This post is a two parter, because Part 1 revolves around a sunrise, complete with coffee outside and a mammoth climb, and Part 2 shifts into a trip with Vaughn, a loose reckie of sorts for a route building project I’ve been mulling over. It’s one that involves less challenging terrain that I might normally gravitate towards, with the notion of creating a ride that will have an appeal to a larger cross section of cyclists… or would-be cyclists. After all, there’s no better way to see the world, and connect with hit, than from a saddle of a bicycle. And imagine getting more people experiencing this nook of the world on a bicycle and not in a car!

Anyway, back to Part 1.

Both Emma and I love to gaze up, coffee in hand, at the most prominent feature on the skyline, Cerro San Felipe, from the terrace of our apartment. At 3100m, it’s one of the higher points in the Sierra Norte, and quite honestly, it’s ever-wild to me that we can see it from our house, and not something I ever take for granted.

Cerro San Felipe, 3100m, as viewed from our terrace. I still can’t quite believe that I get to gaze upon this bucolic, calming view daily.

It’s also something I’ve grown to value all the more recently, in part because Oaxaca’s city roads have become ever busier. It’s feeling like the twin scourges of oversized SUVs and big pickup trucks are taking over the narrow thoroughfares of this already cramped city, which as a cyclist and a pedestrian, causes me much dismay, angst and frustration. Sitting on this terrace is one of the best ways I know of melting away these ill feelings into the ether, be it in the morning with a post ride coffee, or in the afternoon, with a face cup of mezcal…

It is what it is, and the best I can do is to keep cycling!

Coffee and face cups.

It’s a peak we know well. I’ve ridden there and back in a day with our friend Dhruba – see this post – and Emma has even hiked it with him too, a 21 mile/34km round trip!

So when Emma said: “You know, I’d like to ride up there sometime, camp, and have a ‘coffee outside’ from the top.”How could I say anything but 1/ “let’s do it” and 2/ “let’s do it in a couple of days!”

I duly put the word out with a few fellow touring cyclists I knew were in the city. Not only did Andy and Taylor join us for this undertaking, but Vaughn did too. In fact, the two of us were already planning a trip together, so we fashioned it into the first night of our three day tour. More on Vaughn and that bit of the ride in Part 2!

Huesos came too of course. He’s always game for a campout in the cool climes of the mountains, especially with a pack of riders. Team Huesos! Given how much statistical information we all appreciate and sometimes even rely on these days, I love the idea that Huesos no clue as to whether we’ll be gone for a day or a week. We do of course try and explain our plans to him, and sound him out for feedback. But he just wags his tail in a way that’s hard to tell if it’s the high pitched voices that we slip into when we talk to him, or the actual info we’re imparting to which he’s reacting – like the amount of climbing we’re proposing, or the distance, or the potential camp spots we’re brainstorming.

Pictured here is Vaughn, perhaps prepping Huesos for the ride. 1 night, 2 nights, a month? Huesos doesn’t care, he lives in the now. Bring it on! I suspect Sparky is hoping that if he stays still enough, no one will notice him and he might come along too.

First things first. Up and over Libramento, the largely traffic-free connector to Viguera and San Pablo Etla.

Then, it’s the steep bit to La Mesita…

Does it look as hot as it feels?

As mentioned, this is a ride we’ve done on a number of occasions as part of longer trips into the Sierra de Juárez, but never with the intention of camping, then hiking up to the Cruz de Peña for sunrise. A Sub 24O, with close to 1800m of climbing!

La Mesita, with its lookout and art instillations, is another good campout campout, especially if you don’t have 1800m of climbing in your legs. Huesos loves grass, and more specifically, to roll around in it. I’d love to take him to the UK. I think all those lawns would blow his mind.

As I always like to warn visiting bikepackers, the initial climb into this aspect of the sierras is the hottest and steepest part, so brace yourself. Grades ratchet up in a way that has you reaching for that extra gear, no matter how your bike is setup up. Shade is a rare commodity, especially as the dry season encroaches. But once you hit the little ramshackle centro ecoturistico of La Mesita – where 150 pesos garners entrance to the community owned forest and a camping fee – at least it becomes more tree covered.

However, it’s not until a zone called El Manzanal that you know it’s going to really get easier, because even if there’s a chunk of climbing still to go, the grade shallows and the forest roads delves in treeline, cooling down the ambient temperature almost immediately. Plus, there are a number of springs along the way, so there’s no need to worry about water scarcity.

Emma was on trailer duty for the climb. Huesos hops out and runs on the climb, but still, the Farfarer adds to the challenge.

Roll up those sleeves and unbutton that shirt, lads…

Up and up we pedalled, and up and up Huesos trotted, darting from one patch of shade to the next, in true Mexican dog style. Only the black flies really bothered us, and had Huesos gnawing on his magnificent tail. Otherwise we chatted, pushed, and pedalled our way up. Life on two wheels is good!

Emma and I had a spot in mind to camp, one that would position us well for a pre sunrise assault on the peak, specifically, to a cross that marks its highest point. Although it’s not such a long way to walk – 20 minutes or so – it’s long enough that it means leaving in the dark with headlamps, lest one misses the symbolism of seeing the actual sunrise, and have to start all over again the next day! It’s also long enough that it means setting evil alarm clocks, to a time that feels totally manageable the evening before, but somehow feels distinctly uncivil the morning of.

To take the edge off any potential irritation, coffee making apparatus was also brought with us, and once we got to the Cruz de la Peña, everyone got to work on their various contraptions in the soft hues of the pre sunrise light.

And gosh, what a sunrise it was! From the cross, you can (almost) see our house, and get a sense of place, taking in the main arms of Valles Centrales, disappearing as they do towards San Agustin Etla to one side, and Mitla on the other.

Oaxaca sure is looking big these days…

Coffee making apparatus at the ready, steady, go!

Phew, we made it in time!

Such a beautiful, rugged land.

Well worth the 1800m climb.

My current coffee cup choice, complete with Yeshe’s beautiful illustrations.

Huesos, you’re looking the wrong way!

Everyone gets some Huesos time.

Whether he likes it or not, sometimes….

Vaughn wasn’t smiling this much before his coffee.

Neither was Emma!

The hike down is like a botanical showcase for the Sierra Norte.

The hike itself is a real treat, as the ridge along which it ascends wicks up moisture from either side. It’s also along a migratory passage for birds, making it especially abundant with plantlife and seed dispersal, even by Oaxacan sierra standards.

An unhurried breakfast ensued.

A Tailfin convention. Is it obvious we all love these Bristol-designed bike bags?

It’s back to bed for Huesos.

Then, PJs off, he’s limbering up for the ride.

Ready to roll again.

Team Huesos!

Back at camp, more coffee was made and breakfast was consumed. Huesos either napped or chewed sticks, until we were ready to part ways.

Emma would take him back down the mountain with Andy and Taylor, whilst Vaughn and I were headed to Nuevo Zoquiapam for a Good Cop Bad Cop run-in and a night in a delightfully bohemian trout farm, complete with:

• pavos (peacocks)
• patos (ducks) and
• gatos (cats)!

But more on that in the next installment!

The Route

Thanks for reading. Any questions, fire away!