-
Welcome to the Two Wheeled Texans community! 
Feel free to hang out and lurk as long as you like. However, we would like to encourage you to register so that you can join the community and use the numerous features on the site. After registering, don't forget to post up an introduction!
Dos Semanas En Mexico
- Thread starter SpiritAtBay
- Start date
28sep, Th
Before leaving Matamorelos, I needed to exchange some money. For the first time, this proved to be a hassle. I went into two different banks that had the exchange rate posted in a window, only to be told ‘no’. Walked into a third one, the busiest yet, looked at the lines for the tellers and walked out. John was waiting with the bikes. As we stood by the bikes a couple approached. The young lady explained that her mother works in the bank I had just left. She (the mom) told her daughter that it looked like I might need some help and sent her daughter out to see if she could assist us. I explained. She said that yes, the bank would be happy to exchange my dollars. We thanked her but by that time, John and I were beyond ready to be on the road. I was touched that her mom had been that aware and caring to send her daughter out after us. And it helped gloss over the rude treatment I had received at one of the previous banks.
Today's track,(yellow line) 232miles
As we headed toward Real de Catorce, John began to worry that we might arrive too late in the day to take the tunnel into the city. Nothing to do but to press on and try our luck.
I had heard so much about the 20 mile cobblestone road leading to the tunnel that when we finally reached the turn off, I was nervous. People, including John, had warned me about how rough the road is, about the turns it makes, about the speeding buses crowding you. Doubts filled my mind. What if I couldn’t handle my 500 plus pound steed on this road? It was getting dark already. What if we got to the tunnel only to find it closed and I had to ride all the way back down IN THE DARK? What if I couldn’t do it? What if I dropped the bike? What if what if what if….. ARGH! “Stop right there” I told myself, “you don’t know til you try.” A small part of my brain was surprised that this little mini-lecture seemed to work. A larger part of my brain told the smaller part to shut up and not question it.
We turned onto the road and I got my first glimpse of it, I said to myself, “Relax, this is going to be a piece of cake.” And it was. Yes, it was really bumpy and yes, the tires wandered around a good bit. But it wasn’t narrow. It isn’t steep and there were few buses but they weren’t obnoxious.
Best of all, when we got to the tunnel entrance, it was still open for business! Yay!
Real de Catorce, Ogarrio Tunnel Entrance
There is a short wait while traffic from the city exits the tunnel. Then it is our turn. My equanimity evaporated when John's voice in my ear warns me the surface in the tunnel is "slicker than snot." It was dry and smooth and had not worried me at all until this announcement. Now I tensed up and slowed down, staring hard at the ground ahead of me. In the dim light it was hard to see much. After a few minutes I relaxed a little and dared to look around at the tunnel itself. Amazing thing. It goes for a little over a mile and even hangs a right turn in the middle.
After what seemed like an extraordinarily long time to be riding under a mountain, suddenly we popped out on the other side. The scene is chaotic, people on foot, donkey and horse carts, dogs, trucks, autos and motorbikes all moving in random directions in a muddy, open area. Am so glad John has been here before and knows his way. A tense and hair raising few minutes later and we are in front of our hotel, although we are not sure where to park the bikes, and even have difficulty getting off of them! The streets are narrow and steep and all are cobble stone, rough and uneven.
What an introduction to this amazing town!
Beautiful Real de Catorce!
Before leaving Matamorelos, I needed to exchange some money. For the first time, this proved to be a hassle. I went into two different banks that had the exchange rate posted in a window, only to be told ‘no’. Walked into a third one, the busiest yet, looked at the lines for the tellers and walked out. John was waiting with the bikes. As we stood by the bikes a couple approached. The young lady explained that her mother works in the bank I had just left. She (the mom) told her daughter that it looked like I might need some help and sent her daughter out to see if she could assist us. I explained. She said that yes, the bank would be happy to exchange my dollars. We thanked her but by that time, John and I were beyond ready to be on the road. I was touched that her mom had been that aware and caring to send her daughter out after us. And it helped gloss over the rude treatment I had received at one of the previous banks.
Today's track,(yellow line) 232miles
As we headed toward Real de Catorce, John began to worry that we might arrive too late in the day to take the tunnel into the city. Nothing to do but to press on and try our luck.
