Bogota

A man looks out over Bogota Colombia from the Transferico cable car that gives tourists and locals a view of the city from the top of a nearby mountain. Photo: Alex Washburn

A man looks out over Bogota Colombia from the Transferico cable car that gives tourists and locals a view of the city from the top of a nearby mountain. Photo: Alex Washburn

Riding into Bogota, the capital of Columbia, was nothing like I expected. A few days earlier we had cruised into Bucaramanga, which you enter via mountain roads that give a view of the entire city as you crest them. This is what I expected when coming into Bogota, a city of 6.73 million people, but as Alex and I entered the city the limits, the city only slowly grew up around us.

In what reminded us of LA, and to a lesser extent Sacramento, Bogota is expansive, a main city built years ago that was expanded in the following decades. LA is 503 square miles, and Bogota is 613, which should give you an idea of how far it stretches. In a normal city the streets from north to south and east to west will be labeled Calle and Carrera, think street and avenue, and wont normally go past twenty or thirty. At the beginning of where Alex and I started we were at Calle 222, and we needed to get to Calle 9.

A group of tourists checks out a display at the Museo de Oro (Gold Museum) in downtown Bogota. Photo: Alex Washburn

A group of tourists checks out a display at the Museo de Oro (Gold Museum) in downtown Bogota. Photo: Alex Washburn

Bogota brings together quaint neighborhoods, dirty trash heaps, museums, universities, street vendors, and churches in a way few other capital cities we have visited do. In La Candelaria, where our hostel was located (side-note: Musicology Hostel is one of the best hostels we have stayed at on this trip. The staff are friendly, the vibe is chill, and you can park a motorcycle in the entrance!) is the historic old town, full of churches and museums. It has a smaller town feel, until you ascend the church on Monserrate and get a full view of the city and how far it reaches.

While there could be many associations with Bogota, the City of Museums should be one. Within a six block radius of our hostel, there were at least five museums, and probably more that I am not aware of. There is the Military Museum, the Botero Museum, but the most prominent would be the Gold museum, which show cases gold workings from all over Colombia and easily has over 6,000 pieces on display. It can get a little overwhelming by the end and there are three sold floors of exhibits to peruse, though I was told Pablo Escobar’s gold Harley Davidson would be there and was slightly disappointed when I didn’t see it.

Alex being a photojournalist wanted to go to Club Gallistico and take photos. Club Gallistico is one of the oldest cockfighting establishments in the city and she'll be doing a full post for that on her personal photoblog. Here a rooster waits to have fighting spurs attached to his feet. Photo: Alex Washburn

Alex being a photojournalist wanted to go to Club Gallistico and take photos. Club Gallistico is one of the oldest cockfighting establishments in the city and she’ll be doing a full post for that on her personal photoblog. Here a rooster waits to have fighting spurs attached to his feet. Photo: Alex Washburn

Bogota is located in a high plateau situated in the Andes mountain range, which means that it was a bit on the cold side even though it is middle of summer in South America. What helped to take the chill off was a local dish to the region, hot chocolate with cheese and bread with butter. We were a bit confused on how to eat the dish and ended up just dipping the cheese in the hot chocolate and nibbling on it only to find out later that you’re supposed to mix the cheese in and let it melt a little while you eat the bread and then drink the chocolate with the melted cheese inside of it.

As Alex mentioned in her previous post, there is a plethora of street food in Bogota, and many restaurants serving up traditional favorites such as Ajiaco (Colombian chicken soup) and tamals (think Mexican Tamales, but cooked in plantain leaves and considerably bigger with a softer form of masa). We weren’t left wanting once again for restaurants, but it is still hard to find good places among all the mediocrity, however asking locals and police officers never fails to produce results.

Bogota is so expansive you couldn’t ever explore all of it, from the historic downtown, to the more modern financial district (that has a building that at night would put Las Vegas to shame), to the outskirts with its apartments and neighborhoods. Alex and I enjoyed our time in Bogota, and thought it was the city that most surprised us thus far on the trip. Sure it is big and loud, like most capital cities, but there are treasures to be had if you put in the time to find them — and have a really great hostel to stay at!

