BC to Panama on a KLR

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 30 – Border Day [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A month in... I really have no concept of time now these days. Its either morning or evening, the day and date don't have lost all meaning, If we see kids in school uniforms its a weekday, if not chances are its a weekend, nothing is open on Sundays so that lets us know when a week has passed us by..[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Amazingly enough there was no street party outside our hostel and the rain was light so the roof didn't leak on my foot all night... We slept well and when we woke we headed out to pickup our bikes from the secure parking lot where Rob had suggested we park them after the previous night's antics near where we had parked previously.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We load up, say goodbye to our new found friends at the Hostel and put some road behind us in our trek to Guatemala City and beyond.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]Trying to work on my tan

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]80Km later we find ourselves in the bustling metropolis that is Guat City. Like any other 1+ million person city Guat has everything you could ever need, unlike every other 1+ million person city I know, Guat doesn't seem to have a single building over 3 storeys tall... [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We manage to get lost since the signage on the roads is so horrendous. With a little zigzag'ing through downtown, going the wrong way on one way streets and asking one very helpful Guatemalan we manage to find Highway 9 out of the city and out towards the El Florico frontera.[/FONT]

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Some gorgeous countryside, farms wherever they can squeeze them in...

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With some great info (from ADVRider Jdowns, thanks John!) we decide we will cross into Honduras at the El Florico / Copan Ruins crossing. The road out to El Florico is quiet and the locals stare at us like they've never seen a gringo on a motorcycle before.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The crossing itself is a tiny hole in the road, one store, a copy shop and the regular set of very laid back Guatemalan and Honduran border officials. When we roll in a quick consult of John's notes on this crossing reassure us as to the process and where to go get copy's and how many to got before we wasted our time in line.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]El Florico, the Guatemalan side

Getting some copy's before we try our luck on the crossing...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a stamp here, a fee there and couple stops to show our documentation we were through, even with our very limited Spanish we were through in less than half an hour, very friendly and helpful people! I would definitely recommend this crossing to anyone doing something similar.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]Honduran customs agent, slow and steady wins the race...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]On the Honduran side we skoot up the road about 10KM where we see a sign for the turn towards the Copan Ruins. We pull in at 3pm and have an hour and a half before the park closes to see the sights. A lot of cool history and some great artifacts, though a very small site compared to some like Tikal or Chitzen Itza.[/FONT]

Off we go!

A model of the site...

The Macaw's live free in the park, loud and large they are quite an attraction...

Our first glimpse of the ruins...

The Human sacrifice alter, you can see the indentation for the head and some channels to the blood to run down...

One of the 16(?) kings of Copan

A stone Macaw

The Royal residences

Sucky self portrait hahah

The "Old Mans Head"

View from the top of the observitory temple...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]After our tour we decide to hit up a hotel in town. Its a great little multicultural town that feels very similar to Antigua, Guatemala. For $250L (about $14usd) we get a nice room before getting out on the town for some food at “Jim's Pizza” which was delicious and a nice change from meat and beans.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 31[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I was up late last night talking to some friends from home, so its fair to say Rob got a better nights rest than I managed too. None the less we are up and at it early and after a cup of coffee on the road.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We make the decision to leave the Caribbean coast of Honduras for the return trip when it would be more in line with our intended route towards Tikal,Guatemala and Belize. Instead we will cut straight through the heart of the country. Small towns and gravel “roads” await us today.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The roads south from Copan start out as good as could be, great surface, some fun curves and nice scenery, we ride with the GPS pointed towards the little town of Gracious, Guatemala where the map shows there to be a road that can easily cut 150Km of today's ride.[/FONT]

Just keeps on rolling on...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With only a few wrong turns we end up in Gracious where we stop at a roadside stand after seeing some excellent looking Kabobs sizzling on a roadside grill. One of the best lunches yet! The lady cooking our food was very interested in our trip and with our broken Spanish we have a half decent conversion with her.[/FONT]

Mmmmm Meaty

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We head out of Gracious and into the mountains where my paper map shows a “Secondary Highway” connecting through to the CA-1 near the capital city. The GPS shows nothing, I should have invested in some quality maps for these countries before I left home. The Garmin basemap shows only a few of the major highways and nothing else![/FONT]

Before the rain starts I catch Rob watering the tree's...

Not bad, yet...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]So much for a secondary highway! The road that was unexpectedly gravel but in good condition soon becomes a clay monster and to top it off the heavens open with an unwelcome downpour. Riding becomes tricky at times and takes all of our focus to keep the bikes upright.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We stayed upright, this guy... not so lucky...[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We twist and turn up into the mountains before descending on the other side, finding a small village where the locals look at us like they've seen aliens and repeating the process. The landscape here is quite different than we had seen at lower altitudes. A very bare pine forest has emerged and has quite a somber feeling to it when enveloped in the low cloud and rain we were experiencing.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Soon we emerge from the seldom used gravel road and head for the Capital. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Tegucigalpa is a city full of smokey buses, lane splitting taxi's and motorcycles who zip in and out of traffic like a scene from a discovery channel show about China. The only hotels we can seem to find are of the $160usd/night variety.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We spend nearly two hours driving around town looking for hotels without luck before Rob's bike puts us out of commission again... The charging issue is still tagging along with us. With a bump start in the middle of a crowded downtown street we continue our search before the V-Strom decides its had enough and quits for good. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]By now its getting late, we push the bike over to the Popeye's chicken parking lot down the street and get some 'food' in us. There's no way we can fix Rob's bike tonight so we ask the shotgun toting guard if we can leave the bike overnight and come back for it in the morning, he's okay with the idea and rob give's him a little cash for his troubles.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A flagged down taxi will take Rob and his gear to a local hotel where we can get some rest before trying to fix the bike in the AM. We stop at a few hotels in what seems to be the ghetto's before finding a nice (but expensive) place close to the bike.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]While I relax in the room, Rob and the taxi driver go looking for a battery charger and a motorcycle shop so we'll be able to diagnose the problem easily in the morning...[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 32[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I finally manage to sleep in! Rob has been up and gone with his freshly charged battery to check out his bike. I take this little bit of down time to work on this ride report and send a couple e-mails before Rob comes back with bad news.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a freshly charged battery the bike is turning over well but wont fire... We jump on my bike to go have a look with a fresh set of eyes. Sure enough, the bike wont fire. We break out the tools, pull some panels , check the fuses, check for spark everything seems good...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Anything and everything is ridden here including full on Moto-X bikes...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The people make due with what they have...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rob decides its time to bring in some experts and we head to the Suzuki shop where we explain the problem and they send two mechanics down to look at the bike. Its quite a sight, one is an easy 250LB the other maybe 150lbs and both of them crammed on a little Suzuki DR200 weaving in and out of traffic.[/FONT]

