My Halloween Pic from the Monte Alban Museum in Oaxca, Mexico...I´ve been saving this one.
This is the view from the 2nd floor balcony at the Museum of Colonial Arts in Bogota.

This is a colonial artist set up that was staged at the museum in Bogota.

Panama Rewind

The Diablos Roja in Panama, a dying breed of artistic wonder on wheels.

This computer is really slow, and costs way too much....so there are more photos to come.

An interesting halloween...

Today has been an interesting day in Colombia. The problem is the Colombian Customs agency continues to have our motorcycles taken hostage. What it comes down to is, there are many men in positions with authority who decide on which laws are in place; and if the law is not in place, then they make one up. Over the last 6 days, we have been fed a number of stories from both the Panama side and here in Bogota. What still remains true out of it all, is that our bikes are still under their control.
This is hard for me, because my bike is my best friend, and it has been very difficult leaving it in the hands of people of whom I do not know and in two countries very far away from home.
So, today we have traveled through town arranging the details in order to have our bikes released from customs and legal to ride in Colombia. This includes:
1) A form filled out for customs over the temporary release of import for tourism.
2) Copies of passports and titles.
3) Our passports to be stamped and confirmed by customs for motor vehicle access.
4) The purchase and registration of a $160 import booklet that allows us to import and export through S. American countries (which is not required, but like I said, these men make it required), &
5) Specially made vests with our tag numbers printed on the front and back that are required to be worn at all times in Colombia when riding a motorcycle.
And not to mention, the 6 days of waiting in order to be able for this to actually happen. We will end up paying off two more men, just in order for the complete transaction to take place.
Therefore, I must make a rebuttal of a previous statement. Where I once said that it costs $550.00 US in order for you to ship a motorcycle from Panama to Colombia...it actually costs $900.00 US and an extra week. Be forewarned if you are planning a cross-continental trip through Colombia...DO NOT go through an agency; it is more trouble than what is actually needed.
So, while we were running around today, we noticed kids on the bus dressed in costumes for Halloween on their way to school. We even noticed grown adults in costume as well. I cannot say that today has been a complete failure...we have progressed on being able to release the bikes, I have eaten the best hamburger in Colombia at El Corral and I have not been taken away from the spirit of Halloween.
While in Bogota, we have been able to see a few things. The Gold Museum was closed due to reconstruction, however, we were able to go to the Museum for Colonial Arts and were able to see great pieces of work (mostly religiously based) from 1500 to 1800 AD. The art work in Bogota is actually quite extensive. There are a number of galleries located throughout the modern city, including the national gallery and the Museum for modern art. Besides the staged art work, there is a number of modern pieces scattered throughout the city on walls of old buildings. I took a few pictures of some of the better pieces that I had seen.
Which reminds me...speaking of artwork, there is a dying art that is spread throughout Panama that I forgot to mention. It is know as the ¨Diablos Roja¨or the ¨Red Devils¨, which are actually old american school buses that have been painted over with some of the finest art work by some of the finest artists Panama has to offer. The problem with the Diablo Rojas, is that they are going to all be taken out of commission next year when the nation is going to go to a more ¨reliable¨ transit system. This frustrates me, not only as an artist, but also as a middle class worker. Think of all the jobs that will be lost; the artists, the drivers, and the mechanics of these old school bus beaut´s. So, in dedication, I have included a few pictures of the Diablos Roja as well.
There is a lot of bureaucracy going on in central and south america. It seems that they want to move towards a new system that is more organized and universal, however, they have been working on old bargaining mechanics for so long, and in a very patriarchal way, that it seems to have stalled out. Nonetheless, there are many things along this path that I have taken, that seems to work well with their culture. Maybe it does take some extra action under the table, however, they have preserved the beauty of personal interaction between their societies that could very well be erased with a more universal system. In the end, it takes a little more time and a few more people...something that this uptight capricorn is not used to, but a little patience may be just what the doctor ordered.

Happy Halloween

Halloween is around us...

Halloween is around us, and the excitement is in the Bogotá air.
Walking through the grey wet cobble stone streets up at the large buildings, watching the beautiful people walk by with great luminous eyes, you can catch a glimpse of the jack-o-lantern in the store window.
Candies are sold at every street corner, and the next shop has costumes with printout faces of the Gerber baby for the manikin.
It brings great joy that i will not miss one of my favorite pagan holidays on this trip. i am very excited to be in Bogotá; the city reminds me of a busy European city filled with fashion, culture and attitude. Being the only blond in a town of 3 million, i am able to catch glimpses of the locals. i sneak in a sweat smile and look for a response...the majority being an open glaze of two brown piercing eyes. Although beauty is definitely the norm around Bogotá Colombia, i am only adding one picture with this Halloween special blog...it is the beautiful spook-tacular little dino called Elaina...my niece.

The Panama Canal (10-27-2007)

I visited the Panama Canal Yesterday...truly a modern marvel of the world, and I can be very proud of the American ingenuity that helped produce this amazing feat. However, after visiting the informative museum (the second of two canal museums in Panama City), waiting for ships at the Miraflores Locks is like watching your clothes dry. I will let the pictures speak for the rest of the visit.

