From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

We know this is a long article, but we wanted to share it all with you

Bald-faced corruption (by Sébastien)

In Baja California we ran into a lot of military road blocks, and now since Oaxaca, they're back. About every 30km we pass of road block by either the federal police or the army. We'd never had any problems – we just bike right on through and no one had tried to stop us. It's not so easy for the cars though, and especially those that are driven by foreigners.

A couple of days ago, we were eating lunch at a taqueria next to one of these road blocks, and we got to see how they really work. Sometimes the soldiers would search the entire vehicle. And twice, to speed things along, we saw the people hand over some of what they were transporting. The first time it was two big bags of peanuts, and the second time it was two brand new shirts, price tags still attached, that the soldiers had carefully picked out. It doesn't seem like much, but that was only what was the most obvious...

In Mexico, corruption is ubiquitous. No level of social interactions is immune. According to everyone that we've met here, it always helps to hand over a little something in order to get what you want. Officially, the President denies that it’s a problem, but we've even seen TV ad campaigns trying to prevent corruption.

Note: the road blockades are there to prevent drug and small arms trafficking. What surprises us though, is that the blockades are often only in one direction – from South to North. The drugs are coming up from Columbia or Venezuela and going through Central America to get to the US.

Central America (by Sébastien)

Even though we haven't crossed the border out of Mexico, we're already in Central America! Geographically speaking, it is the Isthmus of Tehuantepec that separates North America from Central America. Along the land bridge we passed through groves of mango trees with their sweet fruits hanging from the branches.

We know – and many people have reminded us – that the countries of Central America are much poorer than Mexico and they are sometimes politically precarious and susceptible to upheaval.

That is the case for Guatemala, which we will soon cross into. Violence and insecurity have been on the rise for the past couple of months. Nobody really seems to be talking about it, even though several regions in the country are classified as dangerous by the Ministries of foreign affairs in quite a few countries. In Mexico, Patrice already warned us about the country. Réal, a Québecois that we met a little while back and who had been in Guatemala, confirmed the rumors. We've also been reading the blog of two women from Switzerland who are biking through Central America, and we were dismayed to read that they had been robbed near Lake Atitlan in Guatemala, and everything was stolen except their bikes. We've said it before: our itinerary is subject to change depending on the political situation of the countries.

We've decided: we're going to take the bus from San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico, to Quezaltenango, Guatemala. It's a less risky and much faster way to cross the dangerous border area between Mexico and Guatemala. The area is dangerous because of the drug traffickers and the migrants leaving Central America for Mexico or the United States. In brief, those people are generally desperate to cross the border and they often have to pay smugglers to get themselves across. And without any money, they will rob anyone going by.

This is neither the first nor the last crossing that worries us. We knew there were risks when we went through Tijuana three months ago. We found out that the day after we had gone through that there had been a shoot-out and 20 police officers had been killed. After that, the army took over the city. The army has a much stronger presence in Mexico than in Guatemala, which might explain why it is safer here.

Once we reach Quezaltenango, we'll get back on the bikes and cross Southern Guatemala. It seems safer and we also avoid the capital city and the region around Lake Atitlan.

Numbers that make your head spin (by Sara and Sébastien)

3 countries, 8 months, only 1 flat tire, and 10,000 km!!

We did it – and it was an emotional moment!!!

Do you know Mr. Chkoumoune?* (by Sara)

Mr. Chkoumoune began his day by dropping Sara's t-shirt on the well-greased bike chain.

Later in the day, while taking a break, he went to get water because in the country where he is right now you can't drink the tap water. He thinks that a 2 liter bottle is a good way to deal with the situation, and besides this particular bottle seems a little cleaner than the other options. When he opens, however, there's a surprise:  Pchchchchhchittt! It was sparking water. Not the greatest for biking – it tends to explode all over the place.

Passing through pretty country side, there's someone working in the field, and Mr. Chkoumpune wants to take a picture. He tries to open the bag attached to the handlebars and he breaks a nail.

In the evening, he stubs his toe on the bed, even though he's wearing sandals. Ouch, it hurts! And when he stands back up, he bangs his head on the shelves.

The next morning, he wakes up well rested and in a good mood, thinking that maybe today he'll get to be Mr. Good Luck. He tries to move Sara's bike, but it gets stuck on the corner of the bed. He gets annoyed, and.... spprrrriinnggg! One broken spoke and another bent.

And the morale of the story? Mr. Chkoumoune is Sébastien, but you probably guessed that already. And of course we love Mr. Chkoumoune, but we would rather he didn't join us too regularly on our trip.

