We left Mazatlan and with it the Pacific Coast, the heat, the humidity, life by the water.
The mountains greeted us with an abundance of lime colored almost florescent yellow butterflies. The humidity increased for a while and the little shops selling mango on the side of the road were countless in numbers. We were sweating even before getting on the bikes and the rain had set in early in the day. Sweat, rain, didn't matter.....we were soaked, but ready for it too.
We also knew we were up for some climbing. Durango is some 1900m up on a plato and we had to cross the Sierra Madre which are even higher (and here I am writing this at 2600m).
The thunderclouds started forming already early in the day and now we can hear the thunder....climbing towards them, we found a little sign on the side of the road, Copala, and though we hadn't really traveled that far, we went to check it out for the night. Downhill over cobblestones that stuck out far enough to make the bikes jump at every pedal stroke. We kept going down while no site of the village, we imagined having to come back out in the morning, or worse, the same day if this doesn't work out for the night. But we were in for a suprise: A charming little mountain village with a somewhat ghostly feeling to it. The only hotel in town was huge and looked like it had seen some better days, but it was cheap and interesting and the restaurant still open.
This was the place to be and when the thunder really rolled in and our bellies were full we went for a walk, lucky to be here.
Next day:
Climbing on Saturday the 14th ALL DAY and in the rain too!! The morning started sunny and pretty humid and warm and when the afternoon thunders came in I was ready to call it quits, but there was nothing for us.......even the butterflies were gone....
Not like the nice little showers that cool you off, more like scary heavy rain which doesn't stop (like the night before when we were in our cozy little hotel room) and the thunder rattles your brain and shakes you scary. The climbing got annoying and even more so the trucks and the heavy traffic in general. The views made up for some of it, but when things don't go right, it's just hard to enjoy at that point.
We rolled into a village and knew we had to stay and it wasn't our little charming Mt village at all. The place looked more like a truck stop.
Pretty soaked and uncomfortable walking with our bikes around big busses and trucks and (of course) people starring at us, we came across a police station and ask the guy standing outside if we can camp on the porch.
Done deal, no big deal - we set up tent, had dinner made with our little cook stove (even had a cold shower in a filthy bathroom, but the water get's you clean, even if the bathroom is filthy)
That night wasn't meant for sleep though. Trucks were stopping and going (and, have you ever heard a truck using it's engine to stop? It makes the ground and your head explode with noise) , people talking, lights going on and off, donkeys and horses (yes!!) rummaging through the garbage next to our heads outside the tent AND James getting sick - violently ill would be a better way to say it......
After only a few hours of sleep we took off in the morning for more climbing, but the weather had changed, the mangos had gone and so had the butterflies and we were surrounded by fog and (way to) low temperatures, besides trucks and heavy traffic.....Who's idea was this anyways?
This was a tough day!!! Too tough for my taste and we only got glimpses of the spectacular mountains that surrounded us, while we suffered to climb higher and higher on the never ending winding road, in the never ending fog and the never ending string of trucks, busses and traffic in general which made us jump in the ditch (if there was one) to safe our lives. We got cheated out of the view by the fog and I was not in the best of moods, feeling sorry for James who was dragging his ass without any food and little, very little energy. After climbing a significant amount (we are at over 2000m now) the road started hugging the cliffs along the side, still climbing....every once in a while the fog would lift to tease us with an unbelievable view and the trucks give us a 30 second break, so we can actually take our eyes off the back mirror and the road in front of us....I have never seen anything like it!!!
Still the mantra wouldn't stop: This fucking doesn't end.....it goes on and on and on and on and on.
I had gotten used to the little shops along the road selling goodies, but even those were gone and the thunder in the distance started to let us know it's time again for the daily down pour.
One could truly panic and I admitted to my self and the world, that I was having a tough day to say the least and I couldn't even imagine what James is feeling like after spilling out all his insides the night before.....it's just beyond me, truly!!!
At some stop before a big road construction a friendly american speaking person told us a bit about the next section of the road and it didn't sound so bad (I was ready to hitchhike at this point), so we got back on our wired donkeys (yes, it's a German expression) and went onward, brave and courageous, the plato is reachable and then it's downhill to Durango and even some villages before.
Well, literally the first house I saw on the side of the road was mine!! (not downhill yet......really, we are talking 3 days of climbing....I don't think I have ever climbed that much on a bike 160km=2600m and some extra, 'cause there where a few ups and downs)
Two sweet ladies were minding their business when I approached, thunderclouds looming over my head, asking if my sick friend and I could stay or camp or something. (Yes, I know how to say it in spanish). They were cleaning up a room and looked at each other and said: Yes, you can have this room!!!
It was some daughter or granddaughter or niece's room and they just let us stay - comfy and cozy while the rain started, they feed us their dinner, let us sleep in their bed and we - once again- feel like we are the luckiest people on earth!
