JourneyRider

It is raining bad luck in Panama. (11/12-11/17/07)

So far I have managed to wash my ipod, drop my camera card into the Panama Canal, and waste 2 days driving aimlessly in search of transportation to Columbia. On a more positive note, I have been couchsurfing with a couple of very nice guys, Rafael and his brother Angel in Panama City. They live very modestly, but have one of the best views from their apartment in Casco Viejo (historical area). Here is a picture of what I have been using to take showers for the last few days. There is a shower here, but the water pressure is too low to take a shower and for most of the day the water does not work.

Earlier in the week I met up with Wayne and his friend Mike and we drove to the East coast together. The road was very backed up to Colon and we were forced to do a massive amount of lane splitting and shoulder driving. This was very fun, but dangerous at the same time because the shoulder was full of pot holes and lose gravel.

Wayne and Mike arranged sailboat transportation for an all inclusive price of $550 each. I decided that I could find a better deal than this. We split up 30 miles West of Colon as they drove South to Portobello and I drove East to Colon to try and find cheap trasportation. My guidebook gives a warning saying that you should avoid going to Colon because you could be mugged in broad day light. My god was this warning right! If you have ever seen Blackhawk Down, Colon looks just like Mogadishu in this movie. Every building looks like it is on the verge of collapse but people still live there (most of the buildings were constructed by the French and the U.S. when the Canal was being built from 1900-1920). The streets are full of garbage and uncovered manholes (saw a guy prying one up so he could make a few backs recycling it). The people here look like they have been through a lot. Every third guy I saw on the street looked like he was ready to rob me (I left my helmet on most of the time as I walked into stores). After finding out that there were no boats to Columbia until next week I hightailed it back to Panama City.

   

Meeting up with a couple fellow Canucks and riding Costa Rica! (11/09-11/11/07)

Just as I start to leave Manauga for Costa Rica I see a fully packed red KLR (Kawasaki 650cc) sitting in the parking lot of an internet cafe. I immediately investigate and meet Ryan, a 26 year old from Toronto who was on his commute to Malpais, Costa Rica to work with sea turtles. Ryan and I ride together for 2 days and explore Costa Rica. We tried to go to the Monte Verde rainforest, but the rain made an already treacherous road down right unbearable. We both fell a couple of times and than decided that we had had enough.

On the third day, Ryan and I split ways because he was headed East and I was heading South to meet up with Wayne, a 58 year old from British Columbia (I found out Wayne was doing the trip at horizonsunlimited.com). Wayne is a nice easy going guy just like Ryan. Despite my long delays in putting on ear plugs, finding my keys, and packing my ghetto load Wayne had been paitent with me. He also rides a red KLR like Ryan´s (do resident Canucks only have one choice in dual sports).Like Ryan, Wayne is always worried about running out of fuel. KLR guys are very conscious about having atleast a half tank at all times even know their tanks are twice the size of mine.

We are meeting up with Wayne´s current riding buddy Mike in Panama City. Apparently Mike is only 21, but is paying for this trip with money he made from his blogging site. Mike drives an F650 cs so I may be tempted to un-bolt his parts and swap them for my bent ones (just kidding Mike).

Hanging out with Salvador in Nicarauga! (11/05-11/08/07)

I pulled up to the Honduran/Nicaraugan border knowing that they would give me trouble for not having my permit. I told the officical my robbery story and showed him my missing sidecase, but he wouldn´t budge about buying another $40 Honduran entry permit so I could exit the country. I slipped pass his gate when he left it open for a big truck and was off to Nicaragua where customs was easy.

After 5 hours of driving through more dirt than paved roads I made it to Manauga. Here, an adventurerider.com member Salavador (aka: salcar) kindly agreed to host me. He gave me an air filter to replace the one I had to spend a day fixing in Honduras because the foam gasket ripped and 2 paper tabs ripped off. In addition, he let me use his tools, fed me, let me stay in his guest room, and gave me the idea for and helped me create this website.

Salvador is setting up his own motorcycle tour/rental company in Nicarauga. I just wanted to say that he is a great rider and knows the roads very well for those who are interested. He is also a good host and is very down to earth. 

Seeing El Salvdor and returning to Honduras illegally (11/04-11/05/07)

Because of poor intitial planning I ended up having to back track in order to see El Salvador. I drove west from Teciugalpa to the capital of El Salvador, San Salvador. I was surprised to see how well off El Salvdor is for a Central American country. The roads were great, the store lines were short, and the houses were beautiful.

