Double Barrelled Aneurysm . . . and other issues

Tehauntepec, Oaxaca – Santo Domingo Zanatepec, Oaxaca – Tonala, Chiapas, Mexico

Remarkably, we’ve had two relatively flat days in a row. I mean, you can still see the mountains looming – but we’ve been paralleling the coast and that seems to mean fewer hills. 

Though it’s not like there have been no challenges or causes for concern. After leaving the hotel yesterday morning we made it about ten minutes before the most wicked cross wind that I’ve ever biked in started up. We were working our way along a road that was almost like a causeway – just a little raised up from the dead flat wetland areas around us. No trees – just a big grassy/reedy expanse – a perfect place for gentle breezes to build up to hurricane force . . .

Brutal. 

About 45 minutes of complete battle. A few times I thought we were going to be thrown completely off the road. I found myself thinking that I would rather have the mountains. At least you know what you’re up against . . . And there’s a definite endpoint – the top, or the pass, or whatever . . . We stop and, in fact, we talk briefly about turning once again into the mountains – just to avoid the wind and the rain and the remnants of hurricane Sara.

Fortunately we eventually turn a little, there are more trees around to block the worst of it, and, miraculously, by the afternoon the wind was mostly at our back. 

Turns out wind is great when it’s with you . . .

The heat. My goodness – we’re back at sea level again and it’s hot. H – O – T – hot! 

Toward the end of our ride we go over a river and it’s a hot Saturday so there are Mexican families enjoying the water. We join them. Kind of a crazy scene. Families all over the place. The Mexican National Guard repeatedly filling up a water truck – that says “POTABLE WATER.” (I mean the water seemed nice – but potable?) Their National Guard friends with giant guns watching over the whole operation. And little cabanas built into the river banks where you can grab lunch or a snack. 

But I’m off course once again . . .

When we left off two days ago Little Ann (Diana’s bike) had started to act up again. Changing gears on its own and not going into the biggest chain ring in back. I did a barrel adjustment and that seemed to help. Felt pretty good about myself, really . . .

However, after I bragged about it in the last episode, Dave P – one of our more expert bike mechanic readers – left a comment saying that I should turn the barrel adjustment back to where it was because that was not the problem. 

But I didn’t see Dave’s comment until later . . . Doesn’t matter. Yesterday morning – after Diana had complained that the bike had started acting up again at the end of the day Friday – I did even more of a barrel adjustment – and it worked for the rest of yesterday and part of today. 

Reader honor system – who can identify the real source of the problem based on this information? (Obviously I couldn’t – but it became obvious later . . . Read on . . .)

Skip to today. 

Before we get to the biking issues – which are definitely coming – we encounter one of the more crazy Mexican scenes that we have seen in our 1,500+ mile journey across the country.

We’re biking along, about an hour into our ride, and I point out a giant semi that had been at our hotel last night. I recognize it because it’s loaded with some big rebar thing. The driver must have had a leisurely breakfast – but now he’s gone again – zooming down the road.

A mile or so later we see the semi yet again – stopped at the end of a line of cars and trucks that are all stopped dead on the road. And there are no cars or trucks coming the other direction. Zero.

Well, we’re on bikes so we start weaving through the stopped vehicles. And it’s a little crazy. This isn’t 10-15 vehicles. We literally weave through this linear parking lot for a few miles. People are out of their cars and trucks chatting. There are people with their luggage walking. I’m not sure where they’re going. But they’re walking. 

It’s quite the scene. 

We go by an Australian couple with the only RV we’ve seen in Mexico, and Diana hears them say that everyone is stopped because “the road is broken.” 

Whatever that means.

Mind you, the road up ahead might be broken – but we’re biking on the most perfect stretch of highway that we’ve been on in hundreds of miles. Looks like it was paved last week. Huge shoulder. Not a blemish in site.

We continue to weave through the standstill and there are a lot more people standing around now. Wait – now the cars and trucks are facing the other direction – and I realize that we somehow biked right past the “broken road” – or whatever the problem was.

I guess I thought that the source of such a big problem would be obvious. A gaping hole in the road. A semi jackknifed. A vehicle has started on fire. An earthquake. A massive accident . . .

We turn around to investigate. What did we miss? 

