Hotel Rancho Viejo has rooms for $27.

I cycle past bike commuters, horse carts, hombre carts, and pedestrians. I respond to friendly honks and waves all day.  Some folks stop to take a photo of me. There is a price for not knowing the language.  I paid two pesos (15 cents) to use a toilet, but the sign actually said “2 pesos for toilet paper” which I did not need.  That was a cheap language lesson.  Later I see turnstiles to enter bathrooms for 2 to 5 pesos.  The main highway has a 3m smooothly paved shoulder.  Many Texas roads have rough pavement ( gravel pressed onto asphalt) that cost me 1 or 2 kms/hr.  Pedaling into the wind is like pedaling uphill.  It affects my attitude more than my speed. There is no top of the hill in sight, where I’ll go downhill for 1500 km; unless I turn around and head north to Oklahoma.

I was ready to stop at the first hotel I came to; but I thought it looked like it might be too expensive. It costs only 350 pesos a night ($27); I’ve paid as much for a campsite in the US.

I rose before dawn, am on the road by 7 and cycled for 8.75 hours to get here.  I saw 2 Roadrunners and 3 Crested Caracaras.  At midday I turned onto a new highway with 4m shoulders and no Pemex stations for 85 kms.  They’re every 15-25 km on the main highway.  Of course I don’t need gas, but I can count on its modern OXXO convience store for fixed price cold drinks.  I’m trying different juices here that are cheaper than the Gatorade that I OD’d on in the US.  I did find a few (and far between) tiendas that had some (not very) cold drinks.  I’ve left the very flat terrain since crossing the Trinity river north of Houston.  So far it’s rolling hills with a line of  200m high mesas between the highway and the coast, which I have yet to see in Mexico. I lost the shoulder for the last 20 km.  Luckily traffic is light, late on this Sunday afternoon.  Yet the potential for getting hit is a much more real danger than swine flu or drug cartels.  As I approached some especially dangerous looking hills with curves I wondered “Is this where my trip will end?”

Crossing the Tropic of Cancer

I’m in the tropics!  On this, my 28th day of travel from Latitude 45, I crossed 23.27 degrees north latitude, the Tropic of Cancer.

After yesteday’s Century ride, I thought today’s 118 km would be easy. I was wrong.  I became very tired midday, estoy muy cansado.  I looked that up in my phrasebook when I finally took a siesta after 5 pm.  I was dragging all afternoon, stopping every 5 or 10 km for cold drinks.  The headwinds are no different, it’s just me.  Maybe my lack of energy is from not eating a hot meal since breakfast yesterday,  or getting a late start and taking more photos.  Then my front tire was low, again.  Even when brand new, the morning I left Talal’s, it had gone low overnight.  I checked then for leaks in a pail of water and found none.  The problem may be that the tube is too big.  In the photo you can see how much bigger, though they are both 26 x 1.5.  Instead of stretching the larger tube to fit the rim, it bunches up; which isn’t good.  I know in freezing temps the rubber may crack where there’s a crease in the tube.  Or maybe its a quality control problem.  I noticed a thin line of white liquid (latex?) oozing from a seam.  I pumped 300 strokes of air into the replacement tube.  After  the siesta and my emergency Clif gel I felt great, climbed a pass and cycled the last 19 km faster than I have all day.  Though when I finally arrived at the hotel here I”m too tired to go out to eat.

I'm taking a siesta

I stop for cold drinks at many roadside tiendas

The two tubes are not the same size

Highway construction crew

I felt great starting out in a cool fog, and stopped for breakfast after 40 km in Manuel. There I join a major highway, ending 150 km of no shoulders; except for a short stretch under construction. The head of a construction crew motioned for me to stop and asked to see my immigration papers. But he was just joking. Maybe he wanted to treat me like he was treated in the US. By noon the heat had sapped my strength again. I wonder: if I push on to Tampico will I just feel crappy?; or should I shorten today’s ride. I see hotels every 10 km or so. As the sea draws nearer I detect a coolness in the breeze. I stop often to stay well-hydrated and arrive here by 4 pm . Tampico is the first big city on my trip. After six days of shopping at Mexican tiendas, I cycle past Walmart, Home Depot, Subway, and Applebee’s. I ate at TGIFridays.

Lorenza

I begin the day tired and am soaked with sweat by 9 am, after crossing the high, 3 km long Tampico suspension bridge. No traffic problems, there are even other cyclists on the bridge. I am now in the state of Veracruz and the shoulder so far is less than a meter wide. That’s still much better than nothing. I finally decide to stop at a rustic tienda: coconuts, pineapples, jicama and honey are hanging from the thatched roof, and there’s no electricity. Lorenza takes a coconut from the icebox, cuts it open, and puts in a straw. After I drink the half liter or so of cool coconut water; she cuts up the meat and tops it with chili powder and lime juice for a refreshing snack. No other customers stop for the hour I chat with Lorenza, who is very patient with my poor Spanish. She also cut up a jicama, and topped it with chili and lime. I’ve still got 40 km to go to the next town with a hotel, and little energy left. I take a siesta under a tree at a Pemex with 25k to go. A freshening breeze blows off the Gulf of Mexico that I can see in the distance. Here the road turns inland, so I’ll have a slight tailwind.

