Riding Through Mexico: 500 Miles of Discovery

When I first imagined pedaling through Mexico, I envisioned a journey filled with the raw beauty of the land, the warmth of its people, and a challenge that would test my physical and mental boundaries. This ride wasn’t just about the miles or the scenery—it was a chance to immerse myself in the heartbeat of Mexico and reconnect with the essence of adventure that comes with exploring a place so deeply. My goal was to ride from Mazatlán to Mexico City, cutting through the mountainous spine of the Sierra Madre and threading my way through valleys and cultural pockets.

A month ago, I stood on the Pacific coast in Mazatlán, Sinaloa, preparing to embark on the Trans-Mexico Norte Bikepacking Route. Designed as a 3,500-kilometer odyssey, this route showcases Mexico’s diverse geography and culture. I planned to tackle the Norte segment, covering over 1,000 miles. As I stood there listening to the waves crash and the sounds of the city, I felt equal parts excitement and trepidation. I knew the journey would demand flexibility—and like all great adventures, it did not disappoint.

In the end, I completed 500 miles of my planned route. Along the way, I faced unexpected challenges, savored moments of pure joy, and walked away transformed by the experience. Below, I’ll share the highs, lows, and everything in between.

Overall Impressions

The trip was transformational in ways only solo travel through a foreign country can be. Spending weeks riding through Mexico gave me a unique window into its rich culture and breathtaking landscapes.

The riding was incredible. Sure, there were stretches of highway that weren’t ideal, but when I hit the dirt, the experience was unparalleled. Some sections, like the smooth, fast two-track in Durango, were exhilarating, while the rocky descents outside of Guanajuato tested my skills and endurance.

Camping, however, was a mixed bag. The strategy in Mexico is to stealth camp—waiting until dusk to find a discreet, hidden spot. Most nights, I ended up within earshot of houses or people, which made for some uneasy moments. Fortunately, hotels were plentiful and affordable, so I didn’t have to camp every night.

The best part of the trip was immersing myself in the culture. I loved noticing the regional differences—the rugged, Western-inspired vibe in Durango versus the vibrant, indigenous influences in Michoacán. These nuances made every mile worthwhile.

Most Memorable Day

Day 3 stands out as my most memorable day, as I conquered the Espinazo del Diablo, or "Devil’s Spine." It’s a legendary mountain pass, and after a grueling first couple of days, topping out on this section of the Sierra Madre felt like a triumph. The panoramic views of the mountains were otherworldly, rewarding every ounce of effort.

That day had everything—a tough but rewarding climb, a serene walk through a geological park filled with strange rock formations, and some of the best two-track riding I encountered on the trip. My campsite that night was tucked away in a peaceful pine grove, a perfect ending to an unforgettable day.

Toughest Day

Day 2 was the toughest. After a restless night in Copala’s plaza (a word to the wise—plaza camping is a gamble), I began a steep climb toward El Palmito. I miscalculated my water supply and quickly found myself dehydrated and battling severe leg cramps. Every pedal stroke felt like a Herculean effort, and even walking my bike became a struggle.

To top it off, I heard gunfire as I approached the town. When I arrived, soldiers were stationed on the road, their weapons aimed at something out of sight. They waved me through, and I entered what felt like a ghost town. A local assured me it was safe but advised me to keep a low profile. The only hotel in town had limited food, but after such an exhausting day, even the simplest meal felt like a feast.

Best Riding Day

It’s hard to choose, but two days stand out.

First, the two-track outside of Durango was a dream. Quiet, flowy, and scenic, it had a playful, mountain bike-like feel that kept me smiling the entire day.

Second, the day I left Mezquital was special for a different reason. I started riding a couple of hours before sunrise, my favorite time of day. The highway climb out of the valley was tranquil and uplifting, and the early morning light made everything feel magical.

Of course, I can’t forget topping out on the Espinazo del Diablo. After climbing nearly 20,000 feet to get there, the sense of accomplishment and the views of the Sierra Madre made it one of the most satisfying moments of the trip.

What Were Some of Your Challenges?

One of my first challenges was the sheer physicality of the route. The 100+ mile climb with over 20,000 feet of elevation gain at the beginning of the trip set the tone. I trained enough to avoid complete misery, but those three days to the top of the Sierra Madre were relentless. What a way to start a trip!

The next hurdle came after I reached Durango. Locals offered conflicting advice on traveling through the state of Zacatecas: some assured me it was safe to ride during the day, while others strongly advised skipping the region altogether. After consulting with a friend whose family is from the area, I made the tough decision to bypass Zacatecas by bus and resume the route in Aguascalientes.

Another significant challenge was loneliness. I love solo rides for the solitude and opportunity to reflect, but this trip reminded me of the promise I made after riding the Baja Divide: no more big solo trips. Without a companion, the journey sometimes felt isolating, even amidst the beauty of Mexico’s landscapes.

My Spanish skills—or lack thereof—presented their own challenges. I could get by with survival Spanish for directions, food, and simple interactions, but I missed out on deeper conversations that would have allowed me to better connect with locals and their stories.

Finally, my bike suffered a cascade of mechanical failures during the trip’s last 48 hours. My freehub began seizing, my chain broke, and I used my only spare quick link, and my bottom bracket started crunching with every pedal stroke. These issues forced me to make a difficult decision: risk continuing into a remote section of the route or cut my ride short. Abiding by my principles of risk management and problem-solving, I chose the safer option. I boarded a bus to Mexico City to repair my bike and reflect on the journey.

Reflecting on the Finish

After 500 miles, I didn’t reach my original goal of riding into Mexico City. Instead, I made the difficult but necessary choice to board a bus and end my ride early. While it wasn’t the conclusion I envisioned, it felt right.

Traveling to Mexico City gave me a chance to fix my bike and immerse myself in urban life—a stark but welcome contrast to the remote dirt roads I’d been riding. I traded campsites for a warm bed and simple meals for street tacos.

This trip taught me that plans are just a framework; the real adventure lies in adapting to whatever comes your way. Though I didn’t complete the route as intended, the 500 miles I did ride were full of lessons, challenges, and unforgettable moments.

Would I recommend the Trans-Mexico Norte? Absolutely. But come prepared for the unexpected—it’s all part of the journey.