How Do You Think About Risk?
I’ve been following the news about Mexico’s election because we spent a month in San Miguel last January and plan to do the same in January 2025 and 2026.
It’s exciting that Mexico has chosen its first woman President, Claudia Sheinbaum. However, part of this good news story is the unprecedented number of candidates murdered this campaign season by criminal groups. (source)
When Rebecca and I decided last year to try warm Mexico during a cold Iowa month, we first considered the risk of cartel violence. America’s State Department offers a helpful advisory site with danger levels, from “do not travel” to “exercise normal caution.”
San Miguel de Allende is in Guanajuato State, just northeast of Mexico City. The State Department assigned the second danger level, “reconsider travel” to Guanajuato, because of crime and kidnapping. (source)
We have two friends, Peter and Mary, who have spent winters in San Miguel for twenty years. They confirmed what we had learned from our research: San Miguel is a safe city, with their only caution to arrive at the closest airport in Leon with time to travel during daylight.
Ironically, as I wrote here, we grew to love San Miguel because of its peacefulness. Still, the upward trend in violence in Mexico in 2024 got our attention.
So, we’ve been thinking:
Should we “reconsider?”
A Highway Couple
I love the backpack photo of Rebecca and me because it metaphorically represents what we’ve been doing since we met 13 years ago at age 60.
Rebecca lives in Clarinda, Iowa, the lower left in this photo. I live in Decorah, the upper right. We’ve kept our houses and live together in both places, 332 miles apart.
We promised not to take the other out of their home. That promise was made long ago, and now we feel part of two communities, with friends and routines.
Meet Rebecca’s home.
And mine.
As we’ve been thinking about the “risk” of Mexico, I’ve thought about other dangers that don’t grab headlines. For us, there is one constant.
We’ve driven to and from our homes once a month for thirteen years.
332 X 12 = 3 984 miles a year.
3984 X 13 = 51,792 total miles.
During that period, our state of Iowa averaged around 330 traffic fatalities yearly. So, over 13 years, there have been 4,290 highway deaths. (source)
The passenger car is, by far, the riskiest form of transportation. (source)
When we travel to Mexico next January, we plan to drive six hours from one of our homes to St. Louis, where Rebecca’s son lives. We’ll leave the car in his garage for the month and fly to Mexico’s Leon Airport, where we will board a passenger van for the hour-long ride to San Miguel. One month later, we’ll reverse all of this.
If we worry, it will be about criminal carjacking or airline travel.
Not what routine has hidden from us.
How do you think about risk?
This morning, I’m writing from our Decorah home.
Yesterday, we drove 156 miles to Decorah from Perry, Iowa, where, along with 11 other Clarinda couples, we spent three days biking, eating, and socializing.
You can see our group below as we posed on the High Trestle Trail Bridge, 130 feet over the Des Moines River. Rebecca is in black, and I’m off her right shoulder, worried about being so high off the ground.
Our group’s age range is 70 to 80. Of course, we ate and drank too much over our time together, including an ice cream break each mid-afternoon.
Plus, each couple drove roughly 300 miles for this adventure. As far as I know, each returned home safely.
How do you evaluate the inevitable risks in your life? Are some more prominent than others?
Over the last year, every person we’ve talked to about our Mexico plans has mentioned cartel violence. No one said a word about unremarkable but deadlier highway travel to airports.
Here’s another interesting fact. Last year, Rebecca and I spent a week in Houston before we flew to Mexico. Statistically, we were more likely to be murdered in Houston than in San Miguel, Mexico. (source)
The same is true for St. Louis, our departure location for January 2025.
So, next January, as we are basking in the sun on a patio on our first evening in San Miguel, with our stomachs full of chips, salsa, refried beans, and Mexican beer, we will think back over the treacherous journey to this beautiful and RELATIVELY safe destination.
After all, only the dead are risk-free.
Here’s another travel story by Trisha Faye.
Here’s the San Miguel story link if you missed it above.
More stories by me.
