Mexico in Full Force 

Sabinas Hidalgo – Monterrey, Nuevo Laredo, Mexico

Well, now we have left the U.S. and the border behind for real . . .

We ended up packing several days worth of life into our one ride today.

We started out from Sabinas, agreeing that we didn’t need to worry too much about food because there are so many vendors everywhere. Which meant, of course, that there ended up being no services at all for the first 35 miles. 

As it turned out, that did not end up being a huge crisis. The last 15 or so of those serviceless miles were easy downhill. Reality is that I can be hungry and still manage to keep the bike moving when we’re descending. Diana? Of course she doesn’t need food anyway – so no skin off her back either way . . .

But I’m skipping the important part. Beautiful biking. That 15 miles of descent were paid for with 20 miles of ascent to start the day. Which meant we had some really nice vistas. And after six weeks of biking we’re both pretty strong at this point – so the ride up was mostly pleasant . . .

Okay, enough of that. Let’s get to the interesting part of the day. 

First stop: El Cabinito (The Little Cabin). 

This was the first service of any kind since Sabinas. So, of course we immediately stopped. As we pull in a legion of badass-looking military guys drive by. We don’t think much of it – we’ve seen these patrols multiple times now since arriving in Mexico.

At the Cabinito we are greeted by a big beautiful rooster, who is, I guess, acting as the official concierge.

Once inside we meet Lulu – the proprietor and cook. I tell her I want “algo bueno” – which in John’s lexicon of Spanish means “something good.” Diana, of course, wants to have a full-on discussion of what exactly they have, what the ingredients are, how it’s cooked, etc. Which is why it’s good that Diana knows a lot more Spanish than I do. 

Unfortunately, she doesn’t know quite enough yet to glean the information that she really wants from someone like Lulu, who knows no English. (Truth be told, Diana has enough questions that even people who are fluent in English have a difficult time understanding all of her food-based queries). Diana and Lulu went back and forth for a while and, eventually, Lulu invites us back into the kitchen – where she shows us a big pan of some type of concoction with little chunks of meat. Good enough for me. 

“Si, si, dos tacos,” I say, and walk over to the table to wait patiently for my lunch. 

Not sure about the remainder of Diana’s conversation, but she ended up with three of the same type of tacos.

I don’t know exactly what I was eating – maybe pork belly of some kind? – but it was pretty good. I’m happy.

Diana – not so much. She ate about two bites before pushing her plate to me. 

Eventually, Lulu’s son, Jorge, introduced himself. He spoke English well. 

“You need to be careful on this road.” 

He went on to explain that the cars were fine, but there are “narcos.” 

We’re listening . . .

Turns out that the Narcos and the police have basically been at war recently – and he said that the road that we’ve been traveling on the last few days – from Nuevo Laredo to Sabinas (where we were the last two nights) to the Little Cabin – is not safe. 

“From here to Monterrey is fine though.”

Since we’re now officially done with Nuevo Laredo and Sabinas we at least feel good that the road going forward is okay. 

Jorge shows us some pictures of cars on fire and bad things happening and tells us that these photos were taken just a few days ago. 

Mexico is a crazy place. Jorge tells us that they have to buy peace themselves by paying both the “narcos” and the police. This is on top of regular taxes and expenses – meaning that they are never able to get ahead. So sad.

As we are paying the bill Jorge pulls out a bottle of coconut Tequila and says something about this being complimentary . . .

It was good. 

We head down the road . . . 

All good. Except that after a while the road we’re on starts to become alarmingly busy – divided, and with on and off ramps. Not a full-blown highway – but not exactly paradise for riding. 

I call a halt, and we switch to the bike directions – which sends us through an adjacent neighborhood. 

Two developments here . . . First, Diana now has a tummy ache from her two bites of Lulu’s lunch. And second, this is REAL Mexico. It’s Sunday afternoon so families are out in full force. They are looking happy, the kids are playing ball or riding bikes around, but the homes are tiny. Looks like around 400 square feet each – with whole families sharing these small spaces that are basically on top of each other . . .

The neighborhood is a maze and eventually Google Maps just kind of peters out. Roads that are supposed to be there do not exist. Probably the Google mapping car got scared and just made stuff up . . . I don’t know – but with Diana having tummy issues I know we are not going to bike around trying to find our way through. When Diana’s not feeling well she doesn’t care about traffic – she just wants the fastest route . . .

So it’s back to the main (busy, highway-ish) road . . .

It’s fine. I mean, it’s not great. Lots of traffic, but there’s a shoulder and it’s doable . . .

Until I realize that we’re now on one of those big looping ramps that is going to combine with the anything-goes expressway that I can see from the ramp. Sadly, there is no going back (when the book version of the blog comes out I think that term’s going to end up as the title – it just keeps coming up . . .). There are just too many cars coming . . .