The Miraflores Locks going from the Pacific ocean into Miraflores lake just north of Panama City. On the right, you see a ship entering the eastern canal lock...the process through the 50 mile Panama Canal takes about 24 hours...the locks around 1 hour. 8 hours to pass through the lakes, and another 15 in just waiting.


















You can see how far the boat drops in the lock (27 feet), in order to move into the next one. There are two new locks that they have just started on in 2006 (one on the Pacific side and one on the Atlantic) that will cost almost $6billion in order to allow large boats to travel through, helping the Panama Canal remain a major world transportation leader. The toll is payed for 2 to 4 days ahead of schedule; the cheapest toll being by Richard Halliburton who swam across the channel in the 1930´s for less than 40 cents. The most expensive toll was paid last year by a cruise liner of which paid over $250,000.00 to cross the canal.

Pics from Strolling through old Panama

The Panama Bay from the Fish Market...old boats pulled up on the shore, looking over the vast expanditure that makes up the city.
Inside the fish market in Panama City. I had a nice lunch upstairs from the market.
Government offices in the old Coloninial district of Panama City.
Kids playing on my walk back home.

Strolling in Panama City (10-26-2007)

So I decided to ditch the group and go off on my own for a little bit during the day, so that I could pick and choose my path through the city without having to think of others first. Call it selfish, but I really wanted to just relax.
I took off towards the old colonial district of Panama City along the Pacific, recognized for the historical significance through Spanish, French and American colonization. It is a mixture like tofu...some of the buildings stand firm and very nice, and others are crumbling do the ground, showing the curse of years of rain and neglect. It was quite interesting, much like Harlem, NY today, seeing the wealthy empire sit right next door to a poverished community.
I strolled by the government offices, known for their large protests back in the ´60´s and ´70´s when Panama was seeking independence from the United States. President Carter finally gave Panama rights to the area surrounding the Canal in ´77, but they did not receive full access of the canal until 1999. I walked through a few galleries and around the bay, and also visited one of the two canal museums.
The canal itself was started in the late 1800´s by the French, who then went bankrupt and gave up on the large task, selling the equipment and project to the Americans. We finally finished ahead of schedule in 1914, when the first ship crossed the canal from the Atlantic to the Pacific, connecting the world.
On the way back home, I was walking through a neighborhood on the northern side of the city, looking at the old buildings with steal bars over each window, and clotheslines connected from balcony to balcony. Kids were playing soccer in the streets, old women sitting on park benches talking, and men smoking cigarettes outside from the shops. I was walking in front of a major Fire station admiring the old school machinery, when I felt a quick firm pull on my backpack. I quickly spun around in self defense yelling profanity, and saw a skinny Panamanian young man jump back and run away. Just by looking around at the poverty in this community; a community that is run off of capitalistic influence and popular advertisements, while it´s citizens are struggling to eat but forced to live a ´high life,´ you can understand why something like this may happen. Luckily for me, I didn´t loose anything and I was surrounded by the public eye. One of the firefighters was nice, and gave me a ride back to the hotel. I did not let the situation affect the rest of my day; I simply looked at the reasoning behind the actions, realized the outcome, and prepared myself for situations in which it may be avoided. So...I bought a gun!
Just kidding...

Panama City

We made it into Panama City, yesterday afternoon (10-25-07), via over the Panama Canal (very impressive), and found the BMW dealership to get myself some new break pads. A gentleman from Panama driving a brand new GS1200 came up to us speaking English, and asked us to stay at his hotel in downtown Panama City for the motorcyclist discount of $10 per night. So without a do, we went to his hotel, and it has been very accommodating.
Today (10-26-07), we went to a travel agency that deals with shipping cargo out of Panama, and arranged for our bikes to be air freighted into Bogota, Colombia on Monday morning. It is going to cost us $550 US cash to ship the bikes, plus a couple hundred to fly ourselves over. As you can see, this is our most expensive part of the trip...besides the apartment in Buenos Aires that we have for the month of February (do I have any takers yet?). It is nice getting all of the cargo shipment arranged using an agent, because it could have been hell dealing with it ourselves at the airport. I am looking forward to reaching S. American ground.

From San Jose to Palmar Norte

Alternative Road due to Mud slides on the highway...this was the easy part of the rocky trail.
View from up in the mountains in Costa Rica, just before San Isidro de General.
Bungalos in Palmar Norte, Costa Rica (you are looking at the brits´ bikes ´86 R80 and ´07 GS1200Adv)

San Jose, CR pics

Metròpolitan Park in San Jose, Costa Rica
National Theatre in San Jose, Costa Rica