The zocalo (Main Square) in hilly Naranjos

There’s rain starting out, so I turn on my lights and wear my lime yellow jacket for increased visibility. I discover that I stayed at the edge of town and had five more hotels to choose from. Still, I was thankful for where I stayed, even with the bedbug bites. I think this heat exhaustion started back in Texas, when it was a record high 40C (102F) in Kingsville on May 3^rd. That’s why I needed a three day rest at Talal’s, and an extra day at Aldama. I don’t know how I managed to pull off a Century ride on the 10^th with similar heat and headwinds. I realize now that I still have not fully recovered. I did not want to spend an extra day in Tampico, and last night I was at a noisy truck stop. Here, my hotel room is just off the main square (zocalo) for $19. A meal costs $2 and a beer is 75 cents. I’m wasting away in Margaritaville.

The Hotel Palencia on the zocalo

The new Me

I’m the only tourist in Mexico, staying at the best hotel in the town of Gutierrez Zamora in the state of Veracruz. My room on the third floor with a view of the waterfront cost $18. Yesterday, on my day off, I got my hair cut and beard trimmed; an hour’s work for $5. That is something I never did for the 2 ½ years of my first world tour.

Today was a very good day. I left under dark clouds with a cool wind coming down from the Sierra Madre del Oriental. It’s a west wind and I’m heading south and east. I finally get a tailwind and It’s not hot. I’m climbing and descending through jungles in the foothills. Jungle fowl that fly like pheasants glide overhead. The sounds of the jungle are ringing in my ears. Midday I cycle on a limited access toll road with a 3m shoulder, no charge for bikes. No Pemex stations for 75 km and few tiendas. The passes are gradual and graded like our freeways, so I make good time, even with intermittent rain in the afternoon. 176 km cycled is the second furthest day on this trip.

The coast at Palma Sola

I wake up to rain. After breakfast in the hotel restaurant the rain has let up. Across the zocalo, schoolchildren and police are holding a ceremony. Just 5k out of town I get a flat as I approach a tienda. First thing I do is grab a chair and order a Coke. Then I patch the tube, remove a piece of glass from the tire, and install the thornguard liner. This is the first flat after almost 4000 km on the rear tire. Today is spent cycling the Ezmeralda coast, starting 200 km north of Veracruz. Hundreds of hotels, resorts, and restaurants line the beach for a 25 km stretch of the road. I wonder if any are open. When it starts to rain I think I should stop at one ’till it clears up. I’m soaked when I stop at The Italian Coffee Company. A couple of Brits are hunched over their laptops. They are not tourists. They manage a nearby resort and verify that no tourists are here due to the swine flu. Though they watched me cycle up, they ask nothing about my travels. After changing into dry clothes and eating, I log on to update my website. An hour after the rain stops I’m back on the road. I want to get halfway to Veracruz today. The highway veers away from the coast for long stretches with no hotels. By 4:30 I wonder that if I don’t stop soon I may run out of daylight. It starts to rain here in Emilio Carranza; so I head for a nice hotel on the highway; but they charge $45. So I go into town and find a place for $10.

Veracruz Cultural Institute

One of several Devil's Towers

I met an American cyclist this morning.  He didn’t want me to take his photo or mention him here; so I’ll just describe his rig.  The bike is home-built, with the seat 1.6m (5 ft) off the ground.  It’s pulling a trailer, (also home-built for $1,000), with a box 1m square, the top 1.6m (5 ft) off the ground, and four 26-inch wheels.  He doesn’t know how much it weighs; but it’s clearly too heavy to tow behind the bike.  He was pulling it like a beast of burden with a rope attached to sack cloth around his abdomen.  He makes about 15 km/day and spent a week in the town I just came from.

Magnificent Frigate Birds glide effortlessly overhead. Several Devil’s Towers  poke out of the landscape around here.  After breakfast the nice tailwind had turned into a headwind; so 1 km out of town I reversed my course and continued south into Veracruz with that great tailwind.  I’m at a nice hotel in the historic zone of Veracruz.  The price is 50% less than listed on the internet.  No one but me eats dinner in the hotel’s restaurant.  Even the grand hotels on the zocalo are full of empty tables, waiting for you.

Your table is waiting.

Pedro, Marcos, Joaquin, and amigos on the waterfront

The cathedral across the zocalo

Marcus & Patricia in their Russian motorcycle with sidecar

I wandered around the beach area of Veracruz before getting a late start. Lizards the size of my forearm, maybe iguanas, move fast in the ditches. I thought I even glimpsed a small lizard running upright on two legs. The whole day was spent on the autopista (freeway). I knew I’d have to spend 7 hours on the bike, so leaving the city at 11 am meant I had to push to get here by dark. So I did. 40 km from here a non-Mexican couple on a motorcycle with sidecar passed me by. I wondered if we’d end up in the same town tonight; and when I was looking for a hotel they spotted me. They are a Swiss and German couple, Patricia and Marcus, who’ve been traveling the world for 14 months and have 7 more to go. They, too are heading for South America.  We’re on different cycles; similar journey.   Their website is www.patmac.ch

Different cycles; we may cross paths again