Pico de Oro not so golden . . .

Getting to Cd. Carmen was straight forward fast riding with a head wind that kept me at 20kph. I camped the night before in the yard of a vacation house under renovation. Construction workers were staying at the house. I met one of them earlier in passing as i pushed through soft sand past the iron fence being scraped. He was from Villahermosa and in Pico de Oro to work on the patrons house. His was the second warnings not to camp here alone.
A group of young men were dismantling palapas for fire wood on the beach with machetes. They told me the road went no farther . . . there was laughter and chatter. I hate being intimidated . . . i walked up to clarify about the road. You can tell when people are not your friends, when you are being sized up. That was a warning.
I turned into a beach side development that had been destroyed by economic conditions, weather, and theft. People i spoke with were prone to focus on the theft part - politics are the same everywhere. Personal injury is something people feel they can control whereas, weather and economic conditions . . . not so much. Most everyone i spoke with was not from there. Initially, i thought any number of the abandoned porches would be fine. But people kept saying that i must be careful. Hay gente malo aqui. They stole all the copper and fixtures out of the buildings during the night. . . my bike is steel and my money only paper? . . . but i was swayed. I pushed my way back out the soft sand road, passing the same house under renovation, i heard men chatting and relaxing at the back and pushed my way in. Funny that it reminded me of teaching - the pushing part.
No doubt they thought me odd . . . i am riding a bicycle across two continents but all was friendly. I woke early from my hammock and they woke early to work. I was pedaling by 7 30 in the morning and covered 150km that day. I was looking forward to a respite from pedaling and getting some freshness back in my legs.