Days 103 Through 108: Cuernavaca And Oaxaca City

I was grateful to arrive to Cuernavaca to have the opportunity to rest after seven straight cycling days.  More importantly, after a few nights of good sleep, my stomach problems seemed to get better and I finally had an appetite again.  Luckily, I recovered just in time to enjoy a lovely lunch at Sumiya with Gonzalo's mother and her boyfriend, whose name also happens to be Gonzalo.  Sumiya is a japanese-mexican fusion fine dining establishment and is housed in the former estate of the infamous Woolworth heiress Barbara Hutton and her seventh and last husband.  They designed the estate to emulate traditional Japanese architecture complete with its own kabuki theater...

Even though I was feeling better, I decided to de-parasite-ify myself with some VermoxPlus.  Approximately 7 in 10 residents of Mexico have parasites, and doctors recommend that they take VermoxPlus every six months.  It's innocuous if you don't have parasites, and at $5 a treatment, I figured it wouldn't hurt to take it just in case.  I would have been devastated had I arrived in Oaxaca, the culinary gem of Mexico, with an upset stomach and no appetite.

In Mexico, no prescriptions needed... just go to any pharmacy and ask for VermoxPlus!

Gonzalo and I decided that we would make Cancun our end point despite the fact that my deadline of September 1 would require us to "cheat" a bit and take advantage of the extensive network of buses.  We had intended on throwing our bikes on a bus from Cuernavaca to Oaxaca, but instead, Gonzalo's brother and mother decided to join us and so we road-tripped it instead.

If I had to live in Mexico, I would probably choose Oaxaca.  I fell in love with it the first time eight years ago and coming back here has only reinforced my opinion of this city.  It's not too big, just 250,000+ people.  Nestled in a gorgeous mountainous area, this city reeks of culture, diversity, education, music, art, creativity, cycling, craft beer, organic local food, grass roots activism, adventure sports, and all the good things in life.  Normally I hate crowds, but even now, during the tourist-laden Guelaguetza, the city feels welcoming and vibrant.

Guelaguetza!  It's Oaxaca's famous indigenous cultural event... it feels a bit more commercial than the first time I came to Oaxaca for the Guelaguetza, but I'm still enjoying the sights, smells, sounds, and vibrant energy the Guelaguetza brings to this city.

The buildings here burst with creativity and color.

Obligatory church photo.  Every town has at least one or ten.

Ready for the throngs of visitors.

Oaxaca is the first city I've seen in Mexico with an actual cyclist infrastructure... and it's actually being used!  We also had dinner at a restaurant where there was bicycle parking back by the bathrooms.

My favorite exhibits of Oaxaca this trip, a gorgeous photography series of Guelaguetza dancers and an interactive Calder exhibit.

No space unwasted.  Creativity abounds.... as does this young boy who dashed into my shot.

One of many random events in the streets...

The mezcal fair... this time around, I handled the mezcal tastings much more responsibly than eight years ago!

Carmen, Antonia, and Gonzalo's brother Benjamin take a sip <insert name of random mezcal>.  Carmen and Antonia are from Córdoba Spain and have had the misfortune of being adopted into our motley crew.

My spoils from the night... lil bottles of my two favorite mezcals... one infused with almond and the other with tamarind.   They were pretty cheap so whatever I don't drink between now and our next riding day is getting donated to some starving backpacker.

We decided to pile everyone into the car and head out to the nearby archeological ruins of Monte Alban, one of the earliest cities of Mesoamerica.  With the Guelaguetza in full swing, Monte Alban was swarming with people.  Benjamin snagged one of the last tour guides and off we went to explore the ruins.

View of Oaxaca from atop Monte Alban.

I used some innovative, though perhaps not the best, perspectives and techniques to take photos of this archeological site without the mobs of people.

Nothing but flowers here...

The piece on the left is an original; the ones on the right are replicas.

Benjamin finds a secret passageway which may or may not have been used to fool the masses in some ritualistic disappearing act.

I'm not entirely sure that the pretty flowering grasses hide the people well enough, but I refuse to post the typical picture of the ruins dotted with a bazillion people. 

After a long hot day wandering around the ruins, we recharged ourselves with some contemporary Oaxacan cuisine and fancy beers.  While it's been a treat to share meals with Gonzalo's family at various fine dining establishments, I'm ready for my massive fruit salads cobbled together from the best of the local market and antojitos served up by little old ladies on the street.