We met up with a group of Colombian motorcyclists and went off-roading just outside of Colombia (details next post). Photo: Alex Washburn

Our last full day in Bogota we met up with a group of Colombian motorcyclists and went off-roading just outside of Bogota. Alex has a ton of bruises from the adventure (full post on the ride tomorrow). Photo: Alex Washburn

A.T.T.C.C.

A.T.T.C.C. is A Tale of Two Colonial Cities. Colombia has two well known towns that are colonial to the bone, both well preserved since their founding and now a days keeping up appearances for tourists. The older of the two is Villa de Leyva founded in 1572 and the baby brother is Barichara founded in 1705. Both are promoted by Lonely Planet and as they are within driving distance (and on our way to Bogota) we decided to do a back to back comparison.

Barichara

The Cathedral of Barichara dates back to 1705 and seems to dwarf the tiny puebla on the hillside. Photo: Alex Washburn

The Cathedral of Barichara dates back to 1705 and seems to dwarf the tiny puebla on the hillside. Photo: Alex Washburn

Barichara is located in the hills above San Gil, sitting atop a plateau that overlooks a dry valley below with a river running through. The landscape between San Gil and Barichara is pastoral bliss and once your in the town, it reminds one of the hills in Tuscany (our what I imagine they are like). The streets are cobblestone, but they have been cemented together, and though most likely slick when wet, it makes driving around on a motorcycle pleasant.
There is the sense that this isn’t just a tourist trap, but a real town nestled in the Colombian countryside. There are not an overwhelming amount of restaurants or knickknack shops, though there are more than enough cafes for some reason (this also is the case in Villa de Leyva). However, you see tons of locals on the streets, or sitting on stoups at night enjoying the country living.

In Barichara you are always either walking up or down a hill. It creates lovely views from every street! Photo: Alex Washburn

In Barichara you are always either walking up or down a hill. It creates lovely views from every street! Photo: Alex Washburn


Barichara is built on a hill and as you climb your way to the top the views of the surrounding valley only intensify, no matter which street you look down. The citizens and local government has done a great job of keeping up the facades of the houses and there is a cohesive feeling between the buildings that you would expect from a great colonial town.
There are three churches in town, the largest being Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción, which is located in the main square of town. A couple of look out points on the west side gives great views of the valley, and the whole town can be traversed in under an hour at a lazy pace leaving plenty of time to sip a lemonada at one of the many mentioned cafes.
Sleepy, quite, and what you would want in a little getaway, though the lack of restaurants may leave you a little hungry at dinner time.

Villa de Leyva

The Plaza Mayor in Valle De Leyva is one of the biggest plazas in the America's. It's a huge open cobblestone square with a small fountain in the middle of it with a handful of eateries on its edges. Photo: Alex Washburn

The Plaza Mayor in Valle De Leyva is one of the biggest plazas in the Americas. It’s a huge open cobblestone square with a small fountain in the middle and a handful of eateries on its edges. Photo: Alex Washburn

On a dusty road off of Highway-62, between San Gil and Bogota, in a high valley lies Villa de Leyva. The valley, unlike the aird environment of Barichara, is lush and the ride reminded Alex of the hills in Switzerland. The whole town revolves around the Plaza Mayor, which is one of the largest in the Americas and does feel impressive when you stand in the middle.
White washed walls prevail throughout the town, and like Barichara, the architecture is consistent throughout. Villa de Leyva does have a feeling of being more developed, many cafes and trinket shops along with jewelry stores and clothing shops line the inner streets and near the outskirts there are shops where locals would do their shopping.

Villa De Leyva is full of people walking their dogs (some on leashes some not). It further adds to the quiet no-hurry atmosphere. Photo: Alex Washburn

Villa De Leyva is full of people walking their dogs (some on leashes some not). It further adds to the quiet no-hurry atmosphere. Photo: Alex Washburn

The streets are cobblestone too, however laid in the traditional style, which makes driving a motorcycle on them…interesting. Upon entering town, Alex and I ended up going down a one way, the wrong way, and were told by cops to turned around. This is easier said than done on cobblestone, and an elderly gentleman came running up and helped pull us both backwards so we could turn around.
The town is about twice as big as Barichara, but there aren’t any more restaurants as one might expect. As in most smaller towns, stores tend to close early, and that might leave you without many options for dinner if you don’t plan ahead.
Lush, cobbley, and far from the bright lights of Bogota, it is a great escape from the larger cities, though the high altitude may have you reaching for a jacket instead of the sunscreen.