October 24, 2007

We had taken off from our bungalow early this morning, and road towards Panama with a stomach full of pancakes and black coffee...I was happy. We ended up being about 80 miles from the border, and a lovely border at that. After receiving so much hassle at the Nicaraguan border, we were not happy with the inconvenience of traveling through Central America. Luckily, the Panama border made up for it with a dramatic difference.
We were through the border in about an hour, and onto the Panamanian roads. The roads themselves in Panama are really nice...much smoother than most of the roads we have been on so far. The are covered...almost like going through a tunnel of palm and eucalyptus, full of tropical smells and humid moisture. Peaking through the palm trees, we saw a mountain stretching up into the sky on our left. Just in the middle of this large green rock was a 500 foot waterfall, poetically obeying gravity in it´s quest for the pacific.
The roads passed over many rivers, covered in white rocks, showing a sort of purity to the waters that passed underneath our motorcycles.
It was 120 miles into Santiago where we finally stopped for the day...at the Hotel Hacienda... a new hotel in the area with a very central American appeal. This is where I will rest my soar tail until getting back onto my horse and riding into Panama City tomorrow where we will load the mighty steeds onto a plain to Colombia.

October 23, 2007

We took off early from the hotel today in order to get a new battery for Lou at the BMW dealership in San Jose. The gentlemen at the dealership were incredibly helpful, and one of them even led us out of the city and payed for our toll on the highway. It was a pleasure doing business with them.
The ride was one of our best yet. We headed straight up into the mountains, climbing to about 9,500 feet when it started to rain on us. The temperature had dropped from 85 in San Jose to a cool and very wet 48 in the mountains. I am extremely thankful that I had my heated grip handles to keep my wet hands warm as we cruised through the mountain passes, hugging the curves and praying for sunlight.
As we descended into the valley, the temperature rose with each mile, and the sun began to peak out of the clouds. We headed into a town, I believe it´s name was San Isidro de General...it is a town of which I was warned by Meridith´s boyfriend Randal. Supposedly, this city is known for their women. They send their boys abroad to work, while keeping all of their girls home to do the same. We needed to refuel, so we headed into San Isidro for gas. When I pulled up to the pump, I noticed six girls in tight shirts sucking on Mamons (an interesting hairy like fruit that tastes like a grape). Interested, I told the nice young lady in the yellow top to please fill me up. Ten smiles, and a gas tank of fuel later, I paid the girl and left feeling a little ashamed. Nonetheless, I wanted to go back with an empty gas can and ask for more!
We carried on towards the coast on the Pacific side on a wonderful winding road that took us back through the mountains. The smells of fresh rain and tropical plants created an aura of bliss that swept me off my seat and carried me all the way down to the salt water smell of the ocean crashing into Costa Rica. The beaches were not very crowded as we passed them by. It was about 40 miles of riding by the ocean side, with mountains screaming at our left, covered in tropical horticulture and waterfalls, eagles coasting above my head so close that I can see the originality of spottiness they bare underneath their wings, and the ocean blue acting as a mirror of the wonderful warmth that she brought.
We started to travel inland as we were looking for a place to stay. We headed towards the town of Palmar Sur, passing by plantations of Palm trees aligned in perfect rows with irrigated ditches between. Looking inside the grove, it was a cool and very dark appearance; very foreign and curious to this Midwestern Anglo. Having to turn around and back track a little, we ended up finding a nice cabana to stay in, back up north in Palmar Norte.
I ended the night with a wonderful meal down at the local Restaurant...it was a traditional Costa Rican dish with Pasta Salad, Black beans, Potato Salad, Rice, and Salsa de Lengua (I´ll let you all figure that one out). It was quite splendid, and I have never tried that part of the cow before.

Walking the Streets of San Jose...

Today was an easy day. We did not leave San Jose, because Lou needed a new battery to make it through the trip and it will take 10 hours in order to charge it. Therefore, we will change out the battery in the morning and take off for Panama at around 9AM.
So this evening, I took it upon myself to walk down town and meet my friend Meridith who just had come back from KC. I know Meridith from the Canterbury house on Louisiana Street in Lawrence, KS. I actually lived with her sister Erin there, however, they both attended the Lutheran Campus Ministries there on Sundays where I cooked the evening meal.
Meridith is down here living with her boyfriend Randal on the outskirts of San Jose, and the both teach English. Randal has lived both here in Costa Rica, and in the United States where the majority of his family still resides.
So I took off into Central San Jose at around 5PM this evening, strolling through the park, looking at the sculptures and geese that roamed through the bamboo shade. I passed two soccer fields, a museum, and a monument before making it to one of the main streets headed into city centro. Walking down the street, I saw a number of fast food restaurants from Quiznos to KFC, Dollar Rent a Car, Banks, and Tourist information. As I went further, I bypassed the main hospital in San Jose; crowds of people lined through the door, creating a plethora of emotion in the lobby. I would expect that people had been waiting for hours to get any information at all...the crowd was amazing.
I kept walking down the street, and the business section turned into retail. Fashion from all over the world; assortments of designer shoes and purses to the latest soccer cleats and apparel. This town is certainly hip...beautiful young people surrounded me on all sides, all dressed in big city fashion, and all looking really good for a Monday evening. I was truly stunned by all of the beautiful people; on the bus, working in the retail stores, talking on the public phones, making out in the park, sitting outside the National Theater (where I met up with Meridith and Randal). I ended up walking all around Centro San Jose, through parks and around museums...where I actually met a few locals who ended up discussing my trip with me and telling me how wonderful Panama is going to be. They also taught me that if I am a gringo, then they are Tikos, and in Panam they are Panas or la P's. Good to know.
I met up with Meridith and Randal and we went for some cheap fried chicken and Ice cream. Truly hitting the spot and sparing some change for the bus trip home. We had a wonderful time catching up, and Randal was very helpful in giving me contacts for Panama City and Buenos Aires. I said goodbye, and watched the San Jose night through a sheet of glass down the Costa Rican streets. Beautiful people continued to get on and off the bus...I passed a soccer stadium and another museum...
Pura Vida en San Jose....Pura Vida.