I had heard so much about the 20 mile cobblestone road leading to the tunnel that when we finally reached the turn off, I was nervous. People, including John, had warned me about how rough the road is, about the turns it makes, about the speeding buses crowding you. Doubts filled my mind. What if I couldn’t handle my 500 plus pound steed on this road? It was getting dark already. What if we got to the tunnel only to find it closed and I had to ride all the way back down IN THE DARK? What if I couldn’t do it? What if I dropped the bike? What if what if what if….. ARGH! “Stop right there” I told myself, “you don’t know til you try.” A small part of my brain was surprised that this little mini-lecture seemed to work. A larger part of my brain told the smaller part to shut up and not question it.
We turned onto the road and I got my first glimpse of it, I said to myself, “Relax, this is going to be a piece of cake.” And it was. Yes, it was really bumpy and yes, the tires wandered around a good bit. But it wasn’t narrow. It isn’t steep and there were few buses but they weren’t obnoxious.
Best of all, when we got to the tunnel entrance, it was still open for business! Yay!
Real de Catorce, Ogarrio Tunnel Entrance
There is a short wait while traffic from the city exits the tunnel. Then it is our turn. My equanimity evaporated when John's voice in my ear warns me the surface in the tunnel is "slicker than snot." It was dry and smooth and had not worried me at all until this announcement. Now I tensed up and slowed down, staring hard at the ground ahead of me. In the dim light it was hard to see much. After a few minutes I relaxed a little and dared to look around at the tunnel itself. Amazing thing. It goes for a little over a mile and even hangs a right turn in the middle.
After what seemed like an extraordinarily long time to be riding under a mountain, suddenly we popped out on the other side. The scene is chaotic, people on foot, donkey and horse carts, dogs, trucks, autos and motorbikes all moving in random directions in a muddy, open area. Am so glad John has been here before and knows his way. A tense and hair raising few minutes later and we are in front of our hotel, although we are not sure where to park the bikes, and even have difficulty getting off of them! The streets are narrow and steep and all are cobble stone, rough and uneven.
What an introduction to this amazing town!
Beautiful Real de Catorce!
Backing up a bit. Want to include a bit about the ride to Real.
Left Montemorelos about 10am. Rode to Dr Arroyo. Exchanged some dollars there. Ate grilled chicken. (We were charged the gringo price.)
Our route took us through piney mountains and picturesque villages. Blue skies and sunshine. Temps were cool, the mountain air bracing. Felt wonderful. We reached 8,100’ in elevation.
Left Montemorelos about 10am. Rode to Dr Arroyo. Exchanged some dollars there. Ate grilled chicken. (We were charged the gringo price.)
Our route took us through piney mountains and picturesque villages. Blue skies and sunshine. Temps were cool, the mountain air bracing. Felt wonderful. We reached 8,100’ in elevation.
Images from Real
We hiked the steep, coblestoned streets, our shoes slipping on the still wet rocks. We gawked at the goods set up for sale. We gawked at the vendors, the children, the townspeople, the world weary back packers, the horses, the donkeys, the dogs. And sometimes folks gawked at us.
The town was readying for an onslaught of the masses. Festival for St. Francis of Assisi would begin in just a couple of days. Temporary vendor stalls lined the streets. Tarps were strung up everywhere.
We hired a guide and horses and rode out of town and up the mountain to see the ruins of the silver mines
Emilio, our guide
We hiked the steep, coblestoned streets, our shoes slipping on the still wet rocks. We gawked at the goods set up for sale. We gawked at the vendors, the children, the townspeople, the world weary back packers, the horses, the donkeys, the dogs. And sometimes folks gawked at us.
The town was readying for an onslaught of the masses. Festival for St. Francis of Assisi would begin in just a couple of days. Temporary vendor stalls lined the streets. Tarps were strung up everywhere.
We hired a guide and horses and rode out of town and up the mountain to see the ruins of the silver mines
Emilio, our guide
Wow! Great pics and prose. Thanks for posting.
Sent from my SAMSUNG-SM-G900A using Tapatalk
Sent from my SAMSUNG-SM-G900A using Tapatalk
JQ1.0
0
I see Kermit likes Mexico too. Looks like he could benefit from a better riding position.