*Chkoumoune: bad luck, ill-favoured, when everything goes wrong

Chiapas: with open arms and open hearts (by Sara)

We've met many people since arriving in Chiapas.

It all started when we stopped to buy some cold drinks. There were two men on the patio, each with about a dozen empty beer cans in front of them. I went up to them thinking that they were the managers of the little “restaurant.” But they called the manager. His supplies were low, and he had only 2 bottles of pop left. As I was about to pay for them, one of the men with the beer said that he insisted on buying them for us, which he did. Then he followed me back towards Sébastien  and offered to buy us lunch. We were hungry, but it had already been a long and tiring day and we still had 30 km to go, most of it uphill. Still, we took him up on his offer, it seemed he really wanted to buy us a meal. And so we were served the only thing the “restaurant” had on offer: a soup with pieces of chicken and tortillas. Yum.

We continued on our way and came up to a sanitary checkpoint. The head of the station flagged us down, even though there was no one at the checkpoint and we thought we could just pass right through. We were worried he was about to make us open our bags, and we had 2 tomatoes, an avocado, some cheese, an orange and some mangoes – not normally things they let through. But actually, he just wanted to talk with us and he invited the whole station to come over. The questions came fast and furious, but we were able to understand and explain ourselves in Spanish pretty well.

Later that same day we stopped at a gas station to get water. Just beside us was a family squished into a little car. There was the mother who was nursing a baby, a little girl about 3 or 4 years old, the grandmother, and the husband who was driving. He asked us where we were going, and we were only 5 km away by then. I told him that, and he was so happy for us. He went in to get some drinks and he came back with two lollipops for us, welcoming us to Mexico and wishing us “bon voyage”. It was like he knew we were almost finished one of the longest days we'd done since Anchorage.

And for our last break, we stopped at another gas station (here all the gas stations have little stores beside them). We talked a bit with the manager there who was curious about our rides: he didn't know whether they were bikes or motorcycles. Sébastien picked up a big bottle of lemon-flavored water, but he refused to let us pay for it. He said it was his contribution to our trip!

We finally arrived at Tuxtla Gutierrez, the capital of Chiapas. We were supposed to phone Gabriel, our host for three nights, but we didn’t know exactly which numbers to dial. There's a long distance code that you dial if you're not in the same region, but if it is a cell phone then you have to add 045 at the beginning plus the state code (but for a land line you don't change anything). A bit confusing. So we stood in the telephone booth, but we couldn’t get through. I asked a man beside us for help, but he wasn’t not sure either which numbers to dial, so he went to ask a friend for advice. He came back and dialed a number on his cell phone, and introduced us to Gabriel as two Americans (since here, if you're not Mexican and you're traveling through, you must be American) and handed us the phone.

Since we got to Chiapas, it feels like a whole different country: the people are warm, friendly, welcoming, and come up to us to ask about our trip and give us a hand if we need it. They buy us drinks and food, which is sometimes a bit awkward, but we've never been able to refuse their offers since it seems to come from such a good place.

The Transjurassienne of 2009 (by Sébastien)

I wasn’t able to be at the starting line of the Transjurassienne this year, [Trans. note: an annual internationally renowned cross-country ski race that takes place in the Jura, where Sébastien is from] but we did our own little “transju”! Sunday was one of the most – if not the most – difficult days since Anchorage. We biked more than 80km in 6 hours 40 minutes, with a head wind, temperatures of more than 25°C, and going up a total of 1600m in altitude.

And we didn’t take it easy the next day, we were back at work. Another 80km in the heat and up and down the hills.

Let me tell you – with our bikes fully loaded, what we did Sunday was just like doing a Transjurassienne or maybe a Marmotte [Trans. note: a biking race in the French Alpes].

Coming Up for Us (by Sara)

We’re in Tuxtla Gutierrez now, the capital of Chiapas, for the last leg of the Mexican part of our trip.

We will start off by visiting the city, and we need to find a bike shop to fix Sara’s wheel – it managed to travel 160km along roads pitted with pot holes with one broken spoke and another bent.

We’re also hoping to visit at least one Microfinance Institutions, since there are seven here.

Then, we’re taking a couple of days off, outside the aegis of the Association Planète Durable et Solidaire. Heather, a friend of Sara’s (and English translator of this blog) is arriving Friday to spent 8 days with us. We will put the bikes to bed while we travel around the Yucatan Pennisula in a rental car.

After out touristy excursion, we will take the bus from San Cristobel de Las Casas to Quezaltenango, the second biggest city in Guatemala, in order to avoid the area defined by the Foreign Affairs Ministry as “dangerous”.

Sébastien