So now we’re on this super-scary road – with eighteen wheelers barreling along at breakneck speed. Fortunately, Mexican highways are not like the highways in America – where there is no way off once you’re on. We pull over into some type of super-grungy business yard and have a conference. We eventually determine that the only way out of this mess is to continue on for a few miles. 

The good news is that just as we are heading back onto the highway an eighteen-wheeler comes by at about ten miles per hour – spewing black smog and clearly on its last legs. At this point we aren’t worried about the smoke that will kill us tomorrow – we’re much more concerned with the 80 mph truck that will kill us today. So we hitch a ride behind it – pretty “safe” there since the broken down semi is running interference for us. 

Eventually it pulls off, but we’re making progress – and we now have a shoulder. Good, right? Well, that assumes that the shoulder is itself safe. This one? Several huge holes in the pavement. I mean – like 8’ deep or something (I didn’t exactly check). And like 4’ x 6’ wide. You bike into one of those and you are done. So done. I signal wildly for Diana not to go there (that’s one of my responsibilities as the person generally in front – to signal when there are potholes or other obstructions) – and she doesn’t. But this whole scene is just bad . . .

Finally we escape from this Alcatraz of a highway – only to find ourselves on a dirt road that is filled with big holes and mud and dirt and rocks. Diana hates this type of road – especially when she’s not feeling good. 

After a while the “road” heads up onto an overpass type thing. As we get to the top we see that there is a car heading toward us. It slows down and basically parks in front of us. After Jorge’s warnings about narcos and unsafe roads we’re wondering what this is going to be about. 

Then I see a nebbishy man of about my age rolling down the window – and smiling. He doesn’t know English and I don’t know much Spanish – but we manage to introduce ourselves – Chava and his son, Diego. With Diana’s help, somehow we glean that Chava’s brother lives someplace near Fargo and Diego is a mountain bike racer. 

Chava is inviting us to his house, which is, he indicates, close by. But Diana is still not feeling well and really doesn’t want anything except to get to a hotel at this point . . . We exchange info – I’m now Facebook friends with Diego – and as we head out a giant military helicopter and three big military vehicles hum by just below the overpass-thing . . . 

After another mile or two of Chequamegon-like riding we emerge into a bustling commercial district – with stuff happening everywhere. People are selling clothes and hats and furniture and food, and, really, just about anything you can think of. Thoroughly enjoyable biking. Just so fun to check it all out . . .

As we’re negotiating our way down the busy streets I’m hailed by a car to my left – where the driver is pushing a cold bottle of water – aqua fría, don’t you know – into my hands. I stop, and a long back-and-forth begins. The family in the car knows no English – but they clearly LOVE that we are biking and that we are in their country. Before I know it they have given me a second bottle of water – this one for Diana, who is waiting up the road a bit . . .

Eventually he pulls the car over and Mom and Dad get out, while the three boys – who were super well behaved – stay in the back seat – peering out curiously. Diana is now pulled into the “conversation” – which is good, because I thought she was going to get mad at me because she wanted to get to the hotel – which is still a ways away . . .

Mom and Dad are Juan and Monse (pronounced Mon-Say). Given the language barriers, we’re doing anything we can to carry on a conversation. Juan shows me an empty Tecate (beer) can and says: “Tecate and Modelo.” 

“Dos Equis” I say – proud of myself that I thought of another Mexican beer . . .

Juan’s next attempt at dialogue . . . He points to Monse’s cleavage and say something about how Mexican women have more – I guess with the implication that Diana doesn’t have much. Diana takes no offense and agrees that she is not as well endowed in that department. 

And then we’re taking pictures and Juan is trying to ascertain where Diana is from. 

He doesn’t mean New York. 

Eventually he pulls at his eyelids in the universal politically incorrect language for “Chinese.”

Again taking no offense, Diana agrees: “Yes, I’m Chinese. But I’m from Nuevo York Ciudad.” 

They don’t care about the New York part. They clearly don’t see too many Asians down here . . . I’m taking a picture of Monse and Diana and Monse asks Diana to take her glasses off – to better see Diana’s Chinese eyes . . .

Finally, they pull out a pizza they must have just purchased and offer us some. Diana is still not feeling good, but I don’t want to be rude. So now I’m eating their pepperoni pizza while drinking their water . . .

So crazy. 

And they are so happy. 

We take some photos, exchange information as best we can, and we head off . . .

Lots more city riding before we make it to the hotel. Fun. So much to see . . . 

With the bikes all muddy from the dirt road I pull into a car wash and manage to convince the car washer guy to spray our bikes down. He does a great job. Never brought my bike through a car wash before . . .

Tonight? Our friend Gunnar’s friend Anna knows this guy Dan who is a big biker and lives in Monterrey. Diana has been corresponding with Dan through What’s App for a while now – with Dan advising on the best routes to bike from Nuevo Laredo to Monterrey. We have dinner with Dan and he gives us a ton of additional information about biking in Mexico. Great guy. Great dinner. 

You see – I told you that was a lot to pack into one day . . .