Riding to Patagonia

Next stop was Real de Catorce, another Pueblo Magico. Located in the high desert mountains of north San Luis Potosi, it sits around 2800m (9000ft). Real grew out of the discovery of silver in 1772 but now, with the mine long abandoned, it's highly dependent on tourism, a clandestine portion of which are drug tourist looking for the region's famous peyote cactus that grows wild in the surrounding desert.

There are only two ways in and out of the Real. From the west via a mountain road, the last 4 miles of which was some of the toughest riding I've ever encountered. Time and neglect have upended the cobble stone road into a stretch of loose rock and dirt about as wide as a modern pickup. The difficulty in riding has less to do with the terrible and inconsistent road surface and more to do with the steep pitch in certain sections, with I would guess reaches 25* at times. On those stretches you cannot cut the throttle or the bike goes down. Sadly, I've no photos of this cajones test since any consideration of stopping to snap a pic was crowded out of my mind by the sheer terror and a internal chant, "Focus, 1.21GW, focus."

The east access road is a 2-mile one-way tunnel directly through the mountain that opens up into 17 miles of back beating cobble stones, more intact and much safer than the west road but going on seeming forever. Below is the view coming out of the tunnel as well as of the road surface. In the first two pictures you can see white clouds below in the distance, which eventually must be descended through as you ride down to near sea level.

The main attraction of Real de Catorce is the abandoned silver mine. For 200MXN (~$10) a guide took me up via horseback. Pedro was born and raised in Real, and his father worked the mine before it was shut down. Before we left town it became obvious that my shaggy mount had reached the end of his cup of tolerance in life and was passive aggressively cutting corners and walking so close to parked cars so as to clip my knees against the walls and sideview mirrors. On the trail up, he walked so dangerously close to the edge of the cliff that I could feel him shuffling to keep balanced. Standard reins commands were ignored. Halfway up, our horse panting profusely and slowing to a snail's pace, my local guide said "Amigo, estos caballos son buenos, no?". I think mine was suicidal. Nevertheless, I'm sure my horse was happy to have me off his back for the 30 minutes we spent exploring the mine ruins.

Gracias, Pedro. Now go give those horses a day off!