Pics from San Jose

San Jose, Costa Rica

The Restaurant Neueva Tierra and with a wonderful duo who kept us entertained throughout the evening.
Four grown men fitting into the back of Manuel´s taxi cab.
Manual and I cruising into Club Atlantis...look at that grin, if we had only known what the hell he was getting us into.

Promised Pics...

Honduras: San Marcos

These are the lovely owners of ABC Mechanics, and they drove us around for an hour trying to find a battery for Lou´s bike. Wonderful help...¨must have been Salvadorian.¨ (Liz´s quote)

Granada, Nicaragua

Yellow Cathedral in Granada Center Square at morning.San Fransisco School Physical Education class outside the Cathedral in the Town Center.

Beautiful Nicaraguan Lady, meditating at day by the park bench, and dancing through the streets to a quick drum beat at night. She stands at about 7 feet 6 inches.
Construction artisan constructing pillars on a very old colonial building. Granada is the oldest colony city in Central America at over 500 years old.


More of the colonial style through the streets of Granada. The city itself is getting a make over, and this was an excellent example of a freshly coated masterpiece.
Outside the hotel, packing up for the trip into Costa Rica.

Jungle Fever with Fantastic Curves

Finishing up Granada, I felt wonderful. The colonial city, full of entertainment, cobble stone streets and wonderful Nicaraguan food, filled me with gaiety that I have not felt in a very long time. However, the warm feeling that have overtaken my joy suddenly disappeared, quite quickly, as we headed towards the Costa Rican border in terrible rains. The volcano caps were covered in wet clouds, the wind off the lake was bitter, and Costa Rica never sounded any better.
When reaching the border, our days suddenly turned for the worse. Overall it took over 4 and a half hours to get into Costa Rica. There is so much red tape and paper work that one must fill out in order to check out, check the bike out, stamp the pass port, check in, check the bike in and buy insurance. Not to mention, the work ethic down in Central America, much like I reported in Honduras, will make an uptight American Capricorn, like myself, want to get a gun and shoot at the temple. I thought the English Laboratories were bad, cutting off clinical tests for afternoon tea...Central American border authorities are a nightmare.
We finally made it though the border by 4 in the afternoon. The process started at half past 11. Riding into Costa Rica was not very impressive. The roads had flattened out, and while the sun was setting into Liberia, the rain had not stopped, preventing any sight seeing from the bike whatsoever. Finally getting to our hotel in Liberia was a blessing.
One good part of the trip two days ago, however, was that we picked up another rider from England named Reg. He had met Tim, the other Englander, back in the states when touring through. He just happened to catch up with our group while heading into the border. It was quite an experience; watching five soaked gringos go through Central American borders on gigantic mechanical mules and having every possible handler want to help you for cash tips.
The next day was better. We started off with a little breakfast and a stop at the ATM to update the currency. Riding into San Jose, singing the song in my head...do you know the way to...the rain had lightened up a little bit as we came through luscious green mountains covered with Tarzan-esque vines and greenery; I had finally made it to the tropics. And after being redirected by police because of a river taking over a bridge on the highway, the road circled around and landed directly next to the Pacific Ocean. Cool waves came crashing into the rocky shoreline; sailboats rocking out in the distance...it was a definite highlight...we had finally made it to the Pacific.
Climbing back up into the mountains from the coast was a journey. The roads were rough, because we had been redirected, and also very narrow. Traffic was a nightmare, and the rain made it even slower. Coming around corners, with very little room, we kicked it into second gear trying not to look off to the side into the 200 foot gaps. At least in London the tell you to mind the gap...on these roads it is only a welcoming cliff leap to a quiet and quick death. Luckily however, with the rain and being up in the mountains, we were once again above cloud level and the clouds filled in the valleys below. This did happen to take away the beautiful tropical scenery that makes up Costa Rica. Nonetheless, it helped calm some nerves as buses raced around corners coming right at you while you are dodging pot holes on the highway in the rain. On a dry day with those curves, it could have been an excellent bike path.
And then to make our day even more exciting...as we came to the off ramp that would lead us to our hotel in San Jose, I noticed that my bike was difficult to steer. I looked down, and happened to notice that I had a flat. My brand new Akon tire, with only 3,750 miles on it, had gotten a rip and leaked air.
Short note: because BMW went to a different wheel, where the spokes go out towards the edge of the rims and not in the middle, it allows them to us tires that are tubeless. Whereas, most bikes have the spokes go right to the middle and then use tubes to keep air in the tire. So my tire was punctured, and I was wet and upset.
So, in the middle of a rainy intersection, five wet gringos get off their bikes, pull out our tools and find out where the hole is. Another good part about it raining was, the leak was easier to find when the rain had bubbled up around it. So for the first time, I learned how to repair a flat tire on the road with one simple tool, a little bit of expandable material to plug it with, a razor blade, and a pump. 15 minutes and we were back on our bikes...not a half of a mile away from the hotel.
Our hotel is quite lovely. Yes, we come to Costa Rica to stay in a Best Western and Casino...but they have Internet, a washer and dryer (Thank God!), continental Denny's breakfast, and a free happy hour. Not to mention, the pool, jacuzzi and weight room were nice additions today.
Even though we were staying in a little piece of home, we received an excellent recommendation from the cocktail waitress on where to eat in San Jose. So me, feeling a little happy, called a taxi over and told all four men to limber up and squeeze their way into the back of this old taxi cab. The windows did not roll down, and it struggled very hard at intersections and hills to get anywhere; the windshield wipers were not doing any good, however, the taxi driver was very nice, and seemed to know where he was going. (I do have pictures of them all in the back seat...will add later). So we were dropped off at this lovely palm decored restaurant just on the outskirts of Centro de San Jose.
I had the chef special; Steak with coconut battered and fried Jumbo Shrimp, sauteed vegetables, and a nice sauce. The other gents had a surf and turf dish as well. It was definitely the best meal I have had so far, and well worth the money and effort to get out in the town.
On the way back to the hotel, our trusted driver Manuel, wanted to take us to a "wonderful" place called Atlantis. Atlantis was suppose to be a very nice club, where we could have a few drinks and meet very nice Costa Rican women. It was Manuel's top suggestion for what to do in Costa Rica. So I had him show us the place, and as we pulled up, a nicely dressed gentleman, with the Security piece in the ear, gracefully opened the door for us. A quick glimpse through the door and I noticed a long glistening pool. Manuel had taken us to a strip club....that sly bastard. We told him that we would come back tomorrow, and he finally took us back to the hotel. It was an exciting $35 dollar experience at that.
Today was relaxing. The pool, washing clothes, using the Internet, and now sitting hear listening to the afternoon rain that will carry on throughout the night. My friend Meridith from Lawrence, happened to go back to the US to renew her visa this weekend, so I really did not have the opportunity to go out in the town. However, tomorrow is a new day for exploration, and I will try to see a little more than Club Atlantis to fulfill my cultural story that has made my trip of Central America. And then it is off to Panama. One good ride and we will be down to the border, and with good luck, it will only take 3 hours this time.