Both towns have hits and misses, Alex prefers Villa de Layva and I was more partial to Barichara. The best advice would be to hit up one or the other that fits best into your itinerary and then know that you got most of the experience of the other.

Pura Vida

A baby two toed sloth wows visitors at the Sloth Sanctuary just south of Limon Costa Rica. She had a skin infection so they shaved her and put her in a onesie to keep warm. Photo: Alex Washburn

As some of you may or may not know, part of the reason we were so rushed to get to Costa Rica is that Nathaniel’s Dad (Dave) flew down on December 18th to spend a little over a week with us touring around. As such, Alex went to the sloth sanctuary on December 17th, as it is on the other side of Costa Rica (three hours from San Jose in Limón). The complete insanity of that trip can not be captured in this post, further details to follow. Here, A baby two toed sloth wows visitors at the Sloth Sanctuary just south of Limon Costa Rica. She had a skin infection so they shaved her and put her in a onesie to keep warm. Photo: Alex Washburn

In San Jose we took the bikes into the Kawasaki dealership to have some basic maintenance done (chains cleaned, oil change, new clutch cable for Alex, replace Honda 50cc ignition coil on Nathaniel's bike since Farmersville). It was on the way back from the dealership Alex's bike blew the main fuse again. Replaced it and blew it instantly. Internet searches, e-mails/calls to gurus, and stripping the bike down yielded only knowing that there must be a short somewhere on the bike (Duh!). The mechanics from the dealership were dispatched over in the morning and finally found the short on the front turn signal. Bikes were nice and shinny for two whole hours before getting put back in the dirt. Photo: Alex Washburn

In San Jose we took the bikes into the Kawasaki dealership to have some basic maintenance done (chains cleaned, oil change, new clutch cable for Alex, replace Honda 50cc ignition coil on Nathaniel’s bike since Farmersville). It was on the way back from the dealership Alex’s bike blew the main fuse again. Replaced it and blew it instantly. Internet searches, e-mails/calls to gurus, and stripping the bike down yielded only knowing that there must be a short somewhere on the bike (Duh!). The mechanics from the dealership were dispatched over in the morning and finally found the short on the front turn signal. Bikes were nice and shinny for two whole hours before getting put back in the dirt. Photo: Alex Washburn

The first real day on the road with Dave we were traveling from San Jose to Monteverde to go to the cloud forest. Most of the trip was paved road, however, the turn off to Monteverde was 12 miles of loose gravel and rock on a vertical climb to get to the top. Windy, dusty, and beautiful, the views from Monteverde do not disappoint, as you can see all the way to the ocean. Photo: Alex Washburn

The first real day on the road with Dave we were traveling from San Jose to Monteverde to go to the cloud forest. Most of the trip was paved road, however, the turn off to Monteverde was 12 miles of loose gravel and rock on a vertical climb to get to the top. Windy, dusty, and beautiful, the views from Monteverde do not disappoint, as you can see all the way to the ocean. Photo: Alex Washburn

On the one full day we had in Monteverde we left early in the morning for a hike around the cloud forest (the place where clouds are literally born, from the warm weather on the pacific mixing with the cold air from the Caribbean). The biodiversity of Costa Rica is truly stunning as we saw sloths, quetzals, spiders, snakes, anteaters, coatimundi, and many varieties of hummingbirds.  Our tour guide Bernal was one of the best we have had on this trip, animated and clearly loving being able to hike for a living.  Photo: Alex Washburn

On the one full day we had in Monteverde we left early in the morning for a hike around the cloud forest (the place where clouds are literally born, from the warm weather on the pacific mixing with the cold air from the Caribbean). The biodiversity of Costa Rica is truly stunning as we saw sloths, quetzals, spiders, snakes, anteaters, coatimundi, and many varieties of hummingbirds. Our tour guide Bernal was one of the best we have had on this trip, animated and clearly loving being able to hike for a living. Photo: Alex Washburn

A violet Sabrewing Hummingbird hovers near a feeder at Monteverde Cloud Forest. Photo: Alex Washburn

