So there we were walking down the street in Cholula after visiting the 2000-year-old pyramid. They're completely redoing all their streets so everything is completely torn up. But we noticed a different kind of pit in the middle of the street, with a woman working in it, which seemed strange. It turns out that all this street work is supervised by archaeologists, and they had discovered a whole house and a burial site underneath it. They invited us to come down into the pit and see their find - a grave with ceramic offerings from about 500 A.D., the "Classic" period of Mesoamerican cultures. So we got educated about real-life archeology right in the middle of the torn-up streets of Cholula!

(Cholula was founded about 620 B.C. and was a major center from about 100 A.D. clear up until the Conquest in the 16th century.)

Ya estamos en Cholula, Puebla, Mexico, muy cerca de la ciudad de Puebla. Cholula es la ciudad de donde el conquistador Hernán Cortés empezó el final de su asalto contra los Azteca en Tenochtitlán (la Ciudad de México de hoy). El pasó por el mismo paso que subimos nosotros, que ya es conocido como el Paso de Cortés.

En la semana pasada Nancy hizo un vuelo a Las Vegas, Nevada, Estados Unidos para una reunión con su familia, y se hace muy felíz verlos. Durante la semana Randy hizo un recorrido de Cholula a Xalapa, Veracruz, Veracruz, y a Tlacotalpan, una ciudad muy pequeña pero bonita en el sur del estado de Veracruz.

Mañana pensamos empezar el camino a Oaxaca, que debe durar mas or menos una semana.

Hay muchas fotos nuevas en la página de fotos o puedes verlos diréctamente en Flickr:

• Sur de Zacatecas
• La Ciudad de México y cerca

We've recently found out about Kiva.org, a website that arranges microloans (very small business loans) directly between first-world lenders and third-world borrowers. We've made our first loan (to farmer Samuel Amilla in Ecuador) and are pursuing an application to become "Kiva Fellows," essentially field communication volunteers for the organization. We're tremendously excited about the possibility and are filling out the application. We hope you'll take a look at their site and make your first loan too!

One part of the "Kiva Fellow" application calls for us to interview an small-business entrepreneur concerning their business and write a journal entry regarding it. Here's our interview with Gloria Hernandez Torres, who we met selling "molotes" at the door to the market in Cholula, Puebla, Mexico.

Gloria Hernándes Torres (56) has been selling molotes (a fried empanada of vegetables, cucumbers, cheese, and spices) in the same place in front of the market in Cholula for 33 years. Her niece Dulce (30) has been helping her with cooking and sales for the past year. She shares the sales spot and the business with her sister - Gloria does it two days per week, and her sister prepares and sells molotes three days per week.

The molotes sell for 9 pesos (about USD $0.81) each; the two seemed to be doing a brisk business at their little corner outside the market. Their profit varies from day to day, but they do not track it.

Gloria has been occupying this exact place outside the market for 33 years and is quite happy with what she's doing. She's not at all interested in changing or growing her business.

We did not get to far today but we saw a lot. First we visited the hugest tree I ever saw “El Arbol del Tule” 54 meters circumference and 45 meters high.

Second stop was the village of renowned weavings, Teotitlan. We stop by several shops and did get a couple of impressive demonstrations I saw a rug being woven for a doctor in Oaxaca which was huge, 9 feet by 20 feet and will take a month to weave at "Casa Santigago". I stopped by another old master weaver, Irene Jimenez Lazo and her family. Wonderful smaller rugs for around $70 dollars. If you get there her house and workshop is behind the main church. The church was built on an Aztec pyramid and some of the walls use the curved blocks from the old temple. We visited the artesian market next to the church. It is frustrating to see such wonderful craftsmanship and not be able to buy a thing. Both for me and the poor weaver. You can read about the weavers here. I bought a woven change purse for a dollar.

Just 5 miles down the rode we saw another amazing site that we would only see in Mexico. A mezcal distillery owned and operated by master Francisco Mateo Escobar. As we were riding down the rode we saw a group of men cutting up a huge centers of agave plants. We went over to investigate and ended up having a private tour of how mezcal (a kind of hard liquor) is produced: The three foot diameter pineapple of the agave plant is cut up, roasted in a deep pit, ground by a horse drawn stone into hair-like fibers which will be fermented in a huge wooden barrel, then cooked in a copper distiller. When it is close to perfection and 120 proof and the good stuff when poured bubbles will have white pearly bubbles floating on top.
We tasted the mezcal at different stages of development and then had a tasting sessions of nearly most of the 20 varieties of bottled Mezcal. Yum! Well, after that we rode to the closest town, carefully. Had lunch at 4:00 in the afternoon, found a hotel.and had a nice long nap. Bike touring is wonderful!

