Mexican Highway 40 has been totally rebuilt complete with many bridges, guardrails, tunnels and tollbooths. It crosses the Sierra Madre and offers extraordinary views. The old highway over the mountains was a twisty, curvy nightmare with large truck-trailer combos too long to make the tight curves, threatening the lives of everyone coming the other way. I had driven it more than once eastward, from Mazatlán to Durango and been a passenger going westward one time. Each time was frightening; steep hills, tight curves, large potholes, no shoulders, no fog lines, no lane demarcations. Every bad thing you can imagine about a road, it had them, even banditos, apparently. And not one regulation gas station. I say regulation, because there were pirates selling supplies out of jerry cans in places and we partook once, I ran out of gas in Mexico, in the desolate northern desert, long ago when it was easy to do. Now you can pass a Pemex and not curse yourself.
The new highway is an engineering marvel. However, it is only five or six years old and already deteriorating, badly. Lots of ongoing reconstruction here and there.
In any case, we made it to Zacatecas and have a day to poke around before heading for San Miguel de Allende. More soon.