Rob being "unhappy"

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The mechanics don't have much experience working on such an advanced bike, for the most part the units sold here are 100-250cc carbureted and oil cooled single cylinders, not 1000cc fuel injected V-twins. Without having much luck the mechanics get back on their bike and say they will return in a 'while' with a trailer to get the bike back to the shop.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rob decides to stay with his bike and send me off to make a badly needed oil change happen on my trusty (knock on wood) KLR. After a little searching and more than one shop trying to sell me automotive oils I find three quarts of 4stroke Motul oil. I run back to the hotel to grab my tools and an oil filter from my luggage before looking for a suitable spot to do an oil change.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I ask around and one guy says something along the lines of “do it here, the oil will keep the dust from my driveway away” After a small moral battle in my head I go ahead, park the bike and drop the oil in his gravel driveway. A new filter and 2.5 litres of oil in the bike and its good as new! As I'm ready to leave the man that suggested the idea comes out with his shovel and starts mixing the oil and gravel around, I thank him but when he responds “No, thank YOU” in Spanish I really don't know what to say.[/FONT]

He made me do it!

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I ride back to the chicken joint finding Rob is still there and torn right into his bike. As I roll into the parking lot he thumbs the magic button and the bike starts! What the hell?! Who cares! It runs![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rob decided to disconnect the power commander just to see if it could be the problem. I guess the charging issue and dead battery had either fried it or made it loose its fuel mapping. Regardless, one problem solved.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A quick ride up to the dealership to let them know we don't need that trailer anymore see's me getting the shakedown from the Honduran transit police for an Illegal U-turn (which 5 other vehicles also made). He seems quite upset with me as I keep repeating “I don't understand” and “I speak very little Spanish”. He finally rubs his fingers together in what I would call the universal hand signal for cash money. He wants $50USD to make this issue go away, that's nearly more than he makes in a week, not a chance. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I tell him “its too much” and say I only have a ten dollar bill which, regardless of what he asked for, he seems quite happy with. I pass over the bill as he passes my ID back and shakes my hand. Before leaving he wishes me a good day and good luck with my trip. I pull away laughing to myself about what had just occurred, I should be angry but I'm not.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Back to the hotel Rob goes hunting for a battery charger. His “solution” to the charging issue is that hes going to pull the battery every night and charge it. I warn him about the possibilities of killing the battery after so many deep discharges and frying the ECU from an under-voltage condition. Risk's he's willing to take it seems.[/FONT]

Being an electrician I always have to take pictures of the things were not allowed to do back home...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We find some dinner and retire to the room for a little English TV and an early nights sleep.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 33[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With Rob's bike running (though the charging issue still exists) we pack up and get out of the city with only a quick stop at one of the moto dealers for a couple new cans of chain lube. We decide we will head towards the Los Manas frontera rather than rolling the dice and trying the Main crossing on the Pan American highway.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]10Km out of town and getting up into the mountains, we pullover to put on our rain-gear before the looming clouds decide to soak us. Rob takes a minute to pull apart his rear brake and check it out as hes been feeling it drag on the ride up after changing the pads in town yesterday.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With the brakes finally sorted we continue on our way through the hills and into the rain. Soon we find ourselves at the ass end of a long line of trucks which, being on the bikes, we zip past and right up to the border.[/FONT]
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It's the standard process, find the right window, will out the form, get your stamp, go to customs export the bike before heading over to the Nicaraguan side. Again, find the entry window, fill out the form, pay the fee, get a stamp and then deal with importing the bike.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]This border crossing was a little more more complicated than our previous crossing at the Copan ruins, but only because of all the helpers and people hanging around. Its amazing how off your border crossing game you can get with just a few people making comments.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Into Nicaragua we make a few miles before finding some lunch at a small restaurant near the highway 1 junction. Chicken rolls, fried plantains, rice and beans make up our plate. The rain lets up for a while and seems to start again as soon as we return to the bikes. Lunch was paid for in US dollars since we didn't have enough Cordoba's from our exchange at the border to cover the cost.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We find a bank and a hotel room in a small nondescript town on the way towards Managua, we try our best to hang our gear to dry in the room but the humidity would make that a no win situation. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]In a nondescript town, what would be more fitting for dinner than a beer and a nondescript hamburger that tastes like it was pulled from the bottom of the freezer in a package dated 1990. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Between the border crossing and the rain we are pretty wiped out and fall asleep to “Rocky” on the TV.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 34[/FONT]


[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Finally a beach...[/FONT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Off and under way after a damp and humid night, we load up the bikes in the pouring rain and pull on our almost dry riding gear. The plan is to head south and transit the country in order to spend more time in Costa-Rica and Panama.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]A very rare dry spot

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The rain stays heavy and with around 150KM's under our belts this morning we turn away from the capital of Manauga south towards the town of Granada on the shores of lake Nicarauga.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We find these guys on the side of the road selling "bush meat" aka Iguana's and Armadillo's they dont want their pictures taken and as we are about to leave the cops roll up to talk to them... I guess thats why![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Granada in itself is a very nice old colonial town with a great central park, huge churches and a touristy atmosphere. I could have stayed the night here but since it was so early in the day yet I had problems convincing myself that that was a good idea. I wanted to be lined up to hit the mess of a border crossing into Costa Rica first thing in the morning.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]Tourists on the move!

Quite the church!

The old and the new, nothing to spoil a picture like a cell phone tower I didnt see when taking it...