And I see that there is a line of old tires blocking the road. (There are old tires everywhere in Mexico – so I’m guessing that whoever put the tires across the road just grabbed whatever was handy.) There are no police or anyone else who looks official. (Which is strange – because there is no shortage of police in Mexico. Between the local police, the National Guard people, and the real bad asses with the masks, I bet some version of police officer is the most common job in the country . . . other than maybe taco stand worker . . .)

At first I think there must have been a bad accident and that’s the problem. But on closer inspection I don’t see anything resembling a crash. I mean, plenty of the vehicles don’t look new or anything – but doesn’t look like there was an accident. 

We actually still don’t know why everyone was stopped. But the remarkable thing . . . No one seemed the least bit upset about this HUGE delay. People are just standing around chatting and having a good time. In fact, when we stop to take a picture and video people are laughing and cheering us on. 

Definitely a different world . . . I can tell you that if Diana – or many of the other high-powered America women that I know – were in one of the cars – and were now late for their coffee date or their workout or whatever – there would be hell to pay. And people would not be standing around laughing anymore . . .

But, again, we’re on bikes and we just ride on through . . . 

No problem.

Now back to the bikes . . . A while later we’re cruising along and Diana asks why all the northbound cars and trucks seem to be driving in our – southbound – lane. I point out the multitude of potholes on the other side of the road. I guess the drivers would rather risk a head-on collision than drive through these crazy pits in the road . . .

A minute later we’re heading onto a bridge and I see that there is a pretty river we’re about to go over. Neither of us really wants to stop but I want to get a picture so I take out my phone in order to take a quick shot as we bike along. 

And then – “Oh no” – Just before impact I see a huge crack/pothole in the bridge. You know those expansion joints that they intentionally put in bridges? This one is HUGE. Like 6” across and I don’t know how deep . . . It might have started out as an expansion joint allowing the bridge components to avoid coming together – but in this case the expansion joint itself has expanded . . .

Clunk – my front tire; thud – my rear tire. 

I manage to hold onto the phone, and mutter an apology to Diana.

And then – clunk – thud – her bike goes through. 

Ugh.

Now we pull over because we’re already at a standstill. We take our picture. Nice. But worth it? I’ll let you be the judge after we tell the remainder of the story . . .

We climb back onto our bikes, but Diana announces that she has a flat. Drat. 

That expansion joint pothole!

We start out trying to save the tubeless nature of the tire. But to no avail. We put a tube in and we’re ready to go . . .

Starting out again I’m wondering if the road is as wavy as it feels like it is. Can’t quite figure it out – but something just doesn’t seem right with Old Dan. Whatever – we’ve pulled over a lot now and I know Diana will be a little impatient with another gratuitous stop – “because Old Dan feels kind of weird.”

Eventually though I see my chance. Mexico never goes long without something surprising to see or hear or do . . . Sure enough – there’s a dead pig lying by the side of the road. And on closer inspection there’s actually a dead pig, two dead piglets, and two much more dead creatures that are much more difficult to identify. 

I call a stop to take a picture. 

And now that we’re stopped I inspect Old Dan’s rear tire. The whole tire is bulged out in one spot – and with each rotation of the tire I get a little extra bounce. I guess that’s what I’ve been feeling. That darn expansion joint!

I tell Diana that it feels like an outer layer of the tire has delaminated from an inner layer – so theoretically the outer layer could pop and I would still have the inner layer to ride on for a while. 

“That’s like a double barrel aortic dissection,” she says. “Some  patients can develop a double barreled aortic aneurysm – especially if they are older male smokers.”

Okay. I don’t think Old Dan smokes, but he has been traveling through Mexico for a while now. And I will say that the Mexicans do not have quite the same regard for air quality as we do in the U.S. I guess one of those first-world problems . . . I can tell you that people are burning things around here all the time. In restaurants to heat up the ovens or grills. Garbage. Lots of garbage burning. Grass. Burn piles of all kinds . . . So maybe Old Dan is in a higher risk factor group . . . I don’t know . . .

Now we’re heading to the nearest bike shop: Comercio Al Por Menor de Bicicletas, in the town of Tonala – about 15 miles away. Tonala is not exactly Mexico City or Oaxaca – so we’ll see what this place looks like . . . If the aneurysm does not become a full blown hemorrhage for Old Dan . . . (Author’s note: My editor – Dr. Diana Liu Munger – was appalled that I originally had said “heart attack” here. Lots of disdain in her voice – and an underlying question (how can you be so dumb?) – when she told me that “it’s not a heart attack!”  . . . Me? I just hope that Old Dan doesn’t have one of those hemorrhage things. Sounds bad. I really hated dissecting frogs. Smelled so bad . . . All that formaldehyde.)