A violet Sabrewing Hummingbird hovers near a feeder at Monteverde Cloud Forest. Photo: Alex Washburn

Tamarindo is the greatest little surf spot nobody had ever heard of...fifty-years ago. Now-a-days it is chuck full of boutiques, surf shops, and ex-pats all looking for a piece of the tourist dollar. As it is 'high season' in Costa Rica (from December to April), all the menus have been swapped and hotel rates lifted, making Costa Rica the most expensive country, by far, we have visited in Central America and often putting meals at or above American prices.  The town itself is a small main street that hugs the coast and then splinters into dirt roads that go off into neighborhoods.  The less adventurous traveler may enjoy Tamarindo for its faux third-world atmosphere and pervasive English, but veteran travelers can find less touristy spots with better surf elsewhere. The street food scene (usually budget friendly) is also pretty weak - this Snow Cone vendor was one of only three good finds Alex made in two days. Photo: Alex Washburn

Tamarindo was the greatest little surf spot nobody had ever heard of…fifty-years ago. Now-a-days it is chuck full of boutiques, surf shops, and ex-pats all looking for a piece of the tourist dollar. As it is ‘high season’ in Costa Rica (from December to April), all the menus have been swapped and hotel rates lifted, making Costa Rica the most expensive country, by far, we have visited in Central America and often putting meals at or above American prices. The town itself is a small main street that hugs the coast and then splinters into dirt roads that go off into neighborhoods. The less adventurous traveler may enjoy Tamarindo for its faux third-world atmosphere and pervasive English, but veteran travelers can find less touristy spots with better surf elsewhere. The street food scene (usually budget friendly) is also pretty weak – this Snow Cone vendor was one of only three good finds Alex made in two days. Photo: Alex Washburn

The waves in Tamarindo are great for beginners, and there are plenty of them that rove in packs known as Surf Schools, that take up all available ocean on the central beach.  Most of these schools focus on the mechanics of catching waves and little to no effort on teaching people about how to maneuver the board in water.  Subsequently you see lazy-ass Americans being pulled through the water while laying on their boards, lined up perfectly to catch a wave, and then being shoved off by the instructor and all they have to do is stand up (which most do not accomplish).  Regardless - having lived in Santa Cruz for close to two decades Dave and Nathaniel were excited to get in the water. Photo: Alex Washburn

The waves in Tamarindo are great for beginners, and there are plenty of them that rove in packs known as Surf Schools, that take up all available ocean on the central beach. Most of these schools focus on the mechanics of catching waves and little to no effort on teaching people about how to maneuver the board in water. Subsequently you see lazy-ass Americans being pulled through the water while laying on their boards, lined up perfectly to catch a wave, and then being shoved off by the instructor and all they have to do is stand up (which most do not accomplish). Regardless – having lived in Santa Cruz for close to two decades Dave and Nathaniel were excited to get in the water. Photo: Alex Washburn

There could be a reason that the GPS told us to go around the peninsula and take a ferry to Montezuma instead of driving there from Tamarindo. On a path that is not serviceable in the rainy season, Dave in his Rav4 and we on the bikes, set out on our way to Montezuma (maybe this was a little revenge for us), along the only main highway that connects the peninsula with he mainland.  Once we got to the junction of 18 and 21, we shut the GPS off and traveled on into the green wilderness. (Here Dave and Nathaniel are fixing Dave's flat tire) Photo: Alex Washburn

There could be a reason that the GPS told us to go around the peninsula and take a ferry to Montezuma instead of driving there from Tamarindo. On a path that is not serviceable in the rainy season, Dave in his Rav4 and we on the bikes, set out on our way to Montezuma (maybe this was a little revenge for us), along the only main highway that connects the peninsula with he mainland. Once we got to the junction of 18 and 21, we shut the GPS off and traveled on into the green wilderness. (Here Dave and Nathaniel are fixing Dave’s flat tire) Photo: Alex Washburn

As David would say four hours later “I wanted some adventure, but this may be too much.”

