Cycle Shorts: 1 Day of Your Trip: May Tettero - Baja Divide

What's it like to take a bike adventure on the Baja Divide? This week's mid-week episode features listener May Tettero sharing one day of doing just that with her son Sky.

Do you want to share what it was like for one day on your own bike adventure? To be featured in this mid-week series of Cycle Shorts simply send me an email and let me know all about one day of your trip. 

Transcript

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SPEAKER_00 0:25

Hello everyone, it's Bella Malloy here, host of Seek Travel Ride. Welcoming you to another midweek mini episode in our Cycle Shorts series. These episodes feature what it was like for one of our listeners during one day of their trip. Now, if you'd like to be featured during one of these episodes and share what it was like for you on your own bike adventure, simply send me an email to podcast at seektravelride.com and tell me all about one day of your trip. This week we are being transported to a day on the Baja Divide with May Totero, who took on this monumental trip with her son Sky. So without any further ado, let's listen to May sharing one day of her trip.

SPEAKER_01 1:14

Hello Bella. My name is May Totero, and I was born and raised in the Netherlands, and I've been living in Canada for many decades. I'm excited to tell you about one day of my bikepacking trip on the Baja Divide route in Mexico. So I woke up shortly before 5 a.m. and surveyed the damage. My tent was soaking wet, the inner tent, the floor, and it had pretty much collapsed on top of me. My downfilled sleeping bag was soggy in places, but thankfully I was still warm and had a fair amount of sleep despite the wind and rainstorm from the night before. I could hear my son, his name is Skye, lightly snoring in his tent and was glad that he was still sleeping. I am sixty years old and was quite tickled that Skye, who turned forty earlier this year, had invited me to do a bikepacking trip with him on the rugged and remote Baja Divide Trail on the Baja California Peninsula in Mexico. Skye's friends think I'm cute and cool to be taking these risks and exposing myself to a challenge like this difficult mountain biking route. But I'm really just making up for lost time. Forty years ago, when my friends were backpacking in Europe or tree planting in British Columbia or following the hippie trail to India, I dedicated myself, by choice, I will add, to starting a family and learning my profession. I was 19 years old and in my third year of university when Skye was born. All right, so back to my day. I urgently had to pee, so I searched for my headlamp and opened my tent. Once outside, feeling a bit stiff and creaky, I was met with a starry night on this isolated hilltop where we were camped. Sky was up soon after, and in the dark, with only the red light from our flashlights and some fading moonlight, we made coffee and oatmeal. These simple comforts mean so much when you're out in the middle of nowhere, chilly and damp. The sun was rising and almost peeking over a nearby hill when we were finally all packed up and eager to start our day's ride. Our destination for that day was this remote ranch called El Coyote. It is situated at about 3,000 feet of elevation in view of the Sierra San Pedro Martir Mountains, and it's a favorite landing place for bikepackers. It was only forty kilometers further on our route, and I was so looking forward to arriving there shortly after lunch, drying out my tents and my sleeping bag, and enjoying a leisurely afternoon. Mud started clinging to our tires as we walked through the grazing pasture. But once we were riding on the gravel road, it was like the bike was a manure spreader and clods of mud were flying around, landed on my face and against the back of my legs. Maybe we should go back to the last town. I suggested to Skye. With all that rain there could be peanut butter mud up ahead. Ah no, it will be all right, he tried to reassure me. But I was worried. We were in such a remote area, and more rain clouds were looming on the horizon. I hate to backtrack when I'm on a route, but what if we get stuck somewhere and the weather gets worse? But up ahead I saw a sky pumping his powerful legs a couple of times, and I knew that if I didn't hustle, he would be out of sight in no time. We descended to a small mountain village where we were able to stock up on drinking water. On the Baja Divide, most streams and rivers are dry, so we never knew when we would be able to find water. We rode through a narrow valley for about an hour and came to a stream that crossed our path. We checked out the likelihood of riding through it without getting our feet wet and decided it was important to keep our shoes and socks dry. So, carefully in bare feet, we waded through to the other side. We were completely alone in this landscape for hours and hours and hours. We crossed streams another fifteen more times that morning, and we completely gave up any hope of staying dry and ended up drenching our shoes, our wool socks, and also our sunblock leggings. We stopped for lunch, Skye cooked up delicious quesadillas complete with onion, tomato, avocado, salsa, and fine herbs. It was quite a treat to witness how my skills had transferred to my now adult child. After three decades of raising children, I was the one who got taken care of. After lunch, the valley widened and we climbed for quite a while a series of single track switchbacks up to a pass where there were two concrete block houses flanking each side of the path. A rancher, quite stocky and surly, was watching us go by. We were like hola buenos and he greeted us with a growling Buenos Dias. I think more to be polite than out of any sympathy for our crazy journey. The descent on the other side was really steep and muddy. The cattle's hoofs and the rain from the previous night had turned the soil into a soggy mess. By the time we got to the bottom, our tires had taken on more and more mud, like a snowball does with good packing snow. For the next twenty or so minutes, we struggled to clear our tires with sticks or flat stones, poking the dreaded peanut butter mud out of tight places so that our wheels could spin again. Sometimes we carried our bikes in order to make progress. We tried riding off the path, all to no avail. Our shoes instantly transformed to platform shoes from the 70s as they took on more and more mud with each step. Exhausted from this battle, I turned to Sky. I felt like saying, I told you so, but I didn't. But I did tell him the situation was hopeless and we needed a different strategy. So I begged him to walk back up that steep hill and ask the rancher to drive us the rest of the way to El Coyote. I knew he didn't want to do this, but I'm still his mother. So he buckled to my plea, turned around, and started trudging back up that steep hill. I turned back to the bikes, got to work, clearing mud from the chainring and cogs, the tires, the derail. Every little piece of mud was clinging to my fingers or my stick and had to be shaken off. A short time passed, Sky returned. Not in the farmer's truck. He explained that the farmer doesn't own a truck, and that the shiny SUV I had spotted out of the corner of my eye when we rode past was in fact a brand new Lexus. God only knows how that vehicle got up there. In any case, it was not a suitable vehicle for two muddy bikes and two filthy cyclists. We tried to keep moving forward, and that vile muck impeded our progress and wore us right out as we dragged our bikes through it. We still have twelve kilometers to go and three hours of daylight. If we don't make it to Al Coyote tonight, I'll have to sleep in your tent because mine is sopping wet, hoping to motivate Skye to come up with a solution. After a brief discussion, we decided to hide the bikes and hike the rest of the way with the hope that there would be a truck at Al Coyote that could bring us back to pick up the bikes. We quickly grabbed some snacks, our warm jackets, locked the bikes together, and clambered back up the ravine to the muddy path. We built some inukeshks and took a whole pile of photos to make sure that we would be able to find the bikes back again. We walked briskly well, as briskly as a person can walk after battling peanut butter mud. For about one and a half kilometers, the path seemed to be drying up. Then it became a bit more gravel than mud. We deliberated for a minute, then we burst out laughing because we had agreed to go back and get the bikes. The situation was so ridiculous. We just wasted almost an hour on this hiking plan. But it felt so good to unlock the bikes and be reunited with them. So I continued to push and lift and poke. The path improved, and we were able to ride again. The gears were shifting, the mud was flying, and the sun was sinking. We battled on, came upon severe erosion, steep climbs, and a long section of rocky, dried riverbed. It was almost dark, so we stopped to turn on our headlights. I could hear the coyotes howling close by. Just after 10 PM, we arrived at the ranch and several outside lights were on. The place was deserted except for a young woman with a camper van. The staff had gone home and there was not even a guard dog around. I was quite cold and hungry. We saw some cabins and rode up to them. They seemed to be unoccupied, and on the porch of the first one, I tried the door and to my delight it opened. I flipped the light switch and it was like I was Goldilocks from my kids' favorite fairy tale book. I was standing in a rustic cabin with three single wooden beds, each one perfectly made up with woolen blankets. This is perfect! We washed up, changed into something clean, made tea, and a simple meal. Then I crawled into the first bed and felt the weight of those heavy wool blankets. It was heaven to be in a warm and comfortable bed, to be able to relax completely. It was heaven to know that after all the ups and downs of our less than perfect family life, Sky and I could still enjoy each other and go on adventures together. I smiled because everything was just right. So that was one of our days, Bella and listeners. One day of a mother and son on the Baja Divide.

