Trans-Mexico Day #4 El Salto To Durango

Trans-Mexico Day #4
El Salto to Durango 
Trans-Mexico Day #4
December 30, 2021
El Salto DG to Durango DG 99Km
Start 7:48am Finish 1:18pm
Ride Time: 5:04
Ascent: 971m
Descent: 1592m
Tour Total Km: 302

I slept great in room 102 of los Piños hotel in El Salto. Last night the power returned around 11pm. I tried to upload yesterday’s report, but there was still no Internet service and I went to sleep. Once again, I had weird dreams. I stayed warm in my long underwear with the heater cranked. I woke up at about 7am, and it was still dark outside. The outside temperature was 36°F, and it was a slow pack up. I was wearing my long underwear top and bottoms, long sleeve jersey, short sleeve wool sweater, rain jacket as shell, cycling shorts, leg covers, heavy wool socks, waterproof socks, shoe covers, balaclava, and long finger gloves. I was prepared for this kind of weather. The sun had come up by the time I got on the road.

I had a nice big climb straight out of town, and then stopped at an OXXO for a JuMex mango juice and an Olé Cappuccino. The air was hazy from smoke. The lumberyards were burning off their sawdust, and household garbage tended to be piled up alongside the highway and burned. The rising sun blazed strongly from the east, and I expected it to be much brighter than yesterday. 

I put on my sunglasses at the OXXO. I was still at an elevation of 8400 feet. The jagged bluffs from the past two days appeared to be behind me. I was still surrounded by pine trees and lumber operations. A frost had rolled in, and all the field grass tips were white. I was riding flats and down hills and I’d get chilly on the descents. I came to another town that had an OXXO, a restaurant and a PemEx. I wasn’t used to so many services. The libre joined up alongside the cuota, and then crossed over to the south side. After a few kilometers I wouldn’t see the cuota again. I was starting to get hot from the climbing. 

I rode into the medium-sized town of Llano Grande with the cuota just to the north. A dog ran out onto the road toward me and I told him to turn around. I was in a wide valley and the ridges to either side of the road lacked yesterday's massiveness. Locals could be seen heading for work on motorcycles, in pick-up trucks, and in the back of collectivos and. The air remained smoky.

I had pedaled 33 km by 10am. The sun was now strong and I was getting hot, so I pulled over to remove my leg warmers, top long underwear, and short sleeve sweater. I swapped my long fingered gloves for my short fingered gloves. I was still wearing my balaclava, long sleeve jersey, rain jacket, cycling shorts, long underwear bottoms, heavy duty socks, waterproof socks and shoe covers.

I hit the 50Km mark at 11am. The peaks of the Sierra Madre range had calmed to reveal flat highlands with steep valleys that occasionally opened up beneath me. I would descend down from the highland and into the valleys, and then climb back up the other side. I was now at less than 8000’ elevation and there were still pine trees. The road began to twist and turn as I descended down into a narrow Canyon. I crossed over a stream and then climbed back up the other side. After the canyon I found myself on top of another flat with cattle grazing, grass, and pine trees.

I passed two westbound day cyclists who were probably doing a loop out of Durango. They were the first cyclists I’d seen on the tour. I was riding a great flat section in wide-open country with cattle grazing, and amber fields of grass. There were very few trees, and I passed another day cyclist headed west.

I descended over 900 feet down into a deep valley to cross another stream. While I enjoyed the downhill, I knew that on the other side I’d have to make up for the descent. It was a long slog back up to the plateau. As I was climbing, I was passed by another westbound cyclist who was enjoying his downhill. I was still climbing when I heard a voice to my right. A campesino was cheering me on chanting, “Moni Moni Moni Mo!”. He held his fist up high. It was a nice boost.

I pulled over at a lookout to removed my rain jacket. I was down to my long-sleeve jersey and balaclava. Back up on the plateau, it was wide-open space with far away silhouettes of distant mountain tops. I had a slight crosswind. I rounded a bend and could spot Durango far away in the valley. I was still twenty kilometers away. A motorist sped by me and signaled the victory sign out the window. From here it was all downhill into town. I passed under the welcome gate and the highway opened up to six lanes of divided traffic. I passed through the windswept dusty industrial area on my way into the center of town.

I needed to have my front rim looked at. Alex & Marina, the Russians whom I had been following on Instagram, had recommended Area Sport. They had had new chain rings installed there. Area Sport didn’t have any 700 wheels for rim braking. They only had mountain biking and disc brake wheels. I went around the corner to a bicycle parts store. They thought they had the correct rim, but it was too large. I was sent to a bike store three blocks away. They had 700 wheels that were way too narrow. I then rode out to Radikal Bike Shop, that also didn’t have the right wheel. I was near Walmart, so I stopped to get a bottle of camping gas. It was the first and hopefully last time I ever set foot in a Walmart. I purchased a giant bottle of gas, that turned out to have the wrong size fitting.

The mechanic at Durango Trek said that he could could fix the dings on my rim and examine the integrity of the joint. It was practically a brand new wheel and the walls were still strong. He was able to significantly smooth out the dings and promised me that the joint would hold. Gonzales didn’t charge me, and I remarked that he was the friendliest mechanic in Durango. My front braking was now smooth, which would free up my reliance on the rear brake.

I now went searching for camping gas. I googled camping stores and ended up at a mall looking for a North Face store. I hate malls and my blood pressure spikes whenever I’m in one. No North Face. I was then directed to a department store with a camping section. More blood pressure spikes. They didn’t have camping gas. I couldn’t figure out how to get out of the store - it was a claustrophobic labyrinth. Finally I rode over to an outdoors store called Vertimania. It was my last option, and luckily they had the type of gas canister that I needed. I would now be enjoying gourmet freeze-dried cuisine out there in the bush.

I had researched various hotels before the tour and used an app to make a reservation. I rode back through the beautiful colonial streets of Durango towards Plaza de las Armas, which was decorated for the holidays. There was a large ferris wheel and merry-go-round erected on the plaza. I rode over to the beautiful Hotel Roma, which had been built in 1918. The bell hop helped me bring my gear up to my room. My errands around Durango had cost me another 22 km.

My room had a balcony that faced the street. I did laundry, shaved, showered, and began charging my devices. I went for a walk and enjoyed several Dos Equis and mezcal margaritas at a local watering hole. I walked over to La Descendencia, where I enjoyed Espárrogos Envueltos, Sopa de Tortilla, Filet mignon with mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and mixed salad with several Cervezas Victoria. It was a great meal to celebrate the crossing of the Sierra Madres and to prepare me for the coming days. I grabbed a few Tecates for the room, and returned to edit this report.


Cornfields in the Highlands

Day cyclists out of Durango

A deep canyon. The cuota can be seen in the distance

Durango

Durango Centro



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