We don't see many billboards on the back highways of Mexico, but what we do see, every day, are the wonderful, colorful advertisements you see painted on the rock wall behind Nancy. They're all done by hand, but talented painters, who must be quite plentiful in Mexico, because there are *current* signs everywhere, for musical events, bullfights, all-star wrestling. During election seasons, there are lots of them for political candidates, too. We love to see the colorful art, and it's a pleasure when we see one of the painters. This one is for a musical extravaganza in a nearby town.

We started our day unusually early, the alarm clock rang at five in the morning. We were facing steep climbs in the southern mountains of Mexico in the state of Oaxaca state of Mexico. The total elevation would be determined on how far we could ride which was determined by varying factors. The steep grades with our heavy loads would test our muscle endurance, the amount of time on a saddle would test our butts, the heat of the day in southern Mexico in May would bear down on our helmet-covered heads cooking us under the afternoon sun. Would we be hit by a late afternoon torrential rain, and if this happened would we be a place with cover? All these thoughts raddled around my brain as I mounted my bike and started the days adventure.

The early morning is a great time to ride because of the muted morning colors that fill the surrounding landscape, This morning was especially wonderful because the red-colored soil that stretched all around us was lit up doubly with the rising morning sun. A mist hung above the rich farm lands as we rode the quite river valley road. This moment of bliss was interrupted as the awakening sun heating the morning mist and us with it.

At 10 miles out we stopped for breakfast of quesadillas and sandwiches called tortas. As we waited for breakfast, I adjusted my seat for today’s ride. Yesterday's ride of 4500 feet climb stressed my soft tissue so an adjustment was called for.

We rode almost all day along a ridge line, deep valleys to the left and massive valleys to the right. We would climb 500 feet and descend 400 feet, and repeat this over and over. Climbing and descending. All and all we climbed over 3600 feet for the days total. I was in awe, how a road can be built along a ridge for 40 miles and have view on the left and right. It was an incredible bike ride with the beautiful vistas of tropical Oaxacan plants scattered throughout the expansive terracotta-colored landscape, but at the same time it is the dry season, and the land waits patiently for the rain to come in earnest.

As I rode the long miles, I kept myself entertained by looking around at the sights which are so foreign to me yet spike my curiosity. Who lives in the Adobe brick houses with tin roofs which stood on every distant hill top? What was life like for lone Mixtec Indian who worked hunched over his plot of land, and woman hunched over the concrete basins washing the endless piles of clothes, or preparing the days food? Why was the goats and mules making those awful sounds of protest? I let my mind wander for most of the time except when traffic approached or the road side DOG gave chase to me in which I focus on patterns of approach and the need for evasive action. Cars are mostly predictable, but not always. If I see a single car, it can go around me. If there are a bunch of big vehicles such as buses or large trucks, I avoid them and get off the road.

Dogs are another thing all together. They are unpredictable. Some will just ignore us. Some will do their duty and bark at us. Some will put up a good show and chase us but will back off when we speak out load. GOOD MORNING PERRO! But some need their daily exercise and will chase us. Randy often rides ahead of me which stirs them up and they are ready by the time I come along. He tells them to go get me and leave him alone. I often see this dynamics from a distance and see how the dogs go after him and they will either chase him or back down. I am ready with my greeting or water bottle if needed. I greet them first and if this does not stop them I squirt my water bottle at them. Nothing stops a dog in the middle of a chase faster then a squirt of water in the face or if they are really persistent it will take two squirts to deter them. Today I got chased by dogs 3 times. One was by three dogs and another was a 5 dogs chase and another was a single dog. The greeting worked once for the single dog and the waterbottle trick worked on the multiple dog chase. I am glad that the dogs in Mexico are so submissive.

We stopped a couple of times along the road for a snack of baked goods, sodas, juices and fruits. Lucy Miscellaneous was a great stop along the ridge top. What I noticed about Lucy was she was old, curious and had 20 years of picture calendars pasted to her store walls. This was a nice stop offering us a half hour rest out of the sun and a few minutes into her life. The next stop was another 2 hours away at a top of the mountains. Five local fellows of Mixtec origin rested under the canopy of the road side fruit stand. We stopped for some fruit and a coke. Half of the gentlemen did not speak Spanish but spoke the native tongue of the Mixtec which they were to shy to share a word of when we asked how to say hello. The midde lady behind the counter spoke Spanish as well as one other gentleman. After they asked about our journey and we told them we had traveled from Canada in the last 9 monthsand rode eleven thousand kilometers, there was silence, complete silence for the next 15 minutes. Nobody moved, nobody talked, we all sat on the plastic chairs crowded under the small metal awning hiding from the afternoon high elevation sun, in silence. Um! We finished our snacks, said good-bye and rode another 5 kilometers to a rest area and had a couple hour nap on a concrete picnic table.