Hey Mr. Queen! (How's that eye?)
Yeah, I wondered if there was a story behind that frog being there. Alas, Emilio's English was limited. And my Spanish nonexistent...
Yeah, I wondered if there was a story behind that frog being there. Alas, Emilio's English was limited. And my Spanish nonexistent...
Our hotel in Real is the beautiful, quaint, rustic Las Ruinas de Real.
Made famous in some circles because it hosted most of the cast for the movie, “The Mexican” (which just happens to be one of my all time favs.) Julia Roberts apparently left behind a tank top in her room. It is now framed and hanging in a place of honor in the hallway. (Sorry, we lost the pic of said top when I accidentally drowned JT’’s phone. Judging by the top, she is a tiny woman.)
The desk clerk showed us around a little and said he would show me Julia’s room tomorrow, if it were empty. Alas, we were out all day.
Julia's top is hanging in this hallway.
I enjoyed the hotel. What it lacked in creature comforts, it more than made up in atmosphere. (The mattress may as well have been plywood with a sheet thrown over it.) We stayed two nights in here.
Made famous in some circles because it hosted most of the cast for the movie, “The Mexican” (which just happens to be one of my all time favs.) Julia Roberts apparently left behind a tank top in her room. It is now framed and hanging in a place of honor in the hallway. (Sorry, we lost the pic of said top when I accidentally drowned JT’’s phone. Judging by the top, she is a tiny woman.)
The desk clerk showed us around a little and said he would show me Julia’s room tomorrow, if it were empty. Alas, we were out all day.
Julia's top is hanging in this hallway.
I enjoyed the hotel. What it lacked in creature comforts, it more than made up in atmosphere. (The mattress may as well have been plywood with a sheet thrown over it.) We stayed two nights in here.
The ADV Donkey
Our 2nd evening in Real, we chose a sit down restaurant. A chance conversation there revealed that the tunnel would close that night. The only traffic allowed through would be horse drawn carts ferrying pilgrims in and out of the city. We would not be able to ride out in the am as we had planned.
We hotfooted it back to the hotel and confirmed the tunnel closing with the clerk. He assured us we could find secure parking for the bikes on the other side and he could arrange transportation for all our gear in the morning. So, we rode out through the tunnel and paid to park the bikes in a quasi-secure area. While waiting to re-enter, I struck up a conversation with a friendly vendor and his daughter and they gave us a ride back through the tunnel. It was after midnight when we hit the plywood, still wondering just how we would get 4 heavy, bulky cases, our riding gear and ourselves to the tunnel in the morning.
Come morning, I went down to mime with the clerk (It’s always the same guy, no matter the time of day or night, I’m beginning to suspect he lives behind the counter.) Of all the things he says this morning, there is one word I understand, “ cabellero”. “Bueno” I tell him. I’m envisioning a cart or perhaps string of ponies carrying us and our all our gear to the tunnel entrance. (One for me, one for John and probably 2 for our luggage, and another for the vaquero, right?) 45 minutes later an older gentleman arrives leading one donkey and two ponies. “Ah,” I revise the scenario in my mind, “my pony will also carry my gear. Poor thing, but it’s probably been asked to do worse.” John’s cases are larger and heavier than mine. As though he is thinking the same thoughts, John says, “I’ll walk, me and the cases would be too much.” I agree and say I will walk too. But the gentleman vaquero has already decided how this will play out. He begins to load all 4 cases onto the donkey. John and the hotel clerk help and incredibly they quickly tie two cases on each side of the staggering donkey. (He didn’t really stagger.)
Without preamble, the old man sets off, leading his donkey. The two ponies follow of their own accord. John and I fall in, carrying our jackets and helmets. We pause at an open stabling area, leaving the two ponies to join some of their buddies and we carry on. Although John and I find the sight more than slightly ridiculous, we hardly garner second looks as we make our way through town. The donkey scraped a case on a parked car once but after that he seemed to gauge his load quite well.
The charge? 100pesos (~5usd). When I paid the gentleman, he gave us a blessing.
Our 2nd evening in Real, we chose a sit down restaurant. A chance conversation there revealed that the tunnel would close that night. The only traffic allowed through would be horse drawn carts ferrying pilgrims in and out of the city. We would not be able to ride out in the am as we had planned.