First confrontation with the police....

Today we left Hotel Granada 30 minutes from the Nicaraguan border in Honduras after enjoying a wonderful nights sleep on a bed. Sleeping on a hard cold floor is not all it is cracked up to be. I really did enjoy my time in Honduras, and the terrain is excellent, however, it was time to move on.
At the hotel, we ran into another rider. His name is Tim, and he is from the Midlands in England. He is on his third worldly tour. He has been throughout Asia, and the Asian Pacific, as well as New Zealand and Australia. Each time he ships his bike across the seas. This time, he shipped his bike to Baltimore and took it across the states. He stopped at the BMW rally in Wisconsin before heading west. He then crossed the border into Canada and made his way up to Alaska, before turning around and coming down the Pacific coast. He eventually crossed the border into Mexico and took off through the Copper Canyon. He lost the guy he was riding with in Guatemala, and we just happened to catch up with him in Honduras.
So we are all traveling together now, and sharing a room in Granada, Nicaragua. A beautiful town with old colonial architecture that surrounds a large town square filled with flowers trees and gazebos overlooking the beautiful yellow cathedral at the north end. Granada sits on the bottom of Lake Nicaragua, the largest lake in Central America. The town itself, is crowded with tourists and kids in Language school. It is tempting to stay here longer than just tonight.
Today´s trip was beautiful. We hit some rain, however, we still missed a rather large thunderstorm that was brewing off to the west towards the Pacific. The road was very smooth coming into Nicaragua, 1000 times better than the pot hole infested tarmac that haunted us in Honduras. Lets not even go there. The country side was beautiful, and just when we were coming down out of the mountains, the sun peaked out from around the clouds, and a large glimmering blue lake appeared off in the distance....it was like watching a the dew drip from a leaf, early in the morning.
About 20 kilometers out of Granada, we had to turn off to the left. There was a stop sign, so we stopped to wait for traffic. At the corner, two police officers, stopped the traffic in the right away to let us come through. So our lead man Landon started to move forward. The cops made up a two man check point, which is very frequent all throughout Central America, and we have never had problems with them before. They asked us to pull over, which is usually not a big deal....we figured that they just wanted to make sure we had all of the paper work...of which we did.
So they start to look at Landon's papers and then, one of the officers tried to tell Landon that he did not stop at the stop sign. It was ridiculous, because we stopped twice, and waited for him to stop traffic from the other two directions in the T intersection. So we were all over on the side trying to explain to them that Landon was our best driver, and that is why he is up front...and that we were being especially careful because that is what is required to make it all the way to Argentina and back from the US. The cop wasn´t really having it, which was a shame, because he was a silly young twerp just trying to get some money out of some gringos. The second cop was not doing anything...he was standing back just asking about our trip and the motorcycles. So while the cop was trying to write up a citation, Tim was asking me if they were just trying to get some money out of us, using the international thumb and forefinger rub as the signal. The cop saw Tim motion to it and looked in appeal thinking he may have been getting somewhere.
This is when Lou stepped in.
Lou first asked me to write down the jerk officer´s badge number, which I did, and on my arm so he could not take it away...or at least not very easily and incredibly inconveniently. When I did that, the officer gave Landon back his papers and Passport. Then Lou went on to tell them that he was a Pastor and that we were coming to Granada to visit some companions for a month. He assured the officers that he was friends with the Bishop, and that the Bishop had invited us to his resort Ranch on the lake. A month in Granada would have been plenty of time to use the local clergy to contact the police administration and have this officer court martial. So both of the officers then stood back. Leave it up to a Pastor to lie his way out of sticky situations.
As we were getting back on our bikes, the friendly officer comes up to Lou and says, ¨El Senor, esa con Ustedes.¨ (May God be with you) Lou turns back at the officer, and with a grinning shrug he replied, ¨hey, that is my line.¨