Upon awakening we could not figure out what we wanted to do. Go on or stay here for the night. It was four in the afternoon and still early but we had rode 5 hours and climbed 3500 feet and we where tired. We decided to ride on until we could re-supply our water and food and stop for the night when the place to spend the night presented itself. We never did find a place to camp until we reached the town of Telixtlanahuaca, Oaxaca were we found a hotel for the night.

As I soared down the mountains of Oaxaca, something special happened which reminded me of why I am doing this grand adventure. A hawk was gliding along the ridge top with me, paralleling me around 30 feet to the right, lifted in the air by the currents of the mountains. Our movement were synchronized. When the road curved to right, the hawked drifted to the right, when the road veered left and up, the bird flew left and up, as my speed increased or decreased the birds movements shadowed mine or mine hers. I felt like a bird. I was free. I was flying. I had worked all day long to be able to glide down the incredible mountains of Oaxaca along with my friend the hawk. I was a hawk and she was me.

All my questions and concerns I had in the early morning were answered by the time I rested my head on the hotel pillow that night. It was a good days ride and my head was full of the sights, sounds, senses upon my skin and my body was tired and ready to rest so we could do it again tomorrow.

Ya estamos (por fín) en el sur de México, a la costa de Oaxaca, en la ciudad de Juchitán. Hemos pasado casi cuatro meses y llevamos 4100 kilómetros en el país. Casi vamos a ser mexicanos. Hemos progresado mas despacio que habíamos pensado -- al principio pensamos que pasaríamos por todo México en tres meses, y ya todaviá estamos caminando después de cuatro. Pero ha sido maravilloso, y vamos a extrañar México much cuando pasamos a Guatemala. ¿Cómo vamos a vivir sin la rica comida de México, y la gente tan amigable?

Hay fotos nuevos en la página de fotos- o puedes cliquear aquí para aceso directo.

Today is June 9, 2007. One year ago and 7600 miles ago we started out from Inuvik, in far, far northwestern Canada, on our journey to the bottom of South America. We didn't know whether we'd be successful in crossing that first 500 miles of dirt road in the tundra of the far north. And now here we are in the mountains at the very bottom of Mexico. We passed through Canada's Yukon, part of Alaska, British Columbia, the states of Washington, Oregon, and California, then went home to Denver to sell our house and get our affairs in order. In late January we set out again from Phoenix, Arizona, and have traversed the entire center of Mexico. What an incredible journey! But what will come next? We're hoping to do some volunteer work in Guatemala, and we may spend several months there, setting out again in the late fall.

We hope to get to the bottom of South America - Ushuaia, Patagonia, Argentina, in February of 2009.

We've told you about the highways and our greatest risk in every country - the traffic. But many of you were most worried that we'd be abducted by drug-traffickers or thrown in prison by the "federales." And some have asked us why we weren't bringing a gun (Don't bring a gun to Mexico! You'll go straight to jail if it's discovered at a border crossing!).

In terms of our everyday experience, we have to tell you that Mexico seems to be the safest country we've traveled in on our trip so far. Our perceived level of risk both to person and property is lower than in either Canada or the United States. Nobody has bothered us or our stuff in any way.

Now we'll have to admit that we're not careless travelers and we keep our eyes on our things and don't leave our bikes unattended. We're experienced third-world travelers. And if somebody says an area is dangerous, we listen carefully and try to evaluate the risks. And we also have to admit that we aren't likely to be seen as good kidnapping subjects, since there's nobody to ask for a ransom. Most people here think our bikes are pretty cool, and pretty expensive by Mexican standards, but they don't seem to think we have all that much money (or we'd be going by car, right?) So maybe our risk level is lower because we're a small target. But I don't think so. I think Mexico is just a mighty calm, friendly place.

The other day I read the US State Department's advisory about Mexico. It could get you *really* scared! Basically, they say that you need to travel only on the toll road (the fancy interstate highway here) during the daytime, and with your windows rolled up. It's SCARY! And it contrasts so starkly with our experience. I'm sure that every incident they cite is true, but I think there's a lack of perspective. They're reporting "risk" in absolute terms - suggesting that you shouldn't take any risk. What they really should be doing is saying something like: "When you're in the subway in Mexico City you should take the same measures you would take in any metropolitan subway." Or "When you're driving on the highway and you see something that doesn't look right, you should be careful, like you would anywhere in the world." They just say "don't do this and don't do that" because it's so risky, without putting it in the context of our U.S. risk level. People get shot in our home city of Denver, and that's really bad. But we don't think about it at home. I believe that fewer people are murdered annually in a Mexican city the size of Denver,
but the State Department doesn't make that kind of comparison. They just make you fear and act as if you can manage risk by avoiding risky situations, rather than calculating and dealing with risk.

We're going to miss Mexico a lot. And we may have to learn a lot more about managing our security in Guatemala and Honduras. We'll see. But we have to tell you it sure feels like a friendly, safe place to us.