South America 2008

We’ve been riding on some pretty nasty stuff and the bikes shake quite a bit on their own being one-cylinder engines. Screws have been falling out of both bikes since we got them and we go over them once in a while to tighten them up. Still, we’ve lost some.

About 2000 miles into our trip I noticed that my GPS holder was broken and that the GPS unit itself had cracks all over the case. The battery-lid was broken and is now held in place by duct-tap.

On the road to hell (the road to San Carlos, Nicaragua) my left case damn-near fell off after I had bottomed out the rear suspension for the n-th time. I guess my load is too heavy… anyway, the left case is sort of useless now, I managed to bend back the bendt parts but the case just won’t fit like it used to. Luckily I brought a duffel-bag with me so I re-packed all of my stuff, placing most of it in the duffel, threw away some things I had not used yet and strapped the duffel to my bike using rope.

The fancy hard cases are now nothing more than dead weight and I would like to just toss them… but it’s hard to do because they were expensive.

If I had to do it over I would not get hard cases at all, I would get a larger duffel-bag and some straps, that’s it! It’s cheap, it’s light-weight, it’s simple, it can be fixed anywhere in the world without special equipment. Duct-tape and zip-ties!

On that same road, The Road To Hell, it seems my steering-stem nut has shaken loose and my front forks are now producing these awful ‘clunck’ noises when I go over bumps. I hope to have that fixed tomorrow when we meet with an American KLR owner living nearby Boquete. I hope the bearings are still OK!

Oh, and my sunglasses broke too!

Not to worry, all is well!

Walking down from the house under construction to the existing farmhouse

Every time we had a meal we ate outside and the farm dogs would come to stand with these pathetic beggar faces waiting for scraps. They were well behaved and didn’t try to jump on you or anything. They just stood and waited. Of course, it worked and they got food from us. Come on, look at ‘em.

This mama had the best beggar face I had ever seen in my life. You’re not human if you can look at this face directly and not feel anything. She was just skin and bones and an udder working at full capacity feeding ten puppies. She can’t even stand here begging without having little ones taking milk from her.

There are two ways to cross the border from San Carlos, Nicaragua to Los Chiles, Costa Rica. One is to take a small boat from San Carlos on a 90 minute trip through the jungle. The other way is to drive 30-60 minutes east of San Carlos, catch a large ferry that can take trucks and cars across the river and take a road for about 14 km to Los Chiles. The problem with that crossing is that you need to get special permission. Unfortunately for us, we weren’t able to get it.

The pictures in the last post showed what a pain in the ass this was but, hey, it’s all part of the adventure. (I got some great video footage of Roar riding his bike down the narrow customs hallway with people smashing themselves against the walls trying to make room.) At the dock, the guys had to lower the bikes a few feet down to water level and then manhandle them on the boat. Roar’s bike was first onto the front. Then they turned the boat around to load mine stern. All this time the boat was full with passengers watching this spectacle. I think most were entertained, some irritated at the delay, and some just didn’t care either way.

I hoped that the unloading would be a little easier but it wasn’t. We were able to get Roar’s bike off fairly easy, just off onto the concrete dock and four of us pushing it up a flight of steep stairs (only about ten of them).

Mine was tough. They backed the boat up to a dirt bank. It was a lot tougher then it should have been because they unloaded the bike back end first. In retrospect it would have been much easier to rotate the bike in the boat so that it came out front first onto the bank.

The four of us heaved and ho’d that bike, bit by bit off the boat. One guy helping us lost his balance and fell completely into the water. Another older guy started hypervenilating and I was afraid he would have a heart attack. My boots are waterproof but not if the water gets in from the top.

We finally worked the bike out and turned it around. I started it up and rode it up the bank and got air as I cleared the last curb to land on the street. I gave the two locals a $20 tip for their help. I think that they might have needed the money to dry clothes and for possible medical aid.