SPEAKER_00 14:13

Wow. All I could think of when this story came through, listeners, was how awesome it is for May and how her son Sky to be creating these amazing memories together. And going out on bike adventures through such amazing countryside. May I've not experienced peanut butter mud yet, but I have heard about it from a few guests, and it just sounds absolutely grim. Couple all that in with the different types of weather challenges you had, all those creek crossings alone as well would have been for a monumental day. And then getting to the point where you have to stop, maybe think about hiking back to the ramps, then turning back around. This does have everything, and I love that it ended with that beautiful Goldilocks moment of just curling yourself up in the bed there and just feeling nice and cocooned and just oh relaxed. Thank you so much for sharing your story. Now I'd like to give a special shout out to you awesome Sleek Travel Ride super fans who have continued to support the show and have bought me a coffee. All these virtual coffees go towards the running cost of the show, and I think the extra little bit that I love about them is reading your beautiful messages as well. This week we have Richard who says, just listen to your interview with Roxy and Tommy. What an inspiring couple. Their energy and excitement is infectious as you bring out the best of their experiences on such a wonderful journey. I'm loving listening to your interviews, keep them coming. Cheers, Richard. Thank you, Richard, and I'm glad that you've been crawling through the back catalogue there. Roxy and Tommy's journey was an indeed an epic one. It started in the French Alps and has ended with them now in Australia. They are settled there in Australia for a little while yet and on the west coast there, and they just started taking bike adventures again. Sebastian Poole, he says, inspiration has turned into action. I've done a couple of sub-24 hour overnight trips without spending on new bike specific gear and have had a great time. Thanks for the interesting and abundant weekly content. Well Sebastian, I'm so glad that you've drawn inspiration from the show and that you have taken time out to get these mini adventures in. It's something I've personally done a little bit more of this year, and I've really enjoyed just that hit of energy it's given me. It's like a mental reset and an energy boost to take these small trips. You get to condense quite a lot into one day and experience so much, and I'm sure with each one it's left you with thoughts of your next one as well. Thank you so much for supporting the show. Listeners, if you would like to support Seek Travel Ride as well, you can do so by hitting the buy me a coffee link in the show notes. Before I wrap things up, I also want to just have a nice shout out to Redshift Sports who have come on board as supporters of Seek Travel Ride. I've been enjoying using some of their gear, especially their suspension stem and kitchen sink handlebars. They have really made such a difference to my rides here in the Pyrenees. The jarring that I get through my wrists normally on our small little Pyrenean roads, they're just sort of nicely smoothed out. And it's been such a revelatory experience to see just how much more enjoyable some of these roads have now become. If you want to check out Redshift Sports, I have provided a link in the show notes, and once again, thanks to them for supporting this independent podcaster out. Until the next episode, I'm Bella Malloy. Thanks for listening.