City hall

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We find the last decent town before the border on the isthmus between lake Nicaragua and the pacific ocean, San Juan del sur. A small beach town with a rough edge to it, seems like a nice enough place. We stay at a local hostel which ends up being more expensive than we had hoped at $10usd a night.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]Beachside @ San Juan Del Sur

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Squared away we head for the beach and a happening Bar/Resturaunt by the name of Henry's Iguana where we enjoy an ice cold beer and some AMAZING fish taco's. With a little tooling around town and a stop at the internet cafe we call it an evening and retire to the oven that is our dorm room.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The Hostel and some stinky boots...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Our dinner entertainment, beachside.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Go here for the best fish taco's ever![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With the doors and window wide open and the fan running full blast I manage to drift off to sleep to some mellow tunes on the Ipod.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 35[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Last night was uncomfortable, even with the door and window open and the fans running full blast but eventually I did end up getting to sleep... Around 1am the heavens open and im awakened by the loudest rainstorm I've ever heard, I grab the boots and socks from outside to prevent them from getting completely soaked.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]When it finally gets to be a reasonable hour in the morning I'm up and headed for an ATM to get some extra cash for the border crossing into Costa-Rica, on the way I find a great little Coffee shop called the “Gato Negro” or black cat cafe.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Packing up and ready to hit the road Rob has lost his keys somewhere and the spare set he brought with him for some reason does not have an Ignition key on it... He franticly tears apart his luggage and riding gear looking for them with no luck. All he can do now is trace his steps last night and hope he left them at the bar or somewhere... After an hour he returns with the keys that he left at the grocery store last night, always an Adventure...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Half an hour on the bikes has us finding that familiar line up of semi-trucks outside the border crossing. We scoot past and into the mayhem of what is the only crossing from Nicaragua to Costa-Rica. The place is a zoo but with patience and some helpful directions we find the offices we need to find, get the stamps we need to get and wait in the lines we need to wait in.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]3 hours pass before we are finally clear of the border, I'm glad we decided to do this first thing in the morning, I'm not sure I would have had the patience to deal with it after a full day of riding.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]Waiting waiting waiting...

More waiting, this time for the customs official to look over our bike paperwork...

And a little more waiting on manditory insurance...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Costa-Rica, a new country, a new landscape, a new outlook.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]We're in!

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We drive into the country for about 40 minutes before turning west towards the beaches where we can spend the evening. Not a lot of kilometres today but we're still wiped out. Playa Coco sounds like a nice enough place, we ride on to check it out.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The town is set back away from the ocean and Rob is unimpressed by the water but frankly we're just looking for a place to spend the night. After riding around we wind an out of the way restaurant on the beach with a covered patio upstairs and decide to see if we can pitch our tents there this evening.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The deal ends up being $4usd per person and we drink their beer and east their food... Works for me, the last thing I wanted to do was pack up camp in a torrential downpour in the morning and this covered porch made sure I wouldn't have to.[/FONT]

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With the tents set, a walk along the beach is in order, rob goes for a swim to check out the marine life along the rocky coast and not much later returns due to poor visibility. We grab some dinner at our restaurant which we were wary of as we hadn't seen anyone in there to eat all night, but it turns out very well, some great fish with fried plantains and beans...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The sunshine peaks through every now and then...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Soccer on the beach seems popular...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A dramatic sky scene[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Our home for the evening...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Mmmm Food...
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[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 36 - And then there was ONE...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Last night was an interesting one... After our visit to the internet cafe, Rob, who left before me, decided to go for a ride on the beach where his battery finally crapped out on him once he stalled the bike in the sand, perhaps not the best idea ever... He comes walking back to the hotel asking for my help to push the bike back to a road where he removes the battery for charging...[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With some interesting news via e-mail last night I had a restless sleep, worried about my time frame and the idea that Rob will try to fix his bike in San Jose. I may have to slip off from Rob in order to make my deadlines.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We pack up camp and load the bikes before setting out on an already hot morning. Within an hour we find ourselves getting pulled off to the side of the road by the transit police for doing 90Km/h in an 80 zone. Rob try's to blame it all on me (thanks buddy ) in order to get out of his ticket. The officer seems to have a good attitude and doesn't want to write us up on our first real day in CR but comes up with the idea that $20us could make them go away. Paid and happy he wishes us well on our trip and encourages us to keep an eye on the limits.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rob suggests that he doesn't want to be moving so quickly (hard to guess when he's the one who gets impatient behind any sort of traffic and passes in the worst possible spots) and brings up the idea of splitting ways in the next day or so.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a missed turn out to the coast we unexpectedly end up on the outskirts of San Jose where rob decides hes going to find a hotel and the local Suzuki shop and get ready to figure his bike out on monday morning. I make it known that I'm not into staying in the city and we say our goodbyes before I head further south.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Its bittersweet really, on one hand I like not having to worry about the others in my group, only doing what I want, when I want but at the same time its nice to have a travel companion, and someone who speaks much better Spanish than I... [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rob will be in San Jose for at least 4 or 5 days and quite possibly much longer if a part needs to be special ordered... Rob's facebook updates this evening let me know that at least he has found a nice cheap place to stay near the dealership and some local friends to help him out.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]My path out of town is on a newly constructed and very poorly signed (toll) highway. Which ends up leading me northwest out of town towards the turn off to the coast that I had missed earlier in the day. I had payed too many tolls to make it worthwhile to turn around now...Besides there was a cool sounding place to stay out there recommended by another adventurer.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The run out to the coast starts getting quite scenic around the town of Tarcoles where the beaches and seaside mountains take my breath away. I pass through the heavily Americanized surf/resort town of Jaco with only a quick tour some nice looking resorts and some gorgeous women but the prices are steep and I already have a line on a place for the night.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]About 100Km further down the coastline past miles and miles of palm groves I find the town of Dominical where I remember Jdowns saying to start watching for a sign on the side of the road pointing up into the mountains towards Rancho Diandrew where he had stayed and had a great (and cheap) experience.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I nearly drive right past the sign but it catches my eye at the last second. Turning up the steep winding gravel road into the mountains rewards me with some amazing views and a fun ride. Around 4Km up the road and having gained around 1100' I turn into Rancho Diandrew and find it all closed up tight. Unfortunately no one is home, but I take the chance to look round and check it all out regardless. Looks and sounds like a great place to stay in the dry season! The views are amazing, and with good home cooked food and Wifi Internet you'd be hard pressed to go wrong.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]This is the sign your looking for

The views as you climb...