Note to Motorcyclists: There is a place at the Penas Blancas border crossing on the Pan Am highway where you can get insurance right away. There isn’t one in Los Chiles. The customs official was extremely helpful and faxed our documents to the guy at Penas Blancas. We then had to wait about four hours for him to arrive with the paperwork.

No big deal, we spent the night there in quiet little Los Chiles and headed down to the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica the next day.

We’re happy in the back of a pickup-truck that gave us a ride from the hot-springs in Gracias, Honduras. They saved us from a 90 minutes walk in pitch-dark wilderness after our taxi abandoned us.

Riding through some new highway construction. We’ve done a lot of miles on this sort of stuff and I’m sure the new highway will be just super when it’s done.

We ran into the Swedes again while stopped in the middle of new highway construction. We went over the maps and got some tips on where to go.

Detour through the forest because the bridge doesn’t exist yet.

We finally made it to Tegucigalpa for some beers and beer snacks. Ulrich had promised they would serve us Guinea pig but all we got was chicken and other normal meats. I guess the new owner has a heart.

Since we didn’t know how to get to the hotel except for which direction to go we got stuck in a dead end and had to hop on the sidewalk and cross this section of a walking-only street. We got stuck on the other side because of some cars and trucks and got busted by the cops. “Don’t do it again…” was all they said before the helped us get through.

Bikes parked at Ulrich’s farm.

View from our sleeping area

Our sleeping accomodations. The beds were hard for sure and the animals wake you up at around 5 in the morning.

At El Jobo junction (population guesstimate in the 50′s). We went there for beer and ice and chilled out with one before heading back. The dog was chilling like no other we’ve seen.

Puppies at the farm

On our way from the farm to Managua

Wonderful Santos in Managua. I highly recommend it.

Olvar’s last night out, we shared a couple of bottles of Nicaraguan Flor de Caña Rum which Nicaraguans claim is the best in the world.

Grenada by Lake Nicaragua. 1 HP in the background… probably 40+ HP up front

Andy and friends

The road from Managua to San Carlos… the last 78 miles were kind of bad… this is a photo of the absolute best part

Andy is very proud of his new Machete!

Up the Rio Frio for our Jungle-Tour

One guy is a real ranger, the other guy is just pretending with his never-used show-off Machete

Killer-ants the size of beetles crawling up my leg. We were told 5 bites would kill you.

Andy getting his bike through customs the Adventure Way ™

First my bike is loaded on to the front of the boat

Then Andy’s is loaded up aft almost crushing the outboard motor

A 90 minute boat ride with our bikes on board, my bag with most of my stuff on it is kind of hanging over the side just attached by a rope with a knot I did.

Stuck at customs in Los Chiles, Costa Rica because we don’t have insurance. Apparently people don’t really cross from Nicaragua to Costa Rica here with motorcycles from California.

Oh, on the way out from Managua the cops stopped us for crossing over the solid yellow line to pass a truck. There are tons of checkpoints throughout the country and we’ve only been stopped before throughout Latin America so that the cops could check out our documents or the bikes or both.

This time the cop saw us cross the line and he ran out into the middle of the highway to stop us. I followed the advice from other people on the motorcycling forums and just sat there on my bike and played dumb and said no entiendo a bunch of times. It worked. The two cops tried and tried to explain the violation and the whole process of a multa (fine or infraction, I think) but they eventually tired of the frustration. We got our licenses back and went on our way. If we had done something dangerous or really wrong I would have understood and went along with it but passing people on the highway under any conditions is completely normal. Besides, unlike most others we’re pretty safe in our passing.

On to the dirt road to San Carlos…on the red line on our map it showed 125 kilometers (about 78 miles). We started at 2pm and the road quickly deteriorated. Big holes, whoopties, gravel, lots of rocks. At first I flew over this stuff, it was like fun riding out in the California desert. But then I saw the sharp rocks and I bottomed out a few times when I got air on the little jumps. I thought about the bikes and how they need to last the whole trip. I thought about the possibility of puncturing a tire and was more worried the farther we went as it looked more and more primitive.