What awaited us on road 162 was the most challenging day of riding yet on this trip, some of which neither of us think we could have done two months ago.  Fifty-miles of mountains on gravel/rock roads, seven river crossings (including one with 3 feet of water where the motorcycles had to cross), two broken down motorcyclists needing rides, a flat tire on the Rav4 (lucky we had a spare and were right next to a tire repair shop, out in the middle of nowhere), and eight hours later we arrived in Montezuma, a trip which everyone said should only take five. We earned our off-road badges yesterday and the victory dinner couldn't have tasted better. Photo: David Chaney

What awaited us on road 162 was the most challenging day of riding yet on this trip, some of which neither of us think we could have done two months ago. Fifty-miles of mountains on gravel/rock roads, seven river crossings (including one with 3 feet of water where the motorcycles had to cross), two broken down motorcyclists needing rides, a flat tire on the Rav4 (lucky we had a spare and were right next to a tire repair shop, out in the middle of nowhere), and eight hours later we arrived in Montezuma, a trip which everyone said should only take five. We earned our off-road badges yesterday and the victory dinner couldn’t have tasted better. This is a photo of us next to the final river crossing (the first was the biggest). Photo: David Chaney

After our hours of hard riding we were rewarded with Montezuma.Montezuma is the beach town you wished Tamarindo was. Maybe because it is on the tip and only really accessible by ferry, or that there are several towns within driving distance that off equal fare, there is a lazy, laid-back vibe in this ocean town. Beach side accommodations can be found on the cheap, and the water is the bluest yet in Costa Rica, however best part yet might just be hanging out in a hammock on the balcony of the hostel and watching the waves roll in with a slight breeze on your face. Photo: Alex Washburn

After our hours of hard riding we were rewarded with Montezuma.Montezuma is the beach town you wished Tamarindo was. Maybe because it is on the tip and only really accessible by ferry, or that there are several towns within driving distance that off equal fare, there is a lazy, laid-back vibe in this ocean town. Beach side accommodations can be found on the cheap, and the water is the bluest yet in Costa Rica, however best part yet might just be hanging out in a hammock on the balcony of the hostel and watching the waves roll in with a slight breeze on your face. Photo: Alex Washburn

Montezuma may not have the wildlife of Monteverde but it can still surprise you. Here, a White-faced monkey looks to steal any food it can from tourists.  These little bastards are everywhere, and while tourists may ooo and aww over their cuteness, we are sure locals perceive them the way Americans do raccoon, a nuisance to be dealt with.  Photo: Alex Washburn

Montezuma may not have the wildlife of Monteverde but it can still surprise you. Here, a White-faced monkey looks to steal any food it can from tourists. These little bastards are everywhere, and while tourists may ooo and aww over their cuteness, we are sure locals perceive them the way Americans do raccoon, a nuisance to be dealt with. Photo: Alex Washburn

Life on the road

Giovanni the Handyman at our hotel poses for a portrait before we leave. Photo: Alex Washburn

Giovanni the Handyman at our hotel poses for a portrait before we leave. Photo: Alex Washburn

With only a few days left in Nicaragua, Alex and I were reviewing the timeline before we battled our way through another border and on into Costa Rica. We decided that we wanted to spend a half day in Granada before moving on to the border.

Granada is a lake town that sits on the edge of Lago Nicaragua, with views of Concepción Volcan in the distance. We would have pictures of all of this, but there was another unfortunate motorcycle hiccup. As we pulled the motorcycles into our hotel in Granada (Hotel Casa Barcelona, a hotel that promotes jobs for local women to become independent bread winners) Alex felt/heard a snapping sensation in her clutch cable, lo and behold we could see that of the nine or ten strands of cable, all but three had snapped.

Alex shows off the damage after pulling the frayed clutch cable out of her bike. Photo: Alex Washburn

Alex shows off the damage after pulling the frayed clutch cable out of her bike. Photo: Alex Washburn

Plans for our restful day by the lake quickly dissolved into web-searches, youtube videos, and greasy fingers. After watching a video on how to remove the clutch cable, Alex stated to me “I think we can do this, without any tools”. Well one of those two statements turned out to be true.

Before I could protest, Alex was out of the hotel lobby and into the courtyard, borrowing a pair of pliers from the hotel handyman (Giovanni, he will be in the story later) and beginning to rip into the clutch lever. The only conversation we had on the subject, was whether we thought the bike could make it in its current state to the shop we are going to in Costa Rica. Upon further review we both decided it would be foolish to continue without some sort of repair.

