A report from the road

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A report in from our South of the Border Correspondent, and everyone’s favorite Uncle, Pistil Pete.

From: Pistil Pete
Well, Mazatlan is fun, but too much to hang out in for too long. Of course our man at Kelly’s Bike’s will keep you rollin’ an’ all around the city is fantastic ridin’ but I had to git.

I jumped onna bus to Tepic where they finally threw me off for general cussedness. Good thing too, the fucks. Their cussedness was worse than mine, to me at least…Anyhow, I figgered it was time to do a ride I’ve been thinkin’ about for longer’n I care to remember. I jumped outta town, headed for San Blas through mid day traffic an’ high altitude smog, sweet! Ten klicks out I hit the jungle an’ orchards. Green an’ smellin’ like this side’a Heaven. I don’t know what’s goin’ on but it seems I keep findin’ myself crossin’ mountain ranges on the ol’ Coyotero.”Oh, it’s all downhill from here”. I know you heard it all before too. Might be downhill inna car where the whole World looks like a T.V. show, but inna real world there’s shit like climbs an’ rolly areas to beat the band. That plus almost no shoulders in the whole state of Nayarit leads to some good times. It was mostly great. Found an’ ol’ lady sellin’ fruit an’ drinks onna side road I woulda never stopped at if I’da been livin’ that bullshit car drivin’ T.V. life. Bought some kinda star fruit an’ a pile o’ avocados the size o’ hen’s eggs. Wolf that good shit with a huge bolillo an’ it’s time to blast. I passed a few waterfalls before finally hittin’ the much anticipated twisty drops. My legs was FLYIN’ as top cog gives me 63 inches. Shit, the next day my inner thighs was sore…

I drop into Santa Cruz where some cat want’s to speak English. Alright, so I asks’im “Where’s the cheap rooms?” an’ he shows me a place I’da never found for sure. Right on the edge o’ a huge green swamp fulla birds an’ who knows what else. I’m thinkin’ gonna be a long night of no-seeums but no. Birdsong till pure dark then I’m out like a light as well.

Git up inna mornin’ an’ grab a cup of the finest Nescafe with a stale pan dulce from yesterday. It’s time to roll! First thing’s a climb to overlook the whole agricultural area an’ huge sweep o’ coast. It’s just what I needed to wake up the legs from a huge day of rolly ridin’ yesterday. It’s almost pure jungle next to the road but in the distance through the forest you can see where it used to be pure wild land there’s now tourist development. It seems they are closing off all the little paradise coves to reserve them for those who can afford to pay. Can’t have the hoi pal oi mes sin’ with your Mai Tais…

I’ve been hearin’ some dark rumors from some old friends down here. Clashes between locals an’ cops protectin’ the richies, you’ll never hear on corporate news. It might be good to rethink any thoughts o’ visitin’ those “remote, exclusive” properties o’ your rich friends…

So, rollin’ through scrub, jungle an’ farmland. It’s been a kinda rainy Fall, so everything is green an’ wet. Arroyos runnin’ I ain’t seen run in a decade. Do not stop to eat lunch, or you will be lunch, fuckin’ man eatin’ BUGS! As per, life is interestin’. Drop into Zacualpan for a quick paleta to cool my core the off to Las Varas an’ seein’ old pals. They give me a buncha shit about long miles onna fixie but I tell’em I’ll be back tomorrow, I need to set up my camp at home. At this point I’m warned that the old place is pretty well fucked over by development but that the beach is still nice. Ten kilometers and I’m there. Yess, they have been kind. The beach looks just like a concentration camp. I’ve never seen so much chain link fence in one place outside of a jail. Of course it keeps out the riffraff, but then I remember that I’m riffraff. Of course in Mexico a white face allows you special privileges that I at least might not deserve. I ride right past the cops guarding the place as if I belong. All my old pals must live somewhere else now, cuz there ain’t a soul livin’ here beachside. I turn around an’ hit the “town” an’ there’ everyone. We sit down to all the news of the last two years I missed out on while in Oz. Of course it’s the same sad story from SoCal to Black Mesa to Huatulco. Greed an’ Profit. I’m told that I was right about the construction of the paved road. Of course…

At least the countryside is still sweet. I’ve been out scoutin’ old through roads from before the days of the highway. Hot springs abound an’ because of the recent rains the arroyos are good swimmin’ an’ mid-day cool-off spots. Of course I have promised not to tell exactly where these sweet spots are so as to preserve at least a remnant for the locals. Mostly you can only get there by bike or afoot anyhow, at least for now. I’m always amazed at the roadbuildin’ ability of my fellow man.

So, I hope you guys are freezin’ yer asses off right now. It lends a special poignance to my enjoyment of warm days an’ sweet nights.

I gotta git. Here’s the cute little French girl I was gonna take to the arroyo for a natural spring water bath…
Yer Uncle,
Pistil

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