Oh, and Diana’s bike has started acting up again. Auto-switching between gears and won’t go into the highest chain ring in back . . . So while we’re stopped to look at the pig and the aneurysm I do yet another barrel adjustment (this one even after reading Dave P’s admonition . . .I’ve got nothing in my arsenal at this point). 

Honor System. Who knows what the problem is now?

And we are off . . . again.

Or are we? 

”John,” I hear. 

I look back and Diana has stopped.

“It finally snapped,” she says. 

“Oh no,” I think. “Those damn chains!”

Turns out it’s not the chain after all. It’s Little Ann’s derailleur cable. I don’t know if it’s just because she bikes so much – but Diana breaks more derailleur cables than anyone I know. 

No. I think Diana breaks more derailleur cables than everyone I know – combined. 

But, because I purchased extra cables 2,500 miles ago – after my cable broke, in, I think, Illinois (?) – we are prepared. And after changing Diana’s cables a few times over the last year (which meant lots of YouTube videos) I actually know how to do this.

Upshot? Little Ann is all good again. 

I guess I learned that just because the shifting starts going bad on the same day that I change the chains does not necessarily mean the chain has anything to do with the problem. Turns out that it was just a coincidence that Diana’s derailleur cable started fraying that day – which is why the shifting was going bad and Diana couldn’t get into her biggest chain ring in back. 

Now, be honest. (“This is for posterity. What did it feel like to have one year of your life sucked away?”) Who assessed the problem before I told this whole story? If you did, I think you can safely call yourself a master mechanic! (Consolation prize if you can at least identify the movie reference . . .)

Of course, not quite done with all this. Old Dan still has the double barrel aneurysm to contend with . . . 

We make it to Comercio Al Por Menor de Bicicletas in Tonala. Only it’s not quite a bike shop like we might think of a bike shop in the United States. Looks more like a pawn shop that specializes in junker bikes – mostly of the youth variety. 

They have a few tires, but nothing that will fit Old Dan. 

We ask if there is another bike shop in town. The guy in charge tells us to go out to the main road, take a left, go four blocks down – no three blocks – and take a left. He doesn’t remember the name of the place.

Remarkably, when we follow the instructions we actually find this other store. It’s a little hallway of a shop. Not just regular bikes. This guy also does motor bikes – which there are WAY more of in Mexico than the human powered variety. 

We introduce ourselves.

”Fidel – Fidel Castro,” Fidel says good naturedly. The “as in” is implied . . .

Fidel has one tire that might fit – but it’s a 2.5” wide mountain bike tire. Not going to work . . .

But Fidel says he can have a tire for us “mañana” (tomorrow).

Well, we were thinking of making our way to the Pacific today – but we can stay in a hotel in town tonight.

”Si, excelente!”

So we’ll be seeing Fidel again tomorrow – hopefully with a new tire. 

But either way we’re going to the beach tomorrow – because Diana has once again found a great airbnb for us. 

It was no easy task, let me tell you. First, she had to sniff out a scam airbnb deal. She was looking at two different places – but figured out that the two listings had the exact same pictures but different locations and different prices. Not that easy to pull one over on this girl who grew up in New York in the ‘80’s. Her scam-o-meter is well-calibrated and always on alert . . .

(You know some guy tried to mug her on the subway once? She just pushed him away and went on with her day. Don’t F___ with Diana!)

Anyway, we’re going to take a few days break on the Pacific Blue – before making our last push into Guatemala.

Okay – one last request for the crew . . . Even if you couldn’t identify the bike problem you can still earn major blog points. We want to add Diana’s Strava to the blog – but we need to know how to create a link that will bring the viewer to her latest Strava post. Who can help us figure out how to do that? (Note that we are not going to re-paste in her latest post every day – too much work. The link that we need needs to bring you to her latest post . . .)

And for those of you who have volunteered info and connections on Guatemala – thank you. We expect to follow up on all of that as we sit on the beach over the next few days . . . 

Author’s Note: A certain doctor we all know and love is very distressed about the name of this post. She says it is inaccurate because it is really a “double barrel aortic dissection.” I explained artistic license and also that Old Dan doesn’t actually have an aorta. But she is still not happy and wants to make sure that no one ascribes this bit of ignorance to her . . .