The rancho's camping area...

Now thats a room with a view!

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With no luck at the ranch I head back down the hill and south a few KM's to the small unadulterated surf hangout of Uvita. The local hostel looks like a great place but is full up so I end up getting a room down the road a ways at the “Gato Cabana's” Nice enough place with clean rooms and I managed to negotiate a fair price.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A quick ride down the road finds me some groceries (fruit and drinks) as well as a delicious (or maybe I was just hungry) fried chicken dinner before I settle in for the night vegging out to some satellite TV and writing up ride reports.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 37[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I take some time this morning to start catching up on ride reports that I've been slacking on and manage to post days 34 and 35 before packing my things and checking out of my room. I plan to head for the small border crossing to Panama of Rio Serano up in the mountains today.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The road is gorgeous, first following the coastal plane before turning inland and hugging the walls of a river valley. Everything is very lush and green and staring off into the panoramic scene unfolding in front of me I almost manage to hit a spider money sitting in the middle of the road.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]50Km's in the road starts gaining elevation and after crossing a cool old bridge over the river it starts to follow the ridge line of the mountain dropping steeply on both sides with only enough room for a small house here or there. The views of the central valley are jaw dropping.[/FONT]
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]In Sabalito I ask for directions to the frontera as the signage is nonexistent at this point. The locals point me up the road and tell me to turn left onto the gravel at a school. None of the turns are marked and without the locals directions and the GPS assuring me I was headed towards the international border it would be very difficult to locate.[/FONT]

The main road to the frontera...

Finding this imigration building was the hardest part...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rio Soreno itself is a small unassuming community with a very laid back feel, you wont find any border gates or guards here, just a road into Panama. Its up to the traveller to locate the migration offices and get their stamps before continuing through.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a little searching I find the Costa Rica migration office and without hesitation the man riding the desk stamps me out of CR and tells me to go to the Panama office down the street. A stop in the Panama office has my passport stamped in and the official quite interested in my trip, he and one of the soldiers ask a lot of questions about the bike and how far I've come before sending me down to Panamanian customs.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]At the Auduana checkpoint there is no English spoken whatsoever and it seems that there is a paperwork issue. I try to work around it with my limited Spanish and they do their best to explain it to me. Regardless, I never really know what the issue is, only that they cant process the bike here and I'll have to go to another crossing, either Sixoula on the Caribbean coast or the Pan American crossing on the pacific.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A royal pain in the ass, but I agree and turn back into Costa Rica wondering how this will play out having already been stamped out of the country and into Panama... A stop in Sabilito for some coffee and a piece of pizza will fuel me for the ride back down the mountain and towards the main border crossing...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The road down is even more fun than the road I came up on, tighter, twistier and again with great views. A few oncoming buses using the entire road (all 1.5 lanes of it) keep me on my game and ready to drop the bike into the ditch if necessary.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The border wasn't a big issue, I ignored all the helpers and' the Costa-Rican cop waving me into the migration area and rode right through to the Panama Aduana where a very helpful “tourism panama” employee helped me out... He didn't know how I already had a Panamanian stamp , but after seeing it he didn't care, we went and got the mandatory insurance and did all the paperwork before I tipped him $2 (took some convincing, he didn't want to accept it) and rode away...[/FONT]

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[/FONT]The boys working on my Import permission

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Panama Baby! I guess that makes me about half way done this trip...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With aspirations of seeing the Panama canal tomorrow I press on south through the unimpressive coastal plain and eventually make it to Santiago where I call it an night and after searching around settle on a nice but a little more expensive that I would have liked hotel room... Feeling lazy I walk next door for dinner at McDonald's rather than getting on the bike to find some real food.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 38 - The 8th wonder of the world![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I'm out of the hotel and on the road early this morning excited to see the Canal and Panama City. There's around 250KM to cover, mostly boring straight highway. I turn the Ipod on, hit shuffle and make some miles.

About halfway to the Canal I'm passed by a jeep with Alberta plates, the occupants are madly waving a Canadian flag at me and I give them a big ol' Thumbs up! Nice to see some locals down here. Little did I know what it would turn into later.
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Arriving in Panama City via the bridge of the America's I learn that there are really no roadsigns here. Nothing that says Miraflores locks, nothing that says Canal... Nothing... With the GPS running I do my best to keep the bike pointed at the east side of the Canal and soon end up finding the Port where I ask directions. The answer I get is “10KM straight up the road”. Perfect![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The locks found I pay my $8 to enter the visitors centre which will give me access to the museum, the theatre and the upper level viewing platforms. The price of admission is worth it for the museum and video alone! Its a great exhibit detailing the construction, maintenance and operations of the canal.
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[/FONT]The Miraflores visitors center

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]After my tour through four floors of Museum I make my way to the rooftop to watch 2 Panamax size container ships transit south through the locks. To me its an amazing sight, I'm told there is as little as two feet of room on either side of the ship when a Panamax (the largest vessels that can sail through the Canal) ship transits.[/FONT]

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Start of the Museum experiance

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Model of the origanal dredging ships

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[/FONT]A section of the locks and the massive ball bearing the gates ride on.

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Its a wall choreographed dance of man and machinery. I spend an hour or two watching and pondering what it really took to build such a thing. I'm told that there is an expansion in the works, maybe I'll look for a job working on it.[/FONT]

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Looking south towards the Pacific

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One down 2 to go!

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The "mules" pulling the ship into the next lock chamber.