We hotfooted it back to the hotel and confirmed the tunnel closing with the clerk. He assured us we could find secure parking for the bikes on the other side and he could arrange transportation for all our gear in the morning. So, we rode out through the tunnel and paid to park the bikes in a quasi-secure area. While waiting to re-enter, I struck up a conversation with a friendly vendor and his daughter and they gave us a ride back through the tunnel. It was after midnight when we hit the plywood, still wondering just how we would get 4 heavy, bulky cases, our riding gear and ourselves to the tunnel in the morning.
Come morning, I went down to mime with the clerk (It’s always the same guy, no matter the time of day or night, I’m beginning to suspect he lives behind the counter.) Of all the things he says this morning, there is one word I understand, “ cabellero”. “Bueno” I tell him. I’m envisioning a cart or perhaps string of ponies carrying us and our all our gear to the tunnel entrance. (One for me, one for John and probably 2 for our luggage, and another for the vaquero, right?) 45 minutes later an older gentleman arrives leading one donkey and two ponies. “Ah,” I revise the scenario in my mind, “my pony will also carry my gear. Poor thing, but it’s probably been asked to do worse.” John’s cases are larger and heavier than mine. As though he is thinking the same thoughts, John says, “I’ll walk, me and the cases would be too much.” I agree and say I will walk too. But the gentleman vaquero has already decided how this will play out. He begins to load all 4 cases onto the donkey. John and the hotel clerk help and incredibly they quickly tie two cases on each side of the staggering donkey. (He didn’t really stagger.)
Without preamble, the old man sets off, leading his donkey. The two ponies follow of their own accord. John and I fall in, carrying our jackets and helmets. We pause at an open stabling area, leaving the two ponies to join some of their buddies and we carry on. Although John and I find the sight more than slightly ridiculous, we hardly garner second looks as we make our way through town. The donkey scraped a case on a parked car once but after that he seemed to gauge his load quite well.
The charge? 100pesos (~5usd). When I paid the gentleman, he gave us a blessing.
Last edited:
M38A1
Admin
lol.... a one horsepower adv conveyance vehicle comes to mind with those pics! 
The previous day wWhen we rode up to see the silver mine ruins, we noticed a Brahma bull grazing in a walled enclosure. Who would have guessed he has a side job.
I grabbed this pic while huffing and puffing behind the ADV donkey on our way to the tunnel.
My, what long horns you have!
And here's his little buddy
The staging area in front of the tunnel entrance. These are the carts that will ferry festival goers in and out of the city.
I grabbed this pic while huffing and puffing behind the ADV donkey on our way to the tunnel.
My, what long horns you have!
And here's his little buddy
The staging area in front of the tunnel entrance. These are the carts that will ferry festival goers in and out of the city.
Windmill
0
Why do they close tunnel ? Is it traffic during the festival? Enjoying the adventure.
Precisely, there is absolutely no room for parking inside the city during the festival.
We knew of the festival but thought we would be gone before the crush began.
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2010
- Messages
- 3,705
- Reaction score
- 3,020
- Location
- Victoria
- First Name
- Gary
- Last Name
- Turner
Looks like a great trip.
I love the culture and the people of Mexico. The skills they posses to survive are often simple yet lost in our country today. The luggage tied to the saddle horn with one piece of rope is an example. In the U.S. we would have used ratchet straps or bungee cords, most young people here can't tie a knot or secure much with just a rope. I am not saying that technology is bad and I often take advantage of it, but it does good to remember it is not necessary. The carts for the people are functional and serve the purpose well. In the U.S. people would be complaining of how shabby and dirty they were, but all I see is smiles of anticipation for the festival.
Thanks for sharing with us.
I love the culture and the people of Mexico. The skills they posses to survive are often simple yet lost in our country today. The luggage tied to the saddle horn with one piece of rope is an example. In the U.S. we would have used ratchet straps or bungee cords, most young people here can't tie a knot or secure much with just a rope. I am not saying that technology is bad and I often take advantage of it, but it does good to remember it is not necessary. The carts for the people are functional and serve the purpose well. In the U.S. people would be complaining of how shabby and dirty they were, but all I see is smiles of anticipation for the festival.
Thanks for sharing with us.
