Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

Libras – Puebla, Mexico

It’s impossible to reach any real conclusions about Mexico. Yesterday’s thought – that there aren’t many rules and no one enforces what rules there are – lasted about half a day. 

That’s right. Yesterday we talked about the sign indicating that bikes are not allowed on the toll road. Maybe there’s a vague rule to that effect – as evidenced by the one sign we saw – but no one enforces the rules anyway.

Wrong. 

Let’s skip back to this morning. You can’t just start a story in the middle, now can you?

First off, it’s 47 degrees when we wake up. What? Where are we? Did we take a wrong turn and wind up back in Minnesota? We haven’t experienced anything that cold since . . . well, since last Spring. And the way the winter went in Minnesota last year we barely experienced 40s even then . . .

Along with the cold came a dense fog. 

Sorry to interrupt, but can I just say that we really have our breakfasts dialed in now. Each evening we head to the grocery store. Diana picks out some yogurt and some type of cereal – preferably some kind of granola, but sometimes you take what you can get. Last night that meant puffed rice. (I forgot how much I like that stuff . . . Really just a vehicle for milk and sugar . . . Mmm.)  And then we buy a liter of milk. They do occasionally sell normal refrigerated milk (leche), but we generally buy the super-pasteurized non-refrigerated stuff – enterra (whole milk). 

But the real key is a little coffee or tea. The place we stayed at this morning had one of those mini-coffee-makers in the room, complete with coffee and sugar. Pretty snazzy for a place that charges $26 for a night. Make Diana her coffee, then make some hot water in the coffee maker for my tea. There’s just something great about starting the day with a little hot caffeinated beverage . . . Especially when it’s below 50 . . .

When we sent the camping stuff back I did keep the cook stuff. Which has come in handy. Hard to eat cereal without a bowl and a spoon. And the Mexican airbnbs seem to be lacking in pots – so we have had to use our own a few times now. But the new plan going forward is to break out the cook stove in the mornings when there is no in-house coffee pot . . .

The dense fog does not go away while we eat breakfast . . . First day we have worn our warm clothes – rain coat, buff, head band and gloves for me – maybe on the whole trip. In fact, just yesterday I started to think about ditching the head band and buff. But they proved their worth today . . .

So we ride into and then up and out of the fog. Pretty soon we’re actually looking down on the clouds trapped in the valleys. Beautiful. 

We are working though. Steady climbing for the first hour or two of the day. And once again we’re on the local toll road. As we climb there are a series of big semis puffing along next to us. They pass us – but just barely. 

These semis aren’t exactly nimble. They’re not eighteen wheelers. Many of them are, I think, 34 wheelers (I’ve tried counting as they pass us a few times now – fun math problem . . .). Double semis – with double wheels. 

And Mexicans do not seem to worry about overloading stuff. I think the general rule is that if you can fit some more on you do. Which leads to slow going on these long ascents or, worse, 34 wheelers parked half way up with their hoods open and their owners trying to squeeze some more juice out of them. 

Anyway, we huff and puff our way to the top of this pass, going around a few dead semis. We stop to take a few pictures and then we head through this cool tunnel. I think our first tunnel of the trip. 

All good. We emerge on the other side to spectacular views of yet another big high planes valley (Diana’s Wahoo thing says we were at around 8,300’ at this point). We’re heading down the hill when some type of tollway operations type vehicle puts its lights on and stops in front of us – blocking the shoulder. We stop and a very nice man tells us that we shouldn’t be on the toll road. We need to get off at the next exit. He explains that the toll road is too dangerous because the cars sometimes need the shoulders to drive on – or something like that. He’s speaking in Spanish and we’re trading some Google Translate messaging – but the details are left to the imagination . . .

We do get off at the next exit – we were already planning to get off there anyway. But here’s the thing. The toll roads might be dangerous in the sense that a car could theoretically hit you. But that’s true of all the roads in the world. Hardly unique to Mexican toll roads. And the reality is that these toll roads have huge shoulders. Not only that – the pavement is smooth – like a baby’s bottom. 

The other roads that we ride on in Mexico? Generally no shoulder. Frequently horrible pavement. Potholes, cracks, random sections of rock and dirt. So in an absolute sense he’s right: the toll roads are dangerous. But, relative to our options: no way. Toll roads are much safer.

Maybe he means that we should take the first exit and then rent a car? I don’t know. But I think it’s safe to say that there will be more Mexican toll roads in our future. I know my Mom – who is definitely by the book – wouldn’t like it. But she’s not with us – and maybe she won’t read today’s post . . .

But the real disappointment in all of this? I can’t even get one pronouncement about Mexico right. In fact, my theorems don’t even last 24 hours before they’re disproved. I mean we thought the earth was flat for like 37 eons before Copernicus. I don’t even get one day for my postulates . . . 

In math (I might have mentioned before that I was a math major in college) if you come up with a theorem or something they name it after you. Like Euclidean Geometry (Euclid was a Greek guy and he pretty much figured out triangles and right angles and stuff like that.) He was pretty smart. Anyway, I was thinking that maybe if I came up with something good they could call it Munger’s Theorem on Mexican Rules – or something to that effect . . . 

I would, of course, refuse the honor.

”It should really go to someone else. Maybe Diana? She was there too. Oh, okay, if you insist. Maybe use all caps for the name and you could just shorten it: MUNGER’S Theorem.”

The rest of the day? It was okay, but we had some headwind and some slow climbing, and my back hurt – I guess from all the Tour de France climbs the last few days. 

Puebla? We didn’t see a ton of it yet because we went to a bike shop – Bike Rides Are Fun – or something like that. We bought new tires but we were there for a while. Great guys – but they did not seem in any hurry to get us out of there. The manager – Edwin – helped me try to fit my bike properly. I’m hopeful that will help with the back. We’ll see. But either way – super helpful and super great service. 

Turns out that Edwin’s dad was like the first Mexican professional rider. He moved to California to pursue biking and rode in the Coors Classic and the Los Angelas Olympics. I think he rode with Davis Phinney. Pretty cool!

It was dark by the time we left the shop, but from what we can tell Puebla seems like a pretty amazing place. Actual real tourists. We even heard our first native English speakers since we’ve been in Mexico. I think they were British or something – but still . . . 

On toward Ciudad de Mexico tomorrow. My sense is that our two-day ride to get there is going to be entirely city riding. It’s a big place – seventh largest city in the world. So we’ll see . . .

P.s. – We both started the day with a few extra trips to the baño. Could have been something we ate, or might have been just election nerves. Let’s hope for the best…