Which way should we go?
What road should we take?
Most of the time we're pretty certain about where to make our next stop, but very rarely do we know how we want to get there.
Upon leaving the city of Xalapa, we decided to follow our good friend and fellow cyclist Paco's advice. He suggested we take a much steeper road, crossing over the hills of the Cofre de Perote — a time-worn trail that is rumored to have been travelled by Hernan Cortes upon his arrival in Mexico.
High altitudes and steep roads start to take on new meanings when you're traveling by bicycle. The effort is greater, the mileage is less, the views are better, and the changes in weather are many; and this route proved to be no exception.
Our departure coincided with the beginning of the rainy season, which we. prepared for by keeping our rain jackets handy. However, we didn't expect the to get caught in a hail storm halfway up the mountain. Each droplet of frozen rain I could hear banging against my helmet reminded me how far we've come from the beach and warm weather.
As we made our way up the mountain, we were immersing ourselves deeper into the richness of the mesophilic forest, wet and vibrant from the seasonal showers. The road was scattered with arborescent ferns the size of palm trees, and streams of fresh water where we could fill our water bottles.
We got to pick handfuls of wild berries for breakfast, take our midday break under the shade of a capulin tree and taste its delicious little red fruits (photo below), and by the time we reached out destination, our lovely host Esmeralda gifted us a bag full of blood-red plums.
I think it's important to pay attention to and mention the local fruits we've been tasting, not only because I found them delicious (although admittedly it's an important factor) but because fruits have a lot to say about the place where they grow. Also because after months of eating mango, papaya and coconuts, these forest berries feel like a novelty to us.
You start to notice so many changes in the flora and fauna as you move further up, such as the herds of goat and sheep that scattered the landscapes. At times it felt like we were crossing the Swiss Alps, with the Orizaba Peak covered in snow in the background.
Once we made it to the slopes of the mountain, we realized that most people who live there are potato farmers, because it's one of the only plants that will grow at such heights.
I wouldn't exactly consider myself tolerant to the cold temperatures that we experienced on the mountains, but I was able to manage thanks to a family of potato farmers who welcomed us into their cozy home and offered us a taste of their crop in different ways: boiled plain with a pinch of salt, in chili sauce and a traditional stew.
For every up there's a down, that's what makes the world go 'round. Although it took us about a tenth of the time to ride down the mountain as it did to trek up it, the contrast in climate was equally as drastic. As I write this, I'm overlooking the Alchichica lake, a vast scenery that reminds me of the Greek islands, with its white rocks, wandering sheep, blue water and desert hills.
We rode for miles of dry, arid flatlands to get here, the borders of the road lined with all kinds of cacti, magueys, and nopales. I kept thinking about how cycling introduces me and exposes me to each new environment in a way that makes me more sensitive to it. As my mind tried to register all the subtle differences, my body attuned to this new ecosystem: the dust blowing in my eyes, my lips parched from the dryness, my skin tanning under the sun.
When you travel by bike, you become very conscious about how vulnerable and exposed you are, but that doesn't necessarily need to be something negative. On the contrary, vulnerability also has its own power-- it helps you develop and evolve in other aspects: sensibility, humility, attention, orientation and all your senses of perception.
The variety of landscapes we get to cross and the different paths we decide to take have been training my mind as well as my body to perceive in different ways. As I mentioned earlier, we seldom know which route to choose... but what we do know is that each and every one awaits us with a new lesson to be learned.