I was about 24 miles into my ride, having just finished a delightful long descent when I got to the town of La Campana. Lining the road into town was a group of about two dozen men and women (mostly men). They said that further ahead was another blockade, beyond which “things are ugly” and that I was certain to be stopped. I wasn’t being prevented from continuing on, but I was repeatedly and seriously told that “it would be better” if I left. So I did.
I used the 5 hours it took to climb back up that monster of a hill to reflect on what happened. I know other cyclists who have passed this way only days ago, so I kept second guessing my decision to turn back. What made it confusing was that there was still traffic on the road, including the little buses that go between Comitán and the border. But, what was not ambiguous was the fact that a group of adults took it upon themselves to tell me to leave. That has a definite “you’re not welcome” vibe, regardless of how safe it really may or may not be. I need to think about my plan B, but I’m not going to attempt today’s route again. I’m not interested in the anxiety I’d feel if I was allowed to pass and even less in climbing that heartbreak of a hill yet again if I wasn’t.
I had enough daylight to get all the way back to Comitán, but I didn’t want to go too far until I’d had a new plan. There are 3 hotels in La Trinitaria, one is closed, one is terrifying and this one is unattended