One advantage of the fancy restaurants is they all carry the bestest of the local Oaxacan craft beers, Teufel.  This agave honey ale is stellar and is also available on draft in some places.

Our last day in town, we got a slow start thanks to late night beers and conversations at an open air bar on the main plaza.  We still managed to squeeze in one last tourist attraction, the 2000 year-old Montezuma cypress in Tule, before Gonzalo's family headed back to Mexico City and we got ready for our night bus to Tuxtla Guttierez where we will hop back on our bikes to continue on through Chiapas.  

Oh Mexico, I love you and your double entendres.

This tree is so massive it has it's own little ecosystem inside the fence protecting it from overzealous tourists.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• Although Oaxaca is home to dozens of hostals and economical lodging options, everything was pretty much booked up.  I considered ourselves lucky that we were able to reserve beds at the Hostal Plaza del Carmen (305 Matamoros) with just one days' notice.  While it didn't have the gregarious hostal atmosphere I like and the rooms a bit spartan, it was centrally located and quiet (they lock the doors at 11pm, but will let you in if you knock after 11pm).

• Oaxaca, much like San Miguel de Allende, has its share of upscale restaurants.  While I normally don't frequent these types of restaurants, I opened up my budget a bit to take advantage of the amazing food and to be able to eat with everyone else.  If you are going to splurge on one meal, I highly recommend Viznaga, which had a stellar craft beer selection, generous food portions, and spectacular food.  For cheap eats, head to the market on 20 de noviembre where you will find countless food stalls dishing up traditional moles and everything in between.

Days 100 Through 102: Almoloya de Juárez To Cuernavaca

Along with the amazing food of central Mexico comes the amazing mountains of central Mexico.  Between San Miguel de Allende and Cuernavaca stood over 500 kilometers and over 7500 meters of climbing, reaching an altitude of over 3800 meters on the Nevado de Toluca, a now-dormant volcano.

I've never handled altitude particularly well... I tend to lose my appetite above 3000 meters and I had a few major bouts of nausea summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro and getting over Dead Woman's Pass on the Inka Trail.  So when I lost my appetite and started having digestive problems, I chalked it up to the altitude.  However, over the next few days, I found myself unable to eat much at all and doubling over with sharp shooting pains.  The few times I did manage to put food and water in my stomach, it didn't seem worth it for all the stomach gurgling and cramping that immediately followed, so I ate just enough to not faint on the bike.

Notwithstanding all of this, I would do it again in a minute.  The dirt road that runs through the Nevado de Toluca national park is what chasing dirt is all about...

Cloudy skies give way to a beauuuutiful morning.

This friendly fruit vendor refused to accept any money for the fruit I tried to buy.

When we asked if there was somewhere to get breakfast nearby, his neighbor, Ruth, offered to make us breakfast accompanied by her amazing homemade tortillas.  She, too, refused to let us pay.  We sat a while to chat with her and her son about everything from bike touring (she has hosted other bike tourists before) to why Mexicans are migrating from the Catholic church to other forms of Christianity.

Her son is a talented graffiti artist... he gave us this piece as a parting gift.  So when his art becomes famous, I have proof that I knew him before he got big.

We found a nice dirt road alternative on the way to the Nevado de Toluca... which turned into a little town and then into something that looked like a pretty awesome singletrack.  We discovered that yes, that track did reunite with the road we wanted, but it would have been a rough climb (aka, lots of bike pushing).  Because my stomach was acting up so much, we decided not to take that route... next time.

The Nevado de Toluca off in the distance... we weren't sure we would get a better view because of the clouds so I snapped this picture just in case.

Photogenic flowers.

We made it to the Nevado de Toluca national park!  Here, a well-maintained dirt road takes you through the park and up to a tollbooth, parking lot, and posada where you can camp or sleep in a bunk.  We found out after the fact that it is about 3.5 km from this sign to this area.

Had we known we were so close, we would have stayed at the posada... instead, we jumped a fence to camp in the fog about 1 km short of the tollbooth.

The next morning, we woke up to cool clear skies and the sounds of dozens of cars passing below.  I peered out of my tent to see that every single car had mountain bikes mounted on racks.  Turns out that the Nevado de Toluca is a mountain biker's haven and that this particular weekend, cyclists were preparing for an upcoming mountain bike race.