I took the coastal route to return to Honduras and like the first time (when I first entered Honduras I was cheated into having to hire a guide along with transporting him on the backseat of my fully packed motorcycle :uncomfortable:), entering Honduras was nothing but trouble. I soon realized that my border runner for entering  El Salvador did not file the right form to get my Honduran motorcycle permit back, despite me telling him (it was really my fault for not noticing it).

The customs agents told me I had to buy another one for $45. That would bring my Honduran border costs up to $125! Out of principle there was no I was paying this fee! I drove up to the border guards and convinced them that I was robbed in El Salvador and that the robbers made off with all my permits. After explaining this story numerous times and continuous begging the guards let me go after making it clear that I would be thrown in jail if I was pulled over.

My stay in Teciugalpa, Honduras with my couchsuring friend Allan (10/30-11/03/07)

Making my way from Puerto Barrios, Guatemala to Teciugalpa, Honduras without a kickstand was very tricky. I was forced to balance the bike while getting off of it and than lift the fully weighted down bike onto its centerstand. After finally making it to Tegus (Teciugalpa) a very nice doctor at a gas station spoke to me in English and let me use his cell phone to call a guy named Allan from couchsurfing.com who agreed to host me. I was surprised to be greeted by Allan's australian accemt on the phone. He agreed to come meet me at the gas station where I was.

I met Allan and a couple of his friends and followed them back to Allan's parents house. Allan had a very nice house and both his parents and him were very welcoming. Allan took me out the first night to a bar where I tried some new beers and met some American girls. The next night we went to his girlfriends birthday party where I was surprised to find a majority of English speakers.

On the third day we went to have my kickstand fixed at the local hack job mechanics shop. He fixed the stand by cutting a V shape out of the bar and than bending it so it touched the ground. The problem was that he forgot to weld where he made the bend and when we got back the stand bent back to its old position. I returned an hour later with Allan's German Exchange friend Lucast who explained the problem. The mechanic than took his battery charger, which he used for TIG welding! and used a piece of glass about 1 inch wide and 3 inches long for eye protection!

For the last night we hung out at Allan's house and had a quiet night. In the morning Allan's dad, Lucast and Allan escorted me (I was riding my motorcycle) to the turnoff for El Amatillo, El Salvador.

Memos: the Evil Sea Captain (10/29/07)

If you ever run into a boat captain named ¨Memos¨ quickly turn the other way. I rode my motorcycle from Belize City to Punta Gordo to catch the ferry from the South of Belize to the bottom of Guatemala at Puerto Barrios. There are two captains who make this short journey accross the Atlantic. The legitimate captain is named Hueves and the local idiot captain is named Memos.

After negotiating with both captains Memos quoted me and my motorcyle at $60 US while Hueves quoted me $100. Naturally, I went with Memos even know his boat was slightly smaller at 30 ft and he seemed a bit more untrustworthy than Hueves. This was a big mistake!

Memos had assured me that he had ferried motorcycles across the ocean before, but as we started to load my bike he did not seem to have a clue of the man power necessary to lift a 500 lb motorcycle. I was forced to recruit a Swedish guy named Olaf, an Aussie and a group of German guys I had talked to earlier to help in the loading process. After we all boarded the boat Memos quickly started it and began to pull away with my bike untied and sitting on its kickstand. I yelled at him to stop so we could tie my bike and he gave me 1 minute to tie my bike while he lectured me on his tight ferry schedule and his passengers needing to arrive on time.

Having never tied down a motorcycle to a boat before, I did a crappy job of it. As soon as we took off the motorcycle began inching back and Olaf came to my rescue grabbing the other side of the bike so it did not roll back. For about 5 minutes things were going fine and than the sea became very choppy. The bike began to bounce and slowly inch back on the deck. Behind the bike were the legs of the Aussie tourists who many times during the journey came close to a broken leg.

Olaf and I with all our might held the bike down while I yelled at Memos to slow down. He would slow down for a minute and than go right back up to speed. As Memos continually  pushed up the speed the bike began to bounce worse and worse until the kickstand bent into a banana shape so that it was pointing up in the air. After the bike almost tipping over 2 times, Memos stopped and told me that he was changing our course for less choppy seas, but that I would have to pay him for 5 gallons of extra gas? Olaf told me not to give him anything.

When we finally reached Puerto Barrios I had lost my friend Olaf and most of the guys who helped load my bike because they got off at the last stop at Livingston. Memos kept mentioning the gas that I owed him and wanted the money before he got some Honduran teenagers to help us lift the bike onto the dock. I refused for 5 minutes until the situation looked grim and I than decided to give Memos my last 50 pesos which he complained about having to exchange. There was no better feeling than having my bike off that boat. Never again will I take such a small boat accross even a short span of open ocean!

