Dancing Saddle

San Miguel de Allende was a bit of a disappointment for me. It felt overrun with foreign retirees and the city was catered to their needs and it felt like the city had lost its character and what originally made it special. It was still beautiful and had its moments but I was very happy just to be passing through and I couldn’t wait to get going again.  

San Miguel de Allende is has a reputation of being an art city. All around the city you can spot sculptures, murials and paintings.

I left San Miguel de Allende on Mexico’s election day. The climb out of the centro was extremely steep and I had to push my bike up the cobble roads. I passed a polling station on the way out. It was a very pleasant and uneventful ride for most of the day. When I arrived in El Pueblito, I messaged ahead to the camping site to make sure there was space for me. Unexpectedly though, it was closed down cause the owners were going through a divorce. I had to turn around and head back into the city and ended up staying in a car motel that had hourly rates if required. I wasn’t concerned by my broken spoke as of yet and that would cause trouble for me later.

A voting station on the outskirts of San Miguel De Allende. A food delivery carousel at the hotel I stayed at.

The next day I left not realizing I would only get as far as Coroneo. It was another hot day with a steep climb out of the city and I felt pretty listless from the get go. I hadn’t slept well and even a Tim Hortons’ coffee couldn’t get me going. The sun was directly on my back for the whole day. At about 25 kilometers into the ride, I heard that dreaded ping of a second broken spoke. I knew that the third would be following suite soon enough. I nursed my bike a long to Coroneo. Slowing down all the way over any speed bumps or pot holes. I could hear the rear wheel ticking a long taunting me with every click.

A water sports lake just outside Coroneo which is what Coroneo is famous for. On the bus for the first time with my wheel down two spokes.

When I arrived in Coroneo I sat down with a paleta while coming up with a game plan. I would stay two nights in Coroneo and then bus back with my wheel to El Pueblito, where there were a few decent bike shops and have it fixed there. The next day I bus backed to El Pueblito. While waiting for the spokes to be replaced, I went to the bank and got myself my first haircut of this journey. The bike shop did a great job and by late afternoon I was back in Coroneo. To commemorate my haircut, I decided to shave as well. I felt and looked ten years younger and the cleanest I have looked in months.

Thank you Bike Clinic for the quick repair. Ireally appreciate it. It felt amazing having a haircut and a shave.

Starting my ride to Ciudad Hidalgo I was struggling to get motivated. Thankfully the day started with a long stretch of downhill. Once the uphill started, I felt mentally lost and continuously distracted. I was forcing myself along and not taking in any of my surroundings. Just outside Ciudad Hidalgo I stopped at an Oxxo for some paletas and water. A family from Michigan stopped to chat with me which helped to cheer me up. After they left, I zoned out again though moments later, I spotted another bike packer in the distance but I had no energy to wave or shout out. It did feel good to know that I wasn’t alone out here. In Ciudad Hidalgo, I met a Mexican family that planned to move to Australia. I really enjoyed speaking to the them and finally I felt a bit cheerier.

I was so tempted just parking up my bike and walking into the pool, clothes and all. Beautiful artwork is everywhere, even in hotel rooms.

That evening, I video chatted with two close friends and spoke about my listlessness. They suggested I take a day off but I ended up ignoring them and I am glad I did. For some reason that day the sickness was the cure. The body needed the break but the mind needed the stimulation. I am so glad I decided to ride because I felt great the whole day. I blew right past my camping spot but ended up in this tiny town of Ixtapan del Oro. I ended up staying in this uncomfortable water resort but then took a walk to the plaza where I met Ricardo and his family. They took me under their wing and I got to experience the local fiesta, which I believe is called Santos Corazon. There were shows put on by local singers and the church children. It was a wonderful experience and I felt very privileged. That evening, I tried to find the hole in my air mattress by dipping it in the pool but no luck.

The beautiful plaza of Ixtapan del Oro. Ricardo’s daughters waiting for the show to start.

The next day I rode out of Ixtapan del Oro. I had to work my way round this stunning valley. It took nearly all morning to get around it and could still see a village in the middle from the beginning of the ride. It was a beautiful stunning memorable ride. The next stretch was not nearly as enjoyable and I lost all motivation once I got to Valle de Bravo. Dinner that night turned out to be a big mistake. In the morning it was time to head off and potentially reach the high point of the Mexico section of the journey. After 11 kilometers going mostly uphill, I knew something was wrong. My stomach was acting up and I knew if I risked it, I would be in big trouble in the middle of nowhere. I decided to turn around and head back into the city. My stomach was speaking to me all the way back but thankfully it was downhill. I found a cheap comfortable hotel and did what I needed to do and spent the next several days recovering.

Walking around Valle de Bravo while waiting to recover from my stomach bug.

Several days later it was attempt number two. I still felt a bit weak and decided to take the slightly easier route round the volcano instead of over the volcano. It would still involve a lot of climbing. Little did I know that later it would be my saddest moment. A late start and stopping for coffee at a café that had coffee so good I had to have a second cup didn’t help matters. I also made a navigation mistake and accidently got onto the highway. I promptly turned around and got on the right road when I saw a sign warning imprisonment for cyclists if caught. A relentless day of climbing continued. Soon it was getting dark and I needed to get a place to camp. In Aqua Bendita I asked the shop owner if there were any options. There weren’t any and she suggested bussing to Toluca. I was gutted by this but there didn’t seem to be any other option. It was only 40 km and in the greater scheme of things it was nothing, but it felt like everything to me. When I got onto the bus I felt a profound sense of sadness wash over me. I was surprised how badly it affected me. I felt like I betrayed myself, let myself down. It was bound to happen but I felt the pain of the decision.

Enjoying an apple near a stream that was the perfect spot to cool down about halfway up the climb that day. The moment I realized that I would be bussing.