Clear views of the Nevado de Toluca!

We were quickly adopted by Los BerrakosBike crew.

While I've read there is a fee for cars to park, the folks at the tollbooth did not charge us anything to come in by bike.  We made a beeline for a comedor which served up a delicious wild forest mushroom soup and some decent quesadillas with squash flower and huitlacoche (a yummy corn fungus).

We knew this was the season for the wild forest mushrooms because we saw dozens of folks on our climb selling bucketloads of mushrooms.  This soup was simple... super mushroomy and flavored with epazote.  No filler, nothing to distract from the pure mushroom flavor.

I was a little disappointed by my quesadilla de flor de calabaza y huitlacoche, mostly because the tortilla wasn't freshly made.  Yup, getting picky.  Of course, I was also feeling pretty cruddy from all my digestive issues, so maybe I'm being a bit harsh.

Heading down the backside of the park offers a different view of the Nevado de Toluca.

These cows don't realize how good they've got it.

After a glorious descent down from the Nevado de Toluca, we started winding our way towards Malinalco where Gonzalo's mother and brother would meet us to visit the archeological ruins and give us a lift into Cuernavaca where we would finally have a few rest days after seven straight days of cycling.

This part of Mexico state is very populated, which makes wild camping almost impossible.  We opted for a hotel in the town of Tenancingo so we could shower and get a good rest... this gem only cost 200 pesos.

The view approaching Malinalco, which is located in a stunning valley.

The grade on this road is so steep the pavement has ridges to assist cars in braking.

Gonzalo heads down this awesome descent.

Obligatory photo of the church in Malinalco.

While I don't get very excited a churches in Mexico in general, the artwork inside this one was done by Aztec slaves and is one-of-a-kind.

My favorite mural.

Ooh pretty!

Awww, proud mama with her two sons.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• If I had to do this again, I would plan to stay at the posada at the tollbooth parking area and do some hiking and unloaded mountain biking.  Lonely Planet says that the food stalls are only open on the weekends and to bring your own water and food if you arrive during the week.  We were able to get both water and food since it was a Sunday.  There is a little town just before the dirt road turnoff for the park where you can stock up.  Even better, stop at the tiny store before the town to stock up... the young couple that runs the store makes some amazing enchiladas and the señorita is a climbing and rappelling enthusiast.

• Remember that museums and archeological sites in Mexico are closed on Mondays.  We were unable to see the ruins in Malinalco because we forgot it was a Monday... luckily the church was worth the visit!

• This area is also known for trout, we went to a lovely restaurant in Malinalco to feast on local trout and it was amazing.  This is saying a lot because this day was the worst for my stomach and I still ate my whole trout. 

Days 96 Through 99: San Miguel De Allende To Almoloya de Juárez

From San Miguel de Allende, we decided to head south towards Celaya so Gonzalo could conquer his childhood love and nemesis... tiny wooden boxes filled with artisanal cajeta.  Much like Parral is famous for its dulce de leche, Celaya is famous for its cajeta, a gooey caramely mess of sweet deliciousness made from goat milk.  A young Gonzalo used to fight to open these tiny wooden boxes, only to have the boxes splinter into pieces, requiring him to eat around the shards of wood.  It was time to see if the slightly-more-adult Gonzalo would be able to successfully open the box of cajeta.

All smiles for now... later, we would find out that these tiny wooden boxes filled with artisanal cajeta from Celaya would still be a challenge, though one Gonzalo successfully conquered with the help of his trusty pocketknife.

We headed into town to take a look around the main plaza and found ourselves in the middle of Celaya's market day.  After throwing down some unremarkable pozole at one of the market stands, we decided to make it a short day and camp about 15 km outside Celaya near a town called Juan Martín.

I was fascinated by these leaf-cutter ants... sometimes when you find an early camping spot, there isn't much else to do than pester the wildlife.

I opted for the easier-to-open nut-flavored cajeta chewy candies... I consider it my obligation to eat at least two of these a day lest I lose too much weight... or something.

My cozy little spot tucked under a tree and in between the nopales.

