Smashed Bananas from Chiapas to Quintana Roo

Tally ho, incoming correspondence from the front lines of the Bobby Bicycle Brigade. Informing you on the angular dimensions of plantinus machicadus. 

Gallons of sweat left behind we pedaled up the mountains of Chiapas towards Tuxtla Gutiérrez. Unfortunately ((or fortunately) or ordinarily), Ernesto’s rear derailleur decided to go rogue and end itself in the back tire. So no more pedaling occurred that evening as we camped under an electrical tower. But! the road provides for the weary traveler in times of need and we hit up the cyclist support network on our phones and lo and behold there is a bike shop that could host us and help us in Tuxtla Gtz. The key is we had to get there. So an early morning start and few cramped hitch rides later we pushed and coasted the bikes to the F5 Bike Haven. 

They have a good thing going at this spot, a bike shop, a pizza place, and a bike advocacy office.

They were able to replace the part in no time, we took a boat ride through Cañón del Sumidero, smelled the sights n’ saw the smells. 

Afterwards we met with a darling family in the middle of nowhere who hosted us and fed us a ton of tortillas. With the kids we stayed up way past our bedtime playing music, dancing, and making up silly games n’ sounds. Our hearts and bellies full, we continued riding up the hills into the highlands of Chiapas, where most towns people speak Tzotzil and the colorful textiles are masterpieces of art. 

We happened upon a festival in a little town just North of San Cristobal. It was the day of rememberance for Saint Fatima. We shook our butts to the groove, winced at every firework, and got quite a few stares for being the only outsiders at the party. Finally we made it to San Cristobal where we saw an AMAZING theatre performance piece about the dangers of transgenic corn enacted by a contortionist clown. Um, our lives were then forever changed. Not to mention, the Colombian couple who created the set had gotten the idea while on a bicycle tour through Brazil as they peddled through endless fields of monocrop corn. This form of funny, lighthearted, and yet sincere political theatre was so radical we both decided to give up our day jobs and become clowns  just joking, we’re already funemployed BUT we are working on the clown part. 

We also went on a bike ride to Chamula with a homie who worked at a lavanderia and went in to a local church that has been excommunicated for their blending of local traditions with colonized traditions. The atmosphere was steeped in ritual and incense, thousands of candles waxed to the floor and bottles of Coca Cola and a local medicinal alcohol clanging alongside the soft clucking of ceremonial chickens being stroked. (No phones inside or they’ll get smashed)

We had a longer than expected stint in San Cristobal de las Casas, the highlight was the completion of our long awaited zine, Gear Grinder. We actually sold 5 copies to a radical bookstore! The downside however was some of the gnarliest stomach flu symptoms of the trip. Weakened and dazed we hopped on a bus into the jungle of Palenque where the heat lasted well into the night. We found a low key fire station that welcomed us to camp outside with them to avoid the heat. Still recuperating from illness we only pedaled to the next small town where again we were hosted by the firefighters. Now in the flatlands on the way out of the jungle of Chiapas we pedaled through vast farmland. We crossed large livestock fields and on the road we came across many dead carcasses and bones. We picked up a cow skull and horse skull that became the main talking point for the next week whenever we ran into people. We often told people we devoured the animals and kept their skulls as trophies. Some people laughed, others backed away slowly. 

Entering into Campeche we took a rural route through Mayan country/jungle where we stumbled upon German Mennonite towns that look like something out of the 1930s farm land. We arrived late into a tiny Mayan village named San Juan where the locals offered food and a place to stay after we played some songs and did some weird acrobatics. Adventure routes are always the ones that test your wits. On these bumpy back routes we developed a sense of humor as a sense of survival.

 Basketball courts, police/fire stations, and local playing fields, are the string of our newly woven home. We’ve begun introducing ourselves with music and acrobatics when crowds gather in small towns to see what is up with these weirdos on bikes. 

Long exhausting days on the saddle to make it to our next departure point gave us some of the gnarliest chafing of the trip to which we slathered a fair amount of vegetable oil on (not a recommendation). A hour or two away from reaching Cancun, fatigued and intrigued, we stopped at a gas station and the first home-slice we asked for a ride was like “oh hell yeah get in!!” (or something of that sort) So, much obliged, we loaded the steeds into the speed wagon and blasted off into the sunset to make it to the land of hotel resorts and our launching point to Cuba!!! We’re couchsurfing with a local lifeguard and finishing last minute errands before flying off to Cuba for the whole month of June. 

Here’s the video summary for Mayyyy:

https://youtu.be/UiqgE6N6dIo

Hit us up let us know what is going on in your life, any bumpy roads that have tested your wits? Anything that’s made you laugh inexplicably? We’ll see you on the other side of the Summer Solstice with tales of another land. 

Sandy Armpit hugs and salty snugs, 

Annina & Ernesto