Minor Tribulations

Thursday, November 20th, 2014       
Somewhere outside Mexico City

There’s so much going on and it seems like I can barely keep up.  

      

A musing: I finally “got” the word “antsy”, today. I had been sitting on the ground at the Tultec ruins, and I had noticed a lot of ants.

When I got back on the moto to ride, I got the sensation of ants in my pants. I started squirming and moving around a lot. I was really antsy, and then it dawned on me; what it meant.

I had a similar moment of epiphany with the word “stoke,” once, involving myself, a bottle of wine, and a campfire. 

I really enjoy those moments of revelation.

~*~

The populated areas of Mexico are drastically different from the rural areas. It makes me a little sad because the cities are so crowded and “committed” to their designs, I find it difficult to imagine improving them. Only starting over seems to make sense.

To be honest, that came as a surprise to me after all my time on the highways and in the countryside—everything seems to work well out there. I expected the same kind of utilitarian order in the cities, but they are antiquated infrastructure that simply cannot cope with the population.

~*~

Friday, November 21^st, 2014
Veracruz

I’m sitting at a table under an umbrella on a beach.

I was interrupted twice, once by two different vendors, while I wrote the previous sentence.  I was interrupted a third time while I wrote the last one.

It’s tourist hell here, like Panajachel on Lake Atitlan, in Guatemala. But it’s okay.

~*~

Yesterday was a tough day.

I found out later that Mexico City was actually supposed to have mass protests and traffic blockades during the day that I drove through there. This, because of the 43.

I might have seen one of the demonstrations. I saw a very large crowd of people in a park that had a yellow fence.

My time in the city was an intense experience. From the moment I entered the city, I thought, “This is not for me, keep moving.” And so I did.

Later, on the way to Puebla, I encountered super heavy traffic and construction. After only 45 minutes, my left hand was tired from working the clutch, and I was impressed and amazed I had made it through without making contact with any vehicle.

I cut it closer than I thought I could, and each time I was surprised and relieved when I made it through a gap.

It’s especially nerve wracking when splitting a bus and a semi, and other big, long vehicles. I would grimace, tell myself, “I must,” and then I would. 

It’s a reflex for me to want to shut my eyes, but I kept them peeled, and I would get so close that parts of the bike like the saddle bags, would go under the semi-trailer so I could clear a bus or something else on the other side.

Afterward, I stopped for gas at the base of a slope, and ate pollo con papas (chicken and fries) at the gas station diner, while a Jean-Claude Van Damme '80s action movie played on several TVs in the background. Before continuing on, I needed this time to rest my mind, and the bike was hot too, so I let her cool down.

It was growing late, and it had been overcast all day. I finished eating and began to ride up a slope into the haze.

It started raining almost immediately.

I presumed I was going to go over a pass, but I really didn’t know what was at the top of the climbing road, which disappeared into the ether.

Instead of stopping again, this time for the rain, I decided to punch through, having a feeling the rain would not last.

I was right, and it subsided when I got to the other side of what turned out to be a mountain pass, and I was happy my gambit had paid off.

The day was old, and night approached. I stopped at two hotels I saw in Puebla, but they were too expensive, so I rode on into the night. 

I want to specially acknowledge the financial contributions from Alexandre Nguyen, Manny Rangel, Michael Pang, my mom, and my aunt Julie, as well as Kate Phillips and Ian Wheatland for helping make these words and pictures possible!