Entering Belize (they speak English!) (10/27/07)

After driving through some of the most treacherous roads I have ever seen in Guatemala, I crossed the border at Belize where it took me about 15 minutes to get accross because they speak English! Belize is a very beautiful country and looks like a great retirement spot. The roads are straight and well paved.

Upon arriving at Belize City I went to the local police station to ask if I could camp there. The head of police kindly arranged an escort to take me to a late 1800´s beachfront fort that has been converted into a police barracks. This is the ideal place to camp in Belize City (this experience was more enjoyable than any of the motels I have stayed at). After a very long day of riding I slept peacefully with the sound of waves breaking in my ears and the sight of the sun setting accross the ocean.

Early in the morning I woke up to go run errands. I quickly found all the things I needed: synthetic oil, malaria pills, maps, and screws/bolts. Also, a kind employee at the hardware store helped me fix my lone side case which broke a mounting tab from all the bouncing up and down on rocks in Guatemala. He went through 2 drill bits drilling through the metal brakets we used to reinforce the tabs. After an hour of tinkering we were finished and both of us were soaked in sweat from hard work in the non airconditioned store.

Crossing the border into Guatemala. (10/24/07)

The previous night was spent at a hotel (I rode for for 6 hours of rain yesterday) with a friendly employee who new English from working in Wisconsin for 3 years. He took me to buy groceries with his wife in their brand new return of the El Camino vehicle. It was a very cramped ride and his wife had to sit up slightly for my friend to change gears.

In the morning I set out for the border crossing at La Mesilla, Guatemala. I can not describe to you how chaotic this border crossing is. All of a sudden after Ciudad Cuatemoc you run into 2 miles of shady roadside shops. There are cars parked everywhere on the road and the only way to get through the border seemed to be with a motorcycle weaving in and out of parked cars. After avoiding dozens of pedestrians and parked vehicles I finally reach the border crossing which is a small shack and a guy with an assault rifle who manually lifts a heavy metal gate. The border guard directs me to the side of the road to pay to have my bike sprayed with pesticide! grrr (they have these stupid things at almost every country in Central America and as soon as the pesticide guy sees you he gets excited because he can charge you the Gringo price). After this, I do the paper work which wasn´t too bad except having to wait in line at the bank for 30 minutes to pay my tourist permit.

Guatemala is a pretty poor country. Seeing dozens of trucks filled with people standing upinside of them reminded me of books I have read about the Holocaust and the Jews being forced to stand in railcars. On a more positive note, the people here are very friendly and and as my Lonely Plantet says ¨They make the best of what little they have.¨

My first flat tire ever! (10/23/07)

Today, as I am driving down the highway the front steering of my bike suddenly starts to lock up and turn to one side. I nervously do my best to regain control by yanking the handlebars to the other side as uncaring Mexican truck drivers pass me at 70 mph. Finally, I regain control and maneuver the bike to the shoulder where I notice that the front tire is flapping around. My first flat tire ever! Oh no! I nervously start to try and unpack my tool kit which takes 15 minutes to get off the bike now because of the side case that broke off in Baja. Just as I am about to attempt to somehow raise the bike and take off the tire help arrives. A 40 year old Mexican motorcyclist stops and after 15 minutes of complete jiberish I understand the word Tienda (shop) and proceed to follow him to a shop which is 1/2 mile away in the middle of now where (thank you god).

The shop guy, with the 3 tools he has at his shop and my toolkit, manages to fix the tire. After watching him change the tube I now feel an ounce of confidence that I can do this on my own. I pay the shop guy and give my new motorcyclist friend a bag of Trader Joe´s mixed nuts that he in turn gives to the shop guy who started eating nuts with his greasy fingers. All in all it was a good day of riding and my first flat tire which I will remember forever!   

The ruins at Palenque, Mexico (10/21/07)

After taking my Mexican drugs and resting for a day I feel much better. It takes me two days to drive to Palenque because the highway that goes there directly is closed for road construction and I have to instead detour North and head towards Cancun before I can drive South to Palenque. Wow, Palenque looks like Disney Land to my horrid surprise. I pull up to the parking lot and there must have been 100 vendors. They are selling everything from a miniature pyramid to a car wash. By the time I make it to the ruins my expectations have dropped considerably and for good reason too.

Palenque looks too perfect. Almost every building has been entirely redone. There are vendors every where around the ruins too. While you are looking at the ruins a vendor will confront you about an overpriced touristy Jade mask that he is trying to sell. I quickly surveyed all the buildings and made a quick get away from Palenque.