Days 163-165: Pueblos Manconmunados to Puerto Escondido

After a wonderful time in the tranquil mountains of Oaxaca, I decided that my bike may be in danger of breaking an axle or derailleur on the unbelievably steep and rocky roads. My bike is designed for pavement and light gravel, not trampling over mountains with 50 pounds of extra crap tied to it. 

I regreted that decision as soon as I was back on a busy highway huffing exhaust from passing vehicles. When you are in a perfect place, you forget about all the things that make it perfect. 

But there was no way I was going to climb back up the mountain, so I kept going in search of the next big thing. The next big thing turned out to be the world's largest tree. But wait, I thought I saw the largest tree in Sequoia NP? And I thought my other cycling friends saw  the largest tree in Redwood NP? Well turns out it all depends on how you define it. In Sequoia, they are very diplomatic and most plaques say "The largest tree in the world by volume." Here, they just say "The largest tree in the world." But let it be known that Thule tree is the largest tree by girth of its trunk.

European tour bus riders. 

This elicits the child in me to imagine all sorts of things. 

Me standing in front of El Arbol de Thule

 I blew past Oaxaca, the capital city and went on to a more seculded section. I was not ready for modern civilization yet. But before I got too far out of the city, I decided that it was time to cut the beard. It just wasn't fun anymore.

Before

 I felt very naked, but it was a relief to have it gone. I don't feel any remorse. I did feel a lot of razorburn, however.

After

 It took me a couple days to get all the way to the coast. After a day of easy riding, I encountered the western set of mountains, and boy were they rough. Many potholes plagued the highway, which was incredibly treacherous on the downhills, and in the places where they were repaird they did not smooth out the patches so it is like they decided to invert the pothole and turn it into a plateau! I decided that if it was time for my wheels to fall off, so be it.

They didn't fall off, it was just mildly annoying.

One fun thing that happened was that my timing coincided with a massive supported group ride from Oaxaca towards Puerto Escondido (but not all the way). Hundred of people accompanied me as I rode. What amazed me the most was that many of them were riding single speeds. Nothing against single speeds, but they are not usually the prefered choice of bikes for 15 miles of sustained climbs at 6 % or higher gradient. As a result many of them walked, but they never gave up. I was very impressed.

In addition to the company, some of the support trucks and vans gave me goodies as I was on my way. I don't know if they thought I was part of the group, or if they were just nice, but I got a sandwhich, oranges, soda-pop, red drank, and sweet bread. Not all at the same time though.

While riding with the group, we passed through a long stretch of nothing on the mountain. I assumed that because the other riders were still riding, a city must be close. I was wrong, and ended up having to ride through a rainstorm that turned into one of the most gorgeous sunsets I've ever seen because the sun lit up the clouds from below, making the entire sky yellow and orange, and against that backdrop you could see the individual raindrops falling through the sky. And of course all of this is happening while I careen down the mountain at 25 miles and hour trying to avoid the treacherous potholes I described earlier. For safety's sake and because I was feeling emotionally overwhelmed by all the beauty, I didn't take photos of the sunset. But I did get a photo of a massive rainbow. 

I made it to the next city after dark, and was allowed to camp in a park where many shops and comedors were taking advantage of the huge number of visitors. The next morning I plodded onward up some more mountains, (see the pattern?) and then down, down, down to Puerto Escondido, a touristy citty that is famous all over the world for its beaches and surfing.

 For over half the trip, I greeted mountains with vigor and spirit. But the western range of mountains in central Mexico were my undoing. Now that I am on the Pacific Coast (again) I will proceed as slowly as possible to delay my inevitable reentry into the mountains.

Here are some photos that are interesting:

I may have posted this one already. I tried drying my socks over a fire in the mountains. This worked, but after they dried they very quickly started to melt the polyester/nylon. These were my only socks. I now must buy new ones.

Each region has their own style of taxis. Some of them are motorcycles with wagons attached. This area uses tri wheeled... things.