In about thirty minutes we had dissembled the clutch lever and removed the clutch cable. Alex held it out to the two handymen that were working on staining a table in the courtyard where our bikes were. Giovanni came over to inspect the cable, and Alex asked where we might be able to obtain another one.

By now it was 4:00, and the main concern was that if we didn’t find a replacement, most of the shops would not be open on Sunday and it might mean a delay of several days to get it repaired. Giovanni said he knew of a shop and suddenly we were in his car racing through Granada.

It was at this time that the sky’s let loose the rain they has been threatening all day and monsoon style downpour drenched the tiny town as Alex and Giovanni sprinted into the shop. The full cable assemblies they had in stock were too short by only a couple of inches, so we ended up getting a long replacement cable to feed into the tubing of the original.

Back to the hotel we went, the rain went just as quickly as it came, and though the bikes were wet, it didn’t slow the installation. Giovanni provided a helping hand in getting the new cable threaded and hooking the clutch lever back up. Next we needed to attach it to the motor. Here we ran into some problems because the washer and bolt that came with the replacement cable were too big to fit into the housing on the motor.

Giovanni shapes the nut to cap the end of Alex's new clutch cable. Photo: Nathaniel Chaney

Giovanni shapes the nut to cap the end of Alex’s new clutch cable. Photo: Nathaniel Chaney

Giovanni pulled out a grinder and started shaping the nut to fit. A little bending to widen the housing, and we were able to get the nut into the system. A little adjustment at the lever, and it was good as new or at least jimmy-rigged enough to get us to Costa Rica. It wasn’t pretty, but it meant we could stay on schedule and get across the border. It took all the time we had in Granada to do it, however Alex’s faith in us being able to fix it was unwavering, she amazes me!

Also, as in Honduras, when we needed help, the right people seemed to show up. We are grateful that Giovanni was so willing to help two strangers and are still amazed at the kindness of strangers here in Central America.

The following day came early and it was time to see if the cable would hold and what the border had in store for us. The border crossing wasn’t the worst in terms of harassment, but was the most extensive in paperwork and general futility. All told it took five hours.

Nicaragua had the most amount of work to exit a country yet. Most countries are glad to let you go with a stamp and some well wishes as you become the next country’s problem. However, Nicaragua required we have an official (who is wandering around the immigration area) inspect the bikes, then we had to get a stamp from a second of official in a booth, before tracking down a police officer (who also is just wandering around) to sign our forms. It took two hours just to get all the paperwork filled out and signed just to exit Nicaragua. For comparison, exiting Honduras took all of twenty minutes.

Next it was on to Costa Rica. Instead of describing the whole procedure, we have drawn this diagram:

Here is our 5 step process to get into Costa Rica. Photo: Alex Washburn

Here is our 5 step process to get into Costa Rica. Photo: Alex Washburn

After five hours of border crossing hi jinks, which included the insurance agency typing Alex’s VIN wrong three times, we made it into the countryside and all the way to Liberia Canton for a victory dinner. Country number seven is ours for the taking, and we are off to San Jose for our appointment to have some much needed maintenance done to the bikes.

Tegulcigapa (again)

Storm clouds approach as two mechanics in a town we don't know the name of struggle to get both our bikes back on the road. Photo: Alex Washburn

Storm clouds approach as two mechanics in a town we don’t know the name of work to get both our bikes back on the road. Photo: Alex Washburn

Yesterday we planned to have breakfast in a cute town just outside Tegucigalpa Honduras and then make our way to a small town near the Nicaraguan border so we could cross early today. However, the gods of the Autopista had their own plans and although it wasn’t the worst possible day of riding it was probably the most dangerous day of riding we’ve had so far on this trip.

The road from Santa Lucia was beautiful and a great road although it gave us our fair share of problems. Photo: Alex Washburn

The road from Santa Lucia was beautiful and a great road although it gave us our fair share of problems. Photo: Alex Washburn

We set off through the gridlock traffic of Tegucigalpa from our hotel and the only thing that made it bearable was that the sun hadn’t had the chance to bring the city to a simmer yet. Creeping along the one way streets it took us longer to go two miles than it did the next eight once we had escaped the city limits.

Santa Lucia (our