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[/FONT]Another "Panamax" ship

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Seeing what I had come to see I leave and ride around searchiing for a hotel. I end up on the Armador causeway and everything I find is in the $100+ a night range, upon leaving I'm flagged down by two heavily armed polices officers on a Suzuki DRZ650. They ask where I'm headed to which I respond in my best Spanish, “a hotel but these are a lot of money”. The shotgun toting passenger starts giving me directions in 'mile a minute' spanish and I have to tell him I don't understand.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Soon the officers give up and motion for me to follow them. What the hell, lets go see what they've got... We zip in and out of traffic, up onto sidewalks, over curbs and through red lights and pedestrian trails before we end up at a small B&B near the Canal. The price is still a little high but nothing outrageous. I check in and the boys in green and I BS about bikes a little before I get their picture and they take off. Very cool! [/FONT]

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Panama City from the Armador Causeway

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Nicely set up DR650

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[/FONT]Some very friendly and helpful police

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The Canal Inn is a great little B&B with attentive staff, nice rooms, comfortable beds and a great atmosphere. I get directions to a cool little cafeteria style restaurant close by and head out for some food before turning in for the night, tomorrow will see me at the end of the road and will be a long day![/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 39 – The end of the road and back![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Today's plan was to head down to the end of the road in the city of Yasviza. I would kick myself If I came this far and never took the extra day to go see it. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Up early I take some time to check in on the computer Where I find a message from Nate (HammerDown on ADVRider) Which explains that he was the Alberta licenced jeep that had passed me yesterday on the highway and to call if I needed anything while I was in town.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I pack my gear and heading into the communal area of the B&B for some Breakfast. Excellent local coffee and a few great eggs are prepared for me by the owners, they are quite interested in my trip but think I'm crazy to be riding so far.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Packed up and the wall of the dining room signed, (as is tradition for the guests here to do) I say my goodbyes and head out going the wrong way down a “una via” street and over a few curbs. I guess the ride from last night is still fresh in my head.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]On the way out of town I manage to take a wrong turn and end up in the Ghetto's of Panama city. I can feel the greedy eyes upon me and my bike, Its only 9am and this place has a sketchy feel to it, I would hate to get lost down here after dark.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Soon following the GPS arrow south I manage to get free of the slums and find some nice old colonial buildings and the right road to take me south. Ave. Balboa takes me along the waterfront of Panama city and allows for a few choice pictures before dipping inland and out the other side.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Old statue just outside the slums[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Panama City waterfront...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The road south to Yazvisa is well travelled but in a state of disrepair. 50Km south of Panama city the road narrows to the familiar 1.5 lane wide country standard that you can find all over Central America. Leaving the coastal plane the road traverses some rolling hills and farmland every once in a while spanning a river or creek with a narrow one lane bridge.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Note: this is not the one lane bridge... lol
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Nearly 270 kilometres after leaving Panama City this morning the road curves around its final bends and leaves me staring at the village of Yazvisa without even the courtesy of a sign to say, “the road ends here amigo”.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I know there should be a footbridge over the river here somewhere, its what I've come to see, the start of the Darien gap. A little driving around in the “streets” of Yazvisa (4' wide concrete strips) and a few questions later and Im face to face with the bridge to no-where.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The 'roads' of Yazvisa...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Its quite an achievement for me mentally to know that I drove as far south as possible and made it to the end of the road. I'm relived to know that I've made it half way but at the same time slightly disappointed... I almost wish I had the funds, the time and the tenacity to head for South America.[/FONT]

End of the road...

I made it!

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I take a few pictures at the bridge and get ready to make the long trek back to Panama City when I realize that I'm running low on fuel. I'd neglected to fill up at the station an hour down the road figuring that Yazvisa would have fuel. I was wrong... I ask around and finally get pointed behind a restaurant where I bang on a door and am greeted by a giant of a man who looks like he just woke from his afternoon siesta.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]He doesn't seem overly personable but it's entirely possible I just woke him from a perfectly good mid-afternoon nap. I explain my dilemma as he cuts me off and just asks me how much fuel I need. Two gallons of nice red fuel slosh into my tank from his personal stash. I end up paying a premium for it at $4 USD per gallon but that sure beats sitting on the side of the road empty.[/FONT]

The indiginous population in this area live in stilt houses built out of whatever scrap wood is available...
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The ride back into town is interesting, much better than a four lane super-slab but a five hundred plus kilometer day on a KLR will take its toll on anyone and by the time I get back to Panama City I'm feeling pretty wiped out.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I pull up Nate's phone number and find a payphone thinking that maybe he's care to join me for dinner and a beer or at the very least be able to give me some good tips on cheap places to stay in town. After scrounging up enough change to use the payphone I get in touch with Nate only to be cut off... A bad connection I guess, but the phone managed to keep my money, greedy thing![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Back on the phone with Nate I propose my dinner plan to which he responds that he'd already eaten and was babysitting his 3 year old sun while his wife went out to play this evening bun in the same breath he also manages to offer me a bed for the night. I was going to ask about cheap places to stay but you cant get much cheaper than free![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Directions written down, the sun set well below the horizon and quite tired from my days travel I set out on a new adventure, night riding in Panama city! I return to the waterfront before finding the road to Israel and heading toward Nate's. Either Nate gives a good set of directions or I'm an excellent navigator, I found it first time with no wrong turns!
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[/FONT]Panama City waterfront @ Night

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Nate greats me at the door, his son Matson in tow. I unload the bike and park it inside the compound next to Nate's KTM 640 Adventure before the two of them show me to my room for the evening. I grab a quick shower and change out of my smelly riding clothes before heading downstairs to hang out.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Nate is a Pilot and makes his living flying out of Panama city, an avid motorcyclist and baseball fan he's making a habit of finding Adventurers on the road and inviting them home. Apparently it wasn't that long ago that Antontrax had stayed here for a week while exploring the area.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We crack a few beers and watch the baseball games while bullshiting about my trip, bikes, jobs, local culture and more. Matson is an awesome little guy who at the age of 3 is already bilingual and has a passion for motorcycles. Like father like son, right?! With a 6am flight Nate turns in early, tells me to make myself at home and that If I was still around he would see me tomorrow evening.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I retire to my room and manage a quick skype call home and an e-mail or two before passing out in the glory of air conditioned goodness.[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 40[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Not a lot to write about today... I wake up after a great sleep at Nate's house to a deafening thunderstorm. A quick check of the computer tells me the whole country is socked in and it doesn't look like is going to let up anytime soon... I don't want to go ride in the pouring rain but I also don't want to spend any of my precious “down days” (non riding days) here waiting out a storm.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I pack in 450Km of slab on the way north from Panama City to the town of David where I search around and find a cheap but clean hotel with secure parking right downtown. The next order of business was laundry, I was running out of clothing, my last pair of fresh socks went on this morning. It takes a little work to find a place that has both a washer and a dryer, most just hang things to dry, but I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get a pile of wet clothes back.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]$2.50 gets me express service at the place around the corner from the hotel, the lady suggests I go get some dinner and come back for my clothes afterwards, sounds like a plan. Dinner was mediocre to say the least, I'm very much missing food that has some flavor. The beer was cold and probably the best part of the whole day... I return for my laundry and stop by a convenience store for drinks and snacks on my way back to the hotel. I crash out early tonight, the internet isn't working and as such I loose all drive to work on these reports. Tomorrow I head for Costa-Rica again.[/FONT]