So, we slowed the pace down but it was already kind of too late for Roar’s baggage. It had suffered some damage earlier and the difficult road and the constant pounding brought the moment of reckoning much more quickly. Roar noticed that the case was bouncing off the frame and had to stop to readjust everything so that the cases were empty. He put everything in a duffle bag and a backpack and strapped it to the tail. It’s pretty much the same set up as the Swedes and it’s genius. Simpler is better and I plan on doing this for the next motorcycle adventure. Everything in one large duffle bag strapped to the tail of the bike.

Advantages: duffle bag weighs just a few pounds, our hard cases and frame weighed 35 pounds….easy to take off and carry to the hotel room…bikes are narrower for easier passing….indestructible hard cases are not in reality but how do you really break a duffle bag?

The sun started getting lower and we knew that we only had a short time before it turned dark and it SUCKS to drive at night on unfamiliar roads in unfamiliar conditions. Plus, if you have a mechanical problem or a flat tire, everything is complicated when you can’t see. In the race against the coming darkness we got flagged down by two excited campesinos.

I know, Lucila, you said never to stop for anybody trying to stop you on the back roads because that is how they ambush and rob you. But I made a judgement call. The people in that area seemed very friendly and it wasn’t too isolated. The guys spoke so rapidly to me and in such an accent that I could only understand the words “bolsa” (bag) and “bicicleta” (bicycle). We continued riding and a couple of hundred yards later another guy flagged us down. This time I made out bolsa and autobus and he pointed down the road. A bus had passed us a few miles back during one of our breaks. Now, it made sense. He had forgotten his bag on the bus and needed help getting it.

I motioned to him to get on the back of the bike and he did. He just hopped right top of my bags so he didn’t even have a real seat. Mr Toad’s Wild Ride commenced as I hauled ass trying to catch up to the bus. We jumped across ditches, bottomed out several times, and were passing onlookers with their mouths wide open. Nobody rides like that out there. Heck, there aren’t any bikes out there big enough to do it. Roar told me later that he thought that the guy was gonna fall off the back since his butt came off the back about a foot a couple of times.

After a few minutes, we got sight of the bus and I slowed a bit because I knew that we would catch it. I’m sure he appreciated it. We stopped the bus and the guy hopped off and gave a nice thank you. Knowing we still had a bunch of miles to go, I nodded to him and we took off. That bag must have had some important stuff for him to consider riding with me but maybe he didn’t know what he was in for. At least he’ll have a great story like I’ve got.

We didn’t make it to San Carlos by nightfall. The last half hour or so was in the dark. We slowed down because it was tough to see. We hit one narrow section that worried me but that was it and we rolled into San Carlos. It had some of the friendliest people we’ve seen on the trip. People went out of their way to give us directions and even the kids were fun and interested in us. I let some sit on the bike while I held it straight up and they loved it.

The next day (Tuesday) we went on a jungle tour. It was a small tour, just us and two backpackers, one American and one Israeli. The highlight was seeing spider monkeys and white faced monkeys climbing and jumping from tree to tree. I bought a machete right before we headed out and I broke it in on some inconsiderate plants that were in my way. That machete is now strapped to the back of my motorcycle and for me it completes the image of the adventure motorcyclist…actually, a shotgun would be pretty cool now that I think about it….

Last Thursday, we left Esteli with the Swedes and headed out to Ulrich’s farm, which is located about 30 minutes east of Matagalpa, Nicaragua.

He has a working farm whose main focus is cattle. This farm was Nicaraguan style where the animals and humans coexist. The main farmhouse was a simple wooden structure with no electricity and minimal plumbing. The animals were welcome on the first floor and I had never been to a farm with so much activity. Chickens, dogs, puppies, cats, turkeys, pigs, cows, they were everywhere and they were always talking their animal languages about God knows what. So much for a peaceful time at the farm since these guys were always talking, crowing, fighting, or eating together. It was nuts. You’d sit in one place and see all sorts of animals just meander and pass by doing what animals do. Puppies would tear at your socks, then wrestle each other, if one got too close to a hen and her chicks she would peck him on the nose. It was straight comedy sometimes and as Ulrich says, “It was kind of fun”.

