January 23 :: Zihuatenejo, Mexico

January 23 :: Zihuatenejo, Mexico :: 201 km / 2056km total

Last night amidst discussions about tomorrow´s route on Road 134 - "La Carretera de la Muerte" the "Road of Death", Tim decided to take the bus. Had I known beforehand what today was like, I would have taken the bus, too.

The route is known as "La Carretera de la Muerte" for 2 reasons. One, it sees a high motorist death rate due to hairpin mountain road bends, and cars not making the turn in time. Two, it sees a high level of bandit activity. To avoid both eventualities, the Golden Rule is to be off the route by sunset, or thereabouts. Linger, and you're asking for trouble.

On a feeble amount of sleep due to anxiety about today's ride, I slipped out of Coyuca de Catalan just before sunrise. The road rolled and headed towards the greyish mountains looming on the horizon. I focussed on eating and drinking, pushing to get as far into the mountains as I could before the heat of the day set in. All things being equal, on a steady grade I would have 1400 metres to ascend before cresting and plunging down the other side, towards the Pacific.

But all things were NOT equal. The road climbed, climbed, climbed, then dropped, dropped. Climb, drop. Hundreds of vertical metres at a time. Up, down, up, down, exhaustingly, and worse, slowing my progress forwards. To add to all this, my map was wrong and the mileage would be more than expected. 70km in I couldn´t feel my legs and had to stop, quivering from head to foot, and recover. But I couldn´t stop for too long - the threat of the Sun, and the background threat of bandits - urged me onwards, legs or no legs. I began to realize that this ride would be one of the hardest I have ever done.

78km in a Godsend - a German guy in a pickup truck stopped, ecstatic to see me - he had ridden this route by bicycle 2 years ago! He had exact mileage figures for the summit (108km from where I started), info about the final 17km climb to the summit, where the little roadside drink places were, and the total route length to the Pacific (183km). With this knowledge I could lay down a gameplan and try to follow through. He wished me luck, and off he went.

At the 91km mark the final, most brutal of all, climbs started. I tried to make it 5km between brief rest stops, but could never last that long. It was so hot. I dumped over myself, and drank, many litres of water. The legs were really starting to protest. I was yelling at myself to keep moving. When the road pitched insanely upwards for brief 50 metre stretches I had to walk, pushing my bike forwards. The kilometre markers ticked by SO SO SLOWLY. Then, 2km from the summit, I hit the Wall. Nausea, light-headedness. I could not eat anymore. I forced the final 2km and virtually collapsed at the summit.

It was 2:30pm. 108 insane mountain kilometres, the hardest 108km touring that I've ever done, in 8 hours. Not a stellar pace, under "normal" circumstances - but YOU try it. I had to stop for 10-15 minutes to prepare mentally for the descent - I could see it was going to be hairy. Can't descend a mountain in a mental fog. I forced down some warm Coke and 3 cookies, and mounted back on the bike.

The descent was real, hardcore, mountain descending. I was, quite literally, scared. Whatever "guardrails" there were, were only 2 feet high at most - just high enough to topple over a cyclist and ensure you descend off the cliff head-first. Looking down at the winding road so far below brought back the nausea - so I had to ignore the views and just stick to the task in front of me. A wrong move, a mis-timed corner, an unseen rock, a broken brake cable - La Carretera de la Muerte.

30km and 30 minutes later the road flattened somewhat, and continued towards the Pacific in the lower valleys. Agonisingly, the road climbed and descended, climbed and descended. I had nothing left in the tank and climbed slowly, slowly. But... be off the road by Sunset... have to keep moving, moving, moving....

Finally, finally, the coastal highway 200 appeared in front. 183 mountain kilometres done. 5:30pm. I ate a small pizza, drank some milk, and forced myself not to throw it up. Now, about 20km to Zihuatenejo, where Tim was. God. How can I make it.

Thankfully the road was flat... or so it seemed. A final 2km climb just before town was just enough to send me into oblivion. As I write this I can't eat, and keep eyeing the banos here at the Internet Cafe. I don't think we're riding tomorrow.

On another note, Tim had a pleasant day here in the resort town of Zihuatenejo. I should have taken the bus.