 

[mudboy]

Man I wish I had enough time off to do a trip like this, at least I can escape for awhile by reading your report! Thanks!

 

[shevthump914]

shaaaaaaaaaazzzzzzaaaammmm......SO INCREDIBLY AWESOME...I applaud you...LOVIN the pics an writeup..Paul.S

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 41[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I'm pretty sure I am the only guest at the hotel, it was a quiet night and I slept amazingly well for not having air conditioning. I plan to head to the Carribean coast today and depending on time and what I find possibly into Costa-Rica at the Sixoula frontera.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The road snakes its way up into the mountains where the fog and rain soon engulf me. With limited visibility the patch and pothole ridden road turns into an interesting game of “don't bend the wheel”. I wouldn't want to ride this road on anything less than a KLR, it wouldn't be any fun on a more street oriented bike.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Over the crest I wind my way down into a central valley where the road passes around a huge reservoir and in the distance the hydro-electric dam that created it. Its a pretty awesome moment as this all rolls into view and the sun breaks through the low cloud.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Crossing the dam I roll into the hills again for another round of rain and fog. Its not long before I'm headed downhill and the fog breaks reviling a gorgeous scene like straight out of a travel brochure. Lush green hills leading down to a crystal clear blue ocean all topped off with a fluffy cloud dotted sky.
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The Caribbean coastline is nice but less than what I had expected of Panama. The beaches were dirty, the water while warm wasn't all it was talked up to be and there was really nothing that caught my eye or interested me enough to make me want to spend more than an hour here, let alone my afternoon and evening. I decide I will head on to Costa-Rica and see If I cant find something there.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The Sixoula border crossing is quite an interesting spot. An rusty old rail bridge across the river now serves vehicle traffic, warped wooden planks nailed down to the original rotting rail ties and gaps in the railing sealed off with scrap pieces chain link fence.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The Panamanian Auduana official didn't like the idea that I wasn't leaving the country the same way I came in but his his will to fight tired quickly and he reluctantly cancelled my import permit and stamped me out of the country.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The ride across the bridge was interesting, my front wheel kept trying to drop into the groves between the planks and then there was the open holes to the river below which I had to avoid and the pedestrians who no matter what wouldn't move to the other side of the tracks so that I could ride faster than walking pace.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]On the Costa-Rican side of the bridge I'm waved into the Customs and immigration office where the Auduana officer tells me he's just going on lunch but he'll be back in an hour to give me my importation paperwork. I tell him no problem, I still have permission from my previous time in Costa-Rica that wasn't cancelled when I entered Panama. The official seems miffed at this as I guess he was hoping for a 'propina' (tip) to stay and do paperwork on his lunch break. I head into immigration, fill out my entry form and get stamped in without issue.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Into CR the road passes by miles upon miles of banana and plantain plantations which must be the main employer's in the area. Unfortunately the road doesn't really parallel the coastline, a few quick jaunts out to the coast reveal nothing exciting and I keep pushing north.[/FONT]

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[/FONT]Working on my tan (burn)

Another cool KLR

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Soon without finding anything of great interest, the road turns inland towards San Jose and the central valley and while the coast was fun the mountains were better. Gorgeous twisty roads with little to no traffic and great pavement had me laughing in my helmet. I even went so far as to get a little carried away and drag my pannier around one corner... Ooops...[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]On the the San Jose side of the mountains the weather has closed in and the rain drizzles just enough to set the mood. Its late in the afternoon maybe around 5:30 or 6pm and I still have to make it through town and to a hotel. Stuck in rush hour, lane splitting and hopping curbs when possible I make it to downtown San Jose and on to an insustrial neighborhood slightly south.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]By now its dark and the rain has turned into a downpour from a drizzle, I'm thoroughly lost and have only the arrow on the GPS to guide me towards the Pan-American highway out of town. I approach an intersection and as I look to the GPS to verify my course the bike is pulled out from underneath me. I'm sent sliding into the intersection by a water hidden railway line cut into the roadway.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I jump up and instinctively look around to gauge who might have witnessed my mishap, unfortunately the intersection is busy and I just became the nightly entertainment. I right the bike, hope on, start it up and ride away before pulling over to check it out. The only damage sustained were a few scratches on the pannier case and a bruised ego. I should have known better, should have been watching better, but all in all, no harm done.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Back on familiar roads I make my way to the outskirts of town looking for the Hotel that my previous riding partner Rob has been holed up in for the past week while waiting on parts to fix the charging issue with his V-Strom. Unable to find the spot and with no way to contact Rob I end up at an overpriced chain hotel, down the road, paying their premium eagerly just to get out of the downpour, dry off and lay down.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]An interesting day for sure![/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 42[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I start the morning out with some breakfast at the attached Denny's restaurant only because its included with the price of the room (damned well best get something for that kind of money). A couple cold pancakes and an inattentive waiter make for a great experience. I make sure not to leave a tip, In fact I should have found one on anther table and stolen it.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The familiar drive along CA-1 towards the border crossing to Nicaragua take about 3 hours. I stop in Liberia for a coffee and muffin at a local spot where I meet a couple texans with nothing good to say about there time here and chat with a very nice (and gorgeous) young woman from Washington, DC who had been down here teaching English for the last 6 months, today was her last day in country before heading home.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]After some good conversation and tips on where to go and what to see in Nicaragua i carry on to the border. If you recall our last trip through this crossing was a zoo that took nearly 3 hours, today however there are almost no lineups at all. I ride right in to the customs office now that I knew where everything was and cancel my CR import permit before heading down the road to CR Immigration to get stamped out of the country.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The Nicaraguan side is more complex but not by much. I ride in past all the Semi-trucks and get in line at immigration, pay my entry fee, get my stamp and start the process of importing the bike. As with exiting the country you need the signatures of the on duty Auduana agent and police officer as well as receipts for the payments you've made before you'll be given the precious piece of paper and sent on your way.[/FONT]