We left the officers behind, Landon still in the lead, being sure to follow the speed limit and stop three times at each sign for the last 20 kilometers into Granada. When we had come into town, we saw a sign for Centro de Historico and took a right heading toward the town square. Out of the blue, a large man in a collared shirt came stumbling drunk into the street screaming ¨motor¨ and headed right at Landon. Poor Landon, as if he hadn´t had enough with the cops behind him, he had to deal with the town drunk too! So he swerved to miss the guy, and the guy jumped right back into him, grabbing onto the side mirror, twisting it around, and then grabbing onto the back of the bike, almost knocking Landon on his side. So I yell at the guy, and he jumps back startled and backs away. What a day...
We found a really nice hotel, a blend of old colonial Spanish style with a modern twist. The receptionists were lovely and Landon has his Wifi signal. We swept the streets, passing all sorts of tourist trapping dining establishments, before seeing some woman cooking off on a sidewalk on a side street with a man tending to the grill. It was an interesting set up, where the tables were inside and the kitchen was outside, however, it was the only thing on the street that looked Nicaraguan....and that actually looked worth eating. So we sat down and asked for a menu, the lady said no menu, just traditional Nicaraguan food. This was the right place to eat. You had a choice of chicken, pork, or beef, and then a choice of grilled, steamed or fried Plantains. It came with a coleslaw...and in a heaping portion. It was absolutely wonderful. Two big beers later with a full stomach, Granada was looking so much better in my eyes. I am so alive...thanks to a Preacher with a few tricks under his robe.

Landon and Lou riding through the mountains of Honduras.
The kids meditating at the end of the day.
Class photo #4.

Hey Mister...

Today is our third day in San Marcos, Honduras, visiting with my friend Liz from Pierpont´s restaurant. She is down here teaching third grade at a private school. Half of the classes are in English, and they are pretty good I may add, and the other half in Spanish. They kept coming up to me saying, ¨hey mister,¨and showing off something new.
The kids are brown, with tear dropped eyelids, and sweet smiles. They act just like the kids that I used to tutor in Lawrence, at the Quail Run Elementary school. We had a wonderful day, and I gave them somewhat of a geography lesson as I discussed my trip with them. They were very excited, and want me to return on the way back through. We ended the day with yoga and meditation, before gathering their things and getting together for a picture. I truly commend Liz for here work, it is not easy teaching this age group in two languages, half way around the world, in a third world country. She is doing an excellent job.
The weather has been very nice here. It rains at night, which kicks up the humidity during the day. It is probably in the 90´s right now, and we expect the same further south. It is suppose to be raining in Nicaragua, and we are expecting more mudslides. We saw quite a few in Guatemala from the last hurricane, so we are prepared and moving carefully. I am excited to get to Lake Nicaragua in two days, it is suppose to be amazing.
Honduras is different. It is the poorest country in the western world and can be very difficult to come to as an outsider. The people are very nice, however, they don´t seem to be very excited or proud of their lives and heritage. The country is in a slump, the president has been stealing tax dollars, the roads and transportation is terrible, there are few jobs, poor city utilities (the water is off from 6AM to 4PM every day, and the electricity goes off because the money the president stole was for the electrical supply of the country), and it is just kind of sad. The school today was trying to teach the kids about Honduran pride and standing up for the protection and growth of the country, however, the kids did not seem to really respond. National pride is extremely different when compared to what may be seen in Mexico for example.
Nonetheless, the kids are still playing and smiling, cows still roam the sides of the roads, dogs through the streets at night, and I even saw a woman on the bus yesterday to Santa Rosa with a live chicken in her bag. They call them Chicken Buses!
Honduras does have beautiful country sides, giant mountain tops and rich Mayan culture. It will be interesting to see the difference of culture and economics as we move into Nicaragua.
Ending off my afternoon, I was gathering my things together to head to the Internet cafe. One by one, the kids came by with their backpacks, smiling and telling me ¨goodbye mister.¨

Today was a beautiful day...it didn´t rain on us at all.