The only quiet time we had was at night when we sat atop Ulrich’s unfinished concrete home atop a small hill and had some beers. We spent the night on hard beds on an open air balcony and woke up with the animals (how can you not?) at about 6 am.

We left the farm to do some riding on some pretty cool dirt tracks that Ulrich knew. Roar had his first river crossing and almost lost it. He hit the throttle a little too hard and had water splashing over his helmet. I almost lost it, too, but Roar’s crossing was much more spectacular.

We found a spot to stop so that we could do a little hiking in the rainforest. I can’t remember if we spotted some monkeys on this hike or not but we saw howler monkeys and spider monkeys by a river on the farm the day before.

Some more challenging dirt riding and another river crossing, which Roar and I aced and we left the jungle.

We headed with the Swedes to Managua and had a great weekend. The nightlife was a lot of fun.

On Sunday, Roar and I headed out to a well known toursty town called Granada on Lake Nicaragua. It was great to go for a ride on the bikes without any bags and with only tshirts and jeans.

I made a friend named Raquel through MySpace. On Sunday, Raquel and her friend showed us a nice little ride to Los Cruceros. At the top we could view the Pacific Ocean but it was windy as hell and reminded me of Baja California. On the way back we got a great view of Lake Nicaragua….

The popular border crossing to Costa Rica is on the Pan Am highway which runs along the west side of Lake Nicaragua. Looking for a little adventure and wanting to get off the beaten path  we headed on monday morning to San Carlos. The first part of the ride reminded me of Baja again. Kinda brown, dry vegetation, a lot of wind, and nice curvy asphalt. That changed when we turned south towards San Carlos. Bumpy, hard, rocky, dirt road for a hundred miles…..

Sometimes our maps are way off. A red line turns out to be a beautifully paved road. Other times a red line is this crap. Actually, I loved it. It was the California desert with whoopties but boring because it was so straight. There’s a little more to tell on this part but I’ll leave it for next time.

Thanks Alexis for the comment. Thanks to everybody else who has posted as well. It’s nice to get feedback….

It was great riding with the Swedes yesterday through Honduras. It’s always fun riding in a group and it reminds me of riding bicycles with a gang of friends when you were a kid. The variety of riding was incredible…we started on cobblestone (my favorite), then dirt (including this powdery fine dirt that’s like soft sand in that short detour we had to take; I almost wrecked!), then beautiful, smooth pavement up and down mountains and across valleys. After that we had hard highway riding, dealing with typical Central American traffic, passing hundreds of cars, trucks, buses, on the right, on the left, however we could. Finally, the capital of Honduras, which I still can’t pronounce (Teguchigalpa, I think). Man, I’ve driven in some pretty wild and crazy places in a car but I’ve never ridden a motorcycle through this. In and out of traffic, lane splitting (those hard cases turned out to be too wide and a detriment; the Swedes had a much easier time), jumping up curbs onto sidewalks, riding through pedestrian only streets. By the time I was done, I was completely soaked in sweat and I felt like my personal temperature guage was well past the red line.

After a couple of beers with Roar and the Swedes, though, I felt better and could appreciate the experience.

We left Tegus around noon and headed to Nicaragua. Beautiful paved roads. The best part was the road from the border at Las Manos south into Nicaragua.

(I almost killed another bird; in Guatemala a yellow and black bird flew across the road and slammed into my visor, which I’m pretty sure killed him; this time some lazy, black bird floated across the roadway and I had time to duck my head and miss him….crazy)

We arrived in Esteli where we met up with the Swedes to talk about our plans. Early night for all of us tired folk.

The plan is to go out to the farm that Ulrich owns tomorrow. Then Friday we head to Managua for a weekend of fun…..