Looking back on Costa-Rica Immigration

NIcaraguan Customs, as I sit waiting for my importation permission...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Back in Nicaragua I make a beeline for Grenada. We stopped in briefly on our way south and it was a city that I felt I could have spent more time in. I would work out well, Arriving in town around 4pm the search for a hotel goes well with a $15 room at a local hostel nice and close to the town square. I find secure parking for the moto grab my camera and head out on the town for some photo's as the light fades to a perfect golden glow.
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Isla de Ometepe, formed by two volcanoes in the middle of Lago Nicaragua.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Currious cow, caught me watering the grass...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Windmills windmills everywhere...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Ahhh, the glory that is Granada... Loved it here![/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Colorfull, Colonial and Fun - Great city!
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Even the locals are enjoying themselves!

A local church...

Statue in the central square at sunset...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Gazebo in the sqaure, a favorite local hangout...

I'm told they only turn it on for "real tourist season"

Ever since leaving Mexico the food has been downhill, its been good, just bland, missing flavor, so tonight when I walked past a fairly authentic looking Mexican restaurant my fate was sealed. I ask for the house speciality and get a plate stacked full of food, Chicken enchiladas, a stuffed chilli, re-fried beans, guacamole and salsa... When I get a chance to enjoy my dinner between begging kids and people selling all manor of things, its delicious, a welcome change from the normal!

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]After dinner I find a $3 haircut a the “special lady” (no joke) salon before heading back to the hostel...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Hostel cat says " I's sleeping, go away"...[/FONT]

 

[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 43[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I'm awake early this morning and ready to hit the road by 8am after I retrieve the bike from the secure parking area down the street. The plan today is to head to Leon but when I ask how long it should take I'm told that there are a lot of issues with the road after last week's tropical storm and they advise against going that way.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I decide that riding alone into a bad situation while sounding like a good time wasn't that smartest idea. I decide to had inland and cross to Honduras instead... I stop for a coffee and a Chocolate chip banana muffin at Euro Cafe just off the main square before heading out.[/FONT]

Mmm

House on the hill..

Dramatic skys

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I make good time on the familiar roads in the great weather and before noon I find myself in the town of Octal just outside the border. I stop at a little convenience shop at the side of the road and buy a nice cold bottle of coke for 2 Cordoba's or about 10 cents US. As I sit and drink I watch as a young boy, maybe ten or twelve years old walk up and rummage around in his pockets for some change with which he buys a cigarette and a piece of bread before running back across the street and into the bushes... Interesting...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]the store in question...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I cross the border with a minimum of fuss, however was sent running back to the Nicaraguan side for photocopy's a few times since the copy shop on the Honduran side was out of order. With a couple new passport stamps and my wallet a little lighter I make my way towards the Honduran capital.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Border crossing might as well be a parking lot,,,[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Stamps and paperwork... this way please...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The road is under heavy construction and riding a motorcycle is a definite plus as you can pass pretty well anywhere compared to a car or truck. I filter to the front of the lines when one lane sections appear and pass heavily loaded trucks on the steep uphill grades.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I roll into Tegucigalpa and find myself riding along a very familiar chunk of road dreading the idea of finding a hotel in this city (Remember Day 31?). I decide food was the first priority and I could deal with the hotel issue afterwards.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A decent hamburger in my stomach (did I mention I was tired of typical Central American food?) I exit the restaurant only to find a Honduran police officer looming over my bike. Shit! What did I do? Am I gonna get shaken down for another bribe?![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]It turns out that Auner (his name) is just a bike fanatic who happens to own a KLR just down the road from here. He loves my bike with all the different modifications and has all sorts of questions for me about how the trip has been and how much this or that costs. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]We chat for a little bit, my Spanish is bad, his English is no better but we manage. I ask Auner about a budget hotel in the area, He knows just the one, Hotel Granada, cheap but nice he says in broken English. I ask for directions but he just tells me to follow him, awesome! With a quick stop to show me his pristine KLR we blast through traffic to the other side of town and Hotel Granada. Auner goes inside and negotiates me the cop special, $15 down from $30 and give me his phone number in case I have any troubles with police or border officials during my stay in his country.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Auner enjoying a KLR with goodies...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a couple photo's, a handshake and the URL for this ride report written in his ticket book we part ways... Great guy![/FONT]

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[Lonewolf]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 44[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]This morning I get lost for nearly an hour trying to find my way out of the city. I drive around in circles trying to find the access road and the highway, note to self, buy a good set of maps for the GPS next time...[/FONT]

This doesnt look like the right road to me...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]North of town, through the hills there is a lot of roadwork happening and riding a motorcycle is a huge plus as you can pass nearly anywhere compared to your standard car or truck. Filtering to the front of the line when there are single lane sections, passing groups of 5 or 6 semi trucks on the uphill grades, worth its weight in gold and I'm sure it saved me an hour of driving today![/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]4 hours of riding behind me I arrive in Tela on the Caribbean coast of Honduras. It's HOT here! The thermometer I have mounted on the bike reads 46 degree's Celsius!!
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Wow, just soaked in sweat!
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Tela is a small town with a real feel to it set on a gorgeous white sand beach. Once the executive quarters for the top brass of the United Fruit Company (owners of the Chiquita banana brand) the beaches are top notch and the water bathtub warm.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I try to shack up at a cheap local hostel but the girl at the desk flat out refuses my request. She doesn't want to see anything happen to my motorcycle and they don't have any secure parking. She tells me there are “muy problemas” leaving the bike on the street overnight. I roll around town and find a cheap hotel with secure parking and call it good.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Bridge is out, another repurposed railway crossing keeps traffic flowing.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Miles of Palm plantations[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Ahhh Tela[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Through a thin palm grove you'll find the beach...[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The surf is small but the water is clear and warm...
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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I change and head straight for the beach, the water is warm but in combination with the constant sea breeze its refreshing. After a few hours walking around town, swimming at the beach and generally just enjoying life I head back to the hotel. I ask about good food and the girl at the desk rattles off a whole list.[/FONT]

Not very crowded...