We took off from Lago de Atitlan at around 8:30 riding on CA2 here in Guatemala lined in fields of Sugar Cane, and made it to Guatemala city by 11:30. The sugar cane actually looked like grass, only it was 10 feet high in the air and made me feel like I was taken back into the movie aura of ¨Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.¨ It took us about 2 hours to get through the city, and what a trip that was. There are no bypasses in Guatemala City, people actually head to the capital to go to the capital, not to go through it. So we were twisting and turning through the streets of this earthquake tortured town, asking for directions over and over again. It is actually a very nice city, if you try not to think about all of the smog that we were taking in on the ride through it.

This is one major difference between riding on a motorcycle and riding in car. The smells are ever present when you are on a bike. I took in the aromas of everything from pig dung to fresh flowers today on our ride, and it was all wonderful; because it did not rain a drop.

About 80 miles west of Guatemala city, we turned south towards our destination of Chiquimula. It is a wonderful city, full of life and culture. The people are fantastic, outgoing, and incredibly helpful. I bargained for a tamale this evening, and I think I got it down to around 30 cents.
Bargaining is a part of life down here. If you don´t try and haggle on the streets, they think you are just ignorant of their culture, and take your money with disrespect. So with some sweet blue eyes and a big Sean Tucker smile, I was able to get the young receptionist to get our room price down to 150 Quetzales, or around $21 for the night. I still got it!

The picture of the cathedral above with the mountains in the background, was taken from the balcony of the hotel over looking the town square. The other picture was from our hotel this morning in Atitlan, just when the sun peeked out from behind the mountain side.

Tomorrow we are heading into Honduras into and area called Octoepeque, filled with hiking trails and wonderful national parks. A friend, Liz from Pierpont´s in KC is currently living there and teaching English to kids at a school. So, I was planning on stopping in and playing guest speaker so the kids can laugh at me, and I can hand out Jayhawk stickers and convert them all to the crimson and blue.

I miss you all.

Pictures....

Western Guatemala on a very rainy day, headed towards Lago de Atitlan
Trying to find our way to Atitlan using the back roads, only being blocked by a truck on a very dramatic decline. That is Lou waiting for the truck to be backed up. Missing are lots of cute kids running around giggling at us gringos.
View from our hotel in Atitlan of the lake. You are looking at the rooftops of the houses next to the hotel, warming up for breakfast this morning.
This is one of the volcanos that helped make Lago de Atitlan

This is the street out front from our hotel in Atitlan.

Guatemalan Boys

I must admit, today was a grueling day. It has been raining for the last three days, and nine hours on a bike each day in pouring rain can be tough. If it were not for the amazing views, and constantly climbing up into the clouds, I may have wanted to stop earlier.
Yesterday, we crossed into Guatemala at around 3, and had to deal with checking out of Mexico (both ourselves and our bikes), and then checking both ourselves and our bikes into Guatemala. The entire process took about an hour, and cost around $13. There was a guy at the border that must have been the brother in law of the sheriff, because he ripped off $6 a piece to wash our tires before we could enter into the country. Some scam that the government lets happen. Oh well, nothing we can do about it.
It was raining pretty hard when we crossed, so we were quick to find a hotel. It turned out to be very nice, and cost about $12 a piece. The owner is an old truck driver whom lived in the states for over 10 years driving a semi. i am guessing, with his earnings, he started up this hotel. He had all of his little daughters or nieces working for him, and a guy with a rifle hanging out in front. You would all be surprised in how old wild west this country is, lots of them are packing. Nice guy, and nice place.
We took off the next morning and headed on to a little village outside of Solola on a lake in central Guatemala, just southwest of Guatemala city. Once again, it rained on us all day and we were dripping coming into the hotel tonight. We tried some back roads, which were not really roads, but cattle pathways. Landon got stuck, and Lou´s bike died. I was rocking it out on my R100GS, and loving it, but we ended up turning around and going back to the highway. Lou´s bike started up with a push start, and we are going to work on the wiring tomorrow to see if we can get some more charge to the starter.
We finally made it into Santiago Atitlan on Lago Atitlan, dripping. We had a glass of Pinch and headed on into the town square for Tacos, grilled Pollo, and Papas Fritas. We found a Cyber cafe afterwards to check our meals, which lead me to these young Guatemalan boys.
I saw like 7 of these boys all huddled around a computer, eyes glued to the screen and all of them, laughing and giggling. I was obviously curious, so I took a closer look.
Go figure, these Nacho Libre Lovers were watching wrestling videos from the American WWF film clips. I was interested, so I looked a little closer, and this clip had a chick out in the crowd flashing the wrestlers. They were looking at boobs! Ohh, these Guatemalan boys.

