CREEL TO GUACHOCHI

I took my time this morning and checked again on the route taken by another rider from HU, Drwinite, and headed to Guachochi. I was still feeling disappointed with myself that my confidence hadn’t been up enough to take on the tough roads to Urique and Batopilas, but convinced myself that the paved winding mountain roads were challenge enough for me. In Australia I had done 30,000 kilometres on Ziggy but 29,000 of that was flat and straight roads. Winding rides like these were a completely different ride and I was finding that enough of a challenge. Farewell to Creel.

The sight of an enormous boulder sheered from the cliff above blocking the entire road, reminded me that these roads are still a potentially dangerous adventure! 

I rode on and the bends became tighter and higher with the next three hours being some of the most picturesque and thrilling riding of the trip. I was winding high into the mountains around curves that seemed to last almost a kilometre, tight switchbacks that had me down to second gear and even then Ziggy was low in revs. The usual collection of rocks and gravel on both edges of the road a constant reminder of the ever-present danger from these mountain roads.

I was taking a slow pace to appreciate the scenery as much as I can when I dare to look up from the road for a microsecond. I feel a lot more relaxed when I am going slower, but it means that the usual high-speed Mexican drivers overtake me on blind corners and solid lines, and often they seem to have little regard for their own safety with poorly maintained vehicles. One vehicle overtook me with a young girl of about three or four hanging out the window waving, no seatbelt. It was a little car and soon disappeared around the bends ahead of me. Will I see them over an edge somewhere?

Today was an emotional day for me. It is just over six weeks since I landed in Los Angeles and there was a lot going through my head. I felt somehow disappointed with myself that I wasn’t able to do the rides through Copper Canyon and see these beautiful little towns I had read about. As much as I can justify to myself that it is the right decision not to take those roads, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of failure.

 I think this was accentuated by thoughts of home. I thought about my family and friends a lot today. It hasn’t been easy to coordinate times for contact with Australia so I haven’t had the chance to speak with them as much as I would like. I have also burnt my bridges, or actually had no bridges left to burn. I don’t have a home to return to, not even a city that I can call home. I have family in Brisbane who I can stay with but Brisbane doesn’t feel like home to me. Nowhere does really. I really am a nomad.

 I have no job to go back to and don’t have a career that I can just easily pick up from where I left. I was very fortunate to pick up a high paying job for three years at a time when I had no other commitments and that allowed me to plan and fund this trip. That was a temporary contract that is now finished. Of course I knew all this when I left but today I was feeling very alone in my helmet climbing to the top of a mountain only to go down the other side again. Do I question what I am doing? Do I question why I am here?

 So it was a day I was in my head way too much. Was it something about the six-week mark of a trip? A holiday usually lasts only two or three weeks. The extended five-week holiday to Spain and Morocco last year seemed long. Six weeks is the beginning of a longer journey, yet I still feel like this trip is just beginning.

‘The adventure will begin once I get to Mexico’, I told my family and friends and I was right.

 I’m sure this is just a hump along the way and I have no doubt my emotions will settle. I think this is a normal process for all travellers on long trips when there is no end date. When working with refugees in Australia the biggest difficulty for them psychologically was not knowing how long things would take, not having a time frame or an end date. The ones who learned to take things day by day with no expectations, coped well and became involved in all of the activities available, they adjusted well. The ones who focused on the next part of the process, continually asking, ‘How long? How long?’, struggled with depression, anxiety and often withdrew from available activities.

 One of the great things I learned working in that area was the importance of living in the moment and appreciating what is happening to you today, this moment. I know that emotions move in waves where at times they can threaten to overwhelm you with fear and grief; other times with elation and joy, and of course the transition and ‘normality’ in between. The last few days have been one of those negative peaks for me and now I have descended from the twisty mountains into Guachochi and on my way to Mazatlan on the coast, I will regain my usual positive outlook and importantly move into the next phase of my trip, the transition from the introduction to the body of this story.
 Amidst all of my self-reflection, there were some interesting sights along the way to Guachochi