A old dugout canoe...

My $20 hotel...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I wonder just down the street and come across the Las Angles Chinese restaurant where I stop. The menu looks good and there are enough locals around to know it must be half decent. I order a bowl of loaded wanton soup (shrimp, chicken and pork) and a plate of chow mein. I should have asked how big each was! My bowl of soup was easily a meal in itself... I gorge myself trying to make a dent in all this great food, but to no avail, its just too much. I waddle back to the hotel and pass out in the luxury of an air conditioned room.[/FONT]

Dinner... Delicious but huge portions, hardley made a dent...

 

[tomcycle]

I am enjoying your trip report, nice break durring the workday

I can only hope to do a trip like yours, maybe in my future

Keep the reports coming

Thanks
Tom

 

[Lonewolf]

Thanks Tom! Just do it! Had i planned this may not have happened!

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Day 45[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]From Tela on Honduras' Caribbean coast I head west towards the city of San Pedro Sula. There is a saying here which I think rings true, “Tegucigalpa thinks, San Pedro Sula works and Tela & La Ceiba have fun”. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]San Pedro Sula is a major agricultural centre sending its crops all across central america and the world. Miles of Banana, Pineapple and Suger Cane fields fly by as I make my way through town and out the other side. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Not wasting any time, I get lost trying to find the main road south to the border (this is starting to become common place). A few locals help me with directions but at best I get 2 or three blocks before asking another. I with a minimum of fuss I do eventually find the road and put some miles under my belt.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Its not long after, that in a small town on the way to the border a pickup decides to back out of a parking spot and into the oncoming traffic. With a buss in the oncoming lane and pedestrians on the shoulder, the truck in front of me has no choice but to slam on his brakes and pray. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Not paying enough attention I don't notice this until a split second later, and with no avoidance options I go into full on panic braking mode, I squeeze the brakes until near lockup, it looks like I might just make it... And then, the truck in front of me rear ends the one backing out onto the street, with the last few feet of my stopping room gone I lightly tag his rear bumper with my wheel. Heart pounding, happy to still be rubber side down I roll the bike to the ride of the road and get off to inspect the damage.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]There are no issues from the bike to truck contact, I cant say the same for the truck to truck rear ender. I talk to the owner he says its all good and waves me on my way. I go back to the bike and have a better look, the rim looks fine, forks are good, but as I roll it forwards I notice the brake calliper moving about ¾ of an inch with every wheel revolution. I guess while my tire may have tagged his bumper, the trailer hitch poking out had managed to do one better on my nice oversized brake rotor...[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Its bent to all hell, I'll burn whats left of the pads out and probably damage the calliper if I ride it like this... Time to MacGyver it until a permanent fix can be found. I remove the Calliper and using the spare hose clamp and some stainless tie wire from my tool kit affix it to the fork leg.
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[/FONT] What more can i do here and now?

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Not the optimum solution as the stock brakes on the KLR's sucked, let alone only riding with the stock rear brake. It will work for now though and get me into a town where I can figure out a better solution...[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The 45 minute ride to the Copan Ruins border crossing is a learning experience and I look for the front brake on more than one occasion. With time I train myself to leave much more room and become more familiar with how the rear brake reacts in all circumstances.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The crossing into Guatemala is painless, I'm becoming quite proficient at this by now. I get stamped out of Honduras and cancel my importation permission before heading to the Guatemalan side for my entry stamp. I end up having to wait for 20 minutes while the girl in the booth eats her lunch, she wont take 2 minutes out of her time to stamp the only traveler at the crossing into her country.[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Finally stamped passport in hand I ride off into Guatemala bypassing customs as the agent on my way south had left my importation permit open for my return, who says bureaucracy is bullshit?[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The road north towards the coast again is nothing to write home about, long straight sections followed by some okay hills and then back to the long bring straights. Two hours pass and I'm starting to get close to my destination for the evening, the town known by the locals as fronteras but labelled on the roadsigns and maps as Rio Dulce.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Rio Dulce is a nice little spot set on the river between the vast mangrove swamps of the river it is named for. Its very popular with Yachties who are looking to get some dry land under their feet as the river is nearly sea level and completely navigable to the lake inland. [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I stay at a riverside marina/hotel by the name of Bruno's, its a little more expensive than expected at $14usd but the room is great and the balcony overlooks the small marina with the river in the background.[/FONT]

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[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I work on some ride reports and arrange to deal with my brake problem. Chris @ Dual-Star.com is a godsend. He finds my old stock brake rotor that I had left there at the beginning of the trip and with an address from me agrees to DHL the parts to Cancun for me so I can meet up with them in a week or so. THANKS CHRIS![/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Happy to have my brake issue somewhat sorted I wander the city looking for decent places for dinner that I was starting to feel I needed. I come across one place on the river that serves a mix of Pizza, Chinese and local dishes, its full of gringo sailors and the prices seem good so I sit down and enjoy the hustle and bustle of local river life.[/FONT]

Even though its Victoria "lager" it tasted like a million bucks today!

Dockside resuraunts are a staple of the town...

A few of the mentioned gringo sailors...

Bored waiting on my food...

Asked for a small, they made a large, payed for a small...

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Tomorrow I will check out the local Castle of San Filipe just outside of town before continuing towards the city of Flores and the Tik'al ruins.[/FONT]

 

[Jeckyll]

Great stuff.

Sucks about the rotor!