Monte Alban pyramid for astronomy
Monte Alban view from above
South of Oaxaca on the tip of the Sierra Madres
Valley view from the highway in the Sierra Madres
The Clinical Lab Scientists in the town of Tehuantepec that were very nice to give me a tour and answer questions. Who would have known that Denge Fever was such a problem?

Riding in the clouds

We woke up early today, to the sound of buses and three wheeled motor carts that parading through the city of Tehuantepec. Lou and I went down to the market to fetch some coffee and pan in order to get ready for the long ride ahead. Tehuantepec is 200 feet above sea level, and about 30 minutes from the Pacific. How tempting that may sound, we were destined to head back inland to San Cristbol de Las Casas, a historic town full of colonial architecture and beautiful tourists.
The ride was our best yet. It may have rained on us for around 1/3 of the trip, and my boxer shorts were very wet by the end, not to mention a very sore ass; however, the Sierra Madres today had taken us up to heaven and back. On the way, we saw everything from oxen driven wagons to high tech wind turbans providing energy to the power grid of Chiapes. What a wonderful ride. After passing the capital of Chiapes, we quickly climbed up to 6000 feet were the indigenous inhabitants of this very green land live and love. As we climbed through the wet and cool climate, we moved up into a dense cloud hovering through the clouds. Looking off the cliff sides along the road, all we could see was a dense fog. How many people can say they road their motorcycles in the clouds? Not to mention, along the way, we saw beautiful women in hand woven cloth of purple, turquoise, green and blues with intense needle point carrying the freshly cut tree limbs to start the oven for tonight's meals. Men climbing the mountain sides with saws, cutting the wood for tonight's meals, and children parading side by side, down the side of the highway, going home from a day at school above 5500 feet. Only angels think of such beauty, yet me and my best friend (aka my R100GS BMW motorcycle) had the amazing opportunity to see such beauty.
As we made our descent from the heavens down to about 4500 feet into San Cristobal de Las Casas, we were happy to find a wonderful hotel in the center square of the city, overlooking a city so alive and so wonderful, that we could almost imagine the fiestas with wondrous food and salsa dancing happening just 300 years ago, just outside from our balcony. How alive I feel right now, how rejuvenated, how majestic. I am alive.

October 9, 2007

Today we woke up in Oaxaca and took off around 9 AM in order to go up to Monte Alban, and old Azteck ruin west of the city. It was an unbelievable sight, hundreds of years of work to build stone into the heavens so that a very few would be able to enter an afterlife. It reminded me a lot of the pyramids in Egypt, only without the mountains. The structures themselves rose up to a hundred feet in the air, over looking a valley where every whisper was echoed onto the mound, as if any battalion would have a chance. I was trying to put myself back in those times, walking around without shoes, caring stones over intense mountain sides and miles from origin. The life that must have been in those times had to have been both majestic and treacherous at the same time. The day was beautiful and the experience was beyond the skin and mind.
After the tour, we took off into the Sierra Madres, on another 5 hour trek through amazing curves and wonderful spectacles, that only God herself could have sent down for us to see. The tour was only 200 kilometers, but it had so many wild turns and valleys that we had to take it slow. Not to mention, we were right in the middle of Mezcal, the land of Mezcal my friends! Agave plants lined the valleys and mountain sides, parading our journey in green projection, with perfect design and wonderful smokey taste. The sight was absolutely amazing. We landed in Tehuantepec at around 4, found a quaint hotel and a wonderful dinner to end a perfect day. What a wonderful life.

Hotel in Oaxaca, on the inside we stashed our bikes between the rooms, our room was on the second floor, first window on the right.
Oaxaca in the morning, looking up at a Church in el centro.
Oaxaca in the morning. The temperature is around 65 degrees and fresh.
El centro de Oaxaca. This is the town square, where we ate our Mole the night before. Our hotel was located a few blocks north of here.

Octoer 9th

Today`s ride went through the mountains south of Cuernevaca on our stretch down to Oaxaca. The ride took about 9 hours, going through curvaceous mountains full of greenery and rock scaling. The rocks changed with elevation, from a red sandstone to a limestone and a darker shaded stone as well. South of Cuernevaca, there were cacti springing out 40 feet in the air, just stretching out for sun (or as Ned Flanders from the Simpson`s would say, ¨closer to God.¨) On the way down, there was an old ghost mining town that used to be very rich back in the day, and they had built this amazing church; something you may see in a major European city, with walls scaling over 100 feet in the air, with painting covering walls and golden trip all around. The church was abandoned years ago, however, now the region is coming forth with money to restore this massive Cathedral.


The ride was wonderful, lots of turns, ups and downs. Just before riding into Oaxaca, I crossed the 2000 mile marker of my trip. It is funny to think of how much farther I must go.


Tomorrow we will go in to Monte Alban, just outside of Oaxaca before riding down the Pacific coast. In two days we will cross into Guatemala, a completely different story. For tonight, it was Mole de Oaxaquiena con pollo. Absolutely delicious.