Short Stories
Entry No. 27   October 15, 2004


We had gotten a late start from San Ignacio, the oasis in the middle of the desert. We had about 50 miles to Santa Rosalia and we didn't leave until 2 pm. As usual, I believed that the road was all downhill, per the Internet cafe employee who has never touched a bike in his life. After 4 months of falsities regarding road terrain, I still believe people, especially when they tell me it will be all downhill. It never is.

Hence, it was a tougher trek from San Ignacio than predicted and it was hot. We went through water like it was beer at a wedding you traveled across the country, rented a room, and bought a gift for and wanted to get your money's worth. As the vado infierno(1) was fast approaching, we decided to stop and fill up on water.

As we pulled into one of the many very isolated mini market/restaurant you can find randomly here in Mexico, a group of people were just walking out. We had gotten a few questions about our bikes and where we were headed. The dialog was great until this one older man just kind of started laughing and walking away, just as I was in the middle of telling them about
the campaign.

Now I know laughs. As well, I have come to know beeps. I can easily tell a you rock beep from a get out of my way beep and a you scared me beep. It kind of irked me because the laugh was definitely one of you'll never make it not even in your dreams laugh. I kind of just looked at him and continued talking to the woman. I told her my website and gave her some pencils hoping that I was one short and that jerk wouldn't get one. She then went to join the others in their big SUV. At least they were carpooling.

Still thinking about that encounter, I started talking to another patron at the restaurant. He shook his head and said "Los politicos".

As Matt and I continued on, I thought more and more about what I would have liked to have said to this jerk that laughed at me. To start, I'd say how sorry I felt for the community that he was "serving", that he is the "leader" of. When the community comes to him and tells him they have a dream or goal they want to accomplish, does he laugh at them too? When his children confide in him and tell him what they want to be and do in life, does he make fun of them and laugh as if to say not in your dreams?

How ignorant. How sooo political. It angered me so much that this close-minded, "what's in it for me" fool was leading some good community into further poverty and self destruction.

Matt said I averaged 16 miles per hour for a good 45 minutes after that.
(then I just got too tired)

Poli = many; tics = blood sucking creatures


(1) Vado infierno (ford of hell) is a deep cut in a canyon where the road winds and twists down almost to sea level along a cliff on the way to the coast to get to Santa Rosalia. I have to say it's pretty steep.

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