- Joined
- Nov 27, 2013
- Messages
- 2,760
- Reaction score
- 1,619
- Location
- Highland Village (Dallas) TX
- First Name
- Bart
- Last Name
- Nale
Great story and so well written. Thanks Gina!
Especially liked 'hit the plywood' and 'mime with the clerk'
Especially liked 'hit the plywood' and 'mime with the clerk'
Who would have guessed that one would ever have to load one's cases on a donkey? This is truly an adventure ride!
Sent from my SAMSUNG-SM-G900A using Tapatalk
Sent from my SAMSUNG-SM-G900A using Tapatalk
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2016
- Messages
- 320
- Reaction score
- 70
- Location
- Goldthwaite, Texas
- First Name
- Monte
- Last Name
- Jernigan
Neat to see TWT stickers on boxes on a mule.
Great story.
Great story.
tshelfer
0
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2009
- Messages
- 13,478
- Reaction score
- 2,847
- Location
- Centennial, CO
- First Name
- Tim
- Last Name
- Shelfer
Great pictures, Gina. Just great pictures. They really capture the story.
As to the ADV donkey, hats off to him. As Kickstand-Prophet can testify, I can barely handle ONE set of panniers without misjudging my width and doing a fall-down-go-boom.
As to the ADV donkey, hats off to him. As Kickstand-Prophet can testify, I can barely handle ONE set of panniers without misjudging my width and doing a fall-down-go-boom.
TheD-Man
0
Very much enjoying your story and pictures. Thank you.
Great pictures, Gina. Just great pictures. They really capture the story.
As to the ADV donkey, hats off to him. As Kickstand-Prophet can testify, I can barely handle ONE set of panniers without misjudging my width and doing a fall-down-go-boom.
Don't feel bad Tim, JT and I each had to make two trips to get all our gear down to the street.
Our plans are very flexible and are prone to change on the fly. Each evening and again in the morning John sets up his laptop and studies maps and the gps and we decide on a destination and a course.
Invariably something happens to change it. The rain slows us or makes changing the destination advisable. Sometimes, though it is because things just take longer in Mexico!
In any case, we got an early start (for us and considering the mode of our departure) from Real. Today’s destination is Jalpan de Serra with the option of stopping over in Rioverde if we don‘t make it to Jalpan.
Things go smoothly albeit wetly and we arrive in Jalpan in the late afternoon. Both of us are in desperate need of clean clothes. John spotted a lavenderia as we came in to town so we bundle up our dirties and walk over to it. 65p/less than $5 to have 2 loads washed, dried and folded. The lady is obliging about having it ready by 8:30am. (Like we would be ready at that time--but hope springs eternal!)
After dropping off the laundry, we walk the wet streets to Senor Rapido’s food stall and once again enjoy his awesome gringas. Senor Rapido was popular with the rally crowd a couple of years back and for good reason; he whips up the food hot and delicious. It rains while we are eating and some of the vendors in this informal food court scramble to adjust tarps to shelter their diners.
Rain has dogged us off and on. When we leave Jalpan the next day, it is sprinkling. The sprinkles soon become heavy rain. The ride through the mountains to Pinal de Amoles, which I had been really looking forward to, becomes a slow, tense, slog. Heavy rain, fog, slick roads and the occasional diesel spill in the road keep our speeds down and we keep a sharp eye on our six o’clock for careless drivers charging up from behind.
Did stop for this waterfall.
Pano of the hairpin turn. What's John doing on the other side of that wall?
With the rain unrelenting, there is no reason to linger in Pinal de Amoles. It’s a big disappointment for me, Pinal is a lovely little town and I was really looking forward to exploring it. We visited this town in 2015, the weather was perfect then but we were rushed for time. Now we have the time, but…
We continue west to Zimapan. We arrive in late afternoon and it is not raining! We choose the Hotel Central, right on the square, a lovely old building. As we unload, Andean flute music permeates the air, lending a surreal atmosphere.
The town appears to be preparing for a holiday or a festival. We wander around, enjoying the sights, smells and sounds and, frankly, the lack of rain.
Anybody know more about the offset window in this church?
Love it!
The flute players are set up off to one side and we stand and enjoy the music for a while.
Little girl enjoying the music
I purchase a tiny llama keychain for a friend.