140 miles to stand right here before him. Anyhow, tents are not allowed . . . so i offer to not set up the tent. . . still not allowed. He is a little confounded, as am i, over the absurd nature of the rules as they applied to our situation that cool Texas evening. He asked, "only one night? . . . you really rode here on a bicycle?," i replied yes and stayed for free.

Happy New Year from Corpus Christi