The next morning, we rolled into the tiny town of Juan Martín where we found one of the ubiquitous señoras to make us breakfast, eggs, fresh homemade cheese, spicy pickled nopales, rice, and freshly made corn tortillas (Gonzalo also added a bit of barbacoa to his breakfast).  One of the things I love about Mexico is that you can sit down at almost any little restaurant and just ask them what they have and custom-order a meal.  It's nothing like the U.S. where you feel like you have to order off a menu, rather, it's more like looking in your mom's pantry and refrigerator and asking her to whip something up for you.  This particular "mom" also explained to us how to clean a nopal and gave us some fresh leaves with which to make a special tea.

We finally started seeing the effects of the rains we had been riding through.  Brown earth ready for planting gave way to gorgeous green farmland, though much of this farmland was on an industrial scale.

Small towns with dot the countryside, breaking up the miles of farmland. 

I snapped this shot of rains pouring down in the next valley while chatting with a couple farmers near Jerécuaro, Guanajuato.  One of them had spent the past 40 years in the U.S., but returned to his hometown because his parents passed away and left him their land.  He lamented that his daughter had never been to his hometown.

Gonzalo and I like to take dirt road detours and shortcuts when possible to avoid traffic... the rains made this road a bit more interesting. 

And sometimes what the GPS considers a dirt road turns out to be not quite a road.

But the GPS has yet to fail us... we found our way back on track in no time.

It's strawberry season!!!  At 13 pesos a kilo (basically, US$1.00 for over 2 pounds), we couldn't resist!  Plus, the lady was very nice and washed the strawberries for us at no extra charge.

Morning view from inside my tent somewhere near Maravatio de Ocampo.

Now that we are officially in central Mexico, towns are frequent, and the food is becoming more and more delicious.  On Thursday, July 18, 2013, I ate the best enchiladas of my life somewhere near Maravatio de Ocampo.  If you come across the Cocina Economica "Erica," I highly recommend you ask for her enchiladas topped with a pair of eggs sunny-side up.  These enchiladas are made with huge handmade corn tortillas (no wimpy little ones, she boasts) smothered in a delicious homemade mole sauce, filled with cheese and/or chicken, then topped with onion and served with savory beans.  For this hungry cycle tourist, she was ready to make me another plate of enchiladas at no extra cost, but I couldn't fit anything else in my belly.

Beyond the delicious food, Erica was one of the warmest most welcoming-ist (is that a word?) people I have ever met.  She ushered me inside and invited us to use her space if we wanted to prepare our own breakfast or just to rest...

So greeeeeeeen!

I made a new friend while waiting for Gonzalo to order some ice cream.

Mountains and mist... and then we finally got caught in a huge rainstorm.  Yaaaay, lots of climbing in freezing rain and hail and awesomeness.

We take a small break to admire the mountains in the aftermath of the rainstorm.

This guy couldn't start his car and asked for a push start.  We obliged to no avail, but he was so grateful we stopped to help that he gave us a pack of sweet bread for the road.

Taking advantage of a break in the rain, we managed to find a campsite high up on a hill across from a Christmas tree farm.  We had some visitors early in the morning, a brother and sister charged with taking their small herd of sheep out to eat.  I shared the sweet bread we got the day before with them.

Even the tiniest towns have a bike repair shop... this one was pretty awesome and the guy gave us a big thumbs up as we rode by.

I may or may not have spent a solid five minutes and half a memory card trying to get this little guy to look at me. 

We chugged our way up wet climbs, battled fatigue / cold / rain - induced stress, and ended the day at around 3000 meters camping near Almoloya de Juarez, the notorious site of Mexico's maximum security federal prison.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• As you approach central Mexico, there are many more towns.  This is good, from one point of view, because food and water is never an issue, and you can load up on goodies in town for dinner and camp just a few kilometers later.  This is bad, from another point of view, because wild camping becomes more difficult.  However, because this part of Mexico is much more safe than the north, we aren't as concerned if we can see a little house off in the distance or if people see us pulling our bikes off the road.  Camping spots may be tucked on a corner of a piece of farmland (we are careful not to camp on any crops), and we don't consider farmers to be dangerous.  Usually, they'll look at you with curiosity... we just wave and say hi, and they don't really care so long as you aren't ruining their field. 

• In some of the smaller pueblos in central Mexico, the indigenous folks are just as curious about us as we are about them... though I can't escape the feeling that they are laughing at us.  I would try to eavesdrop, but more often than not, they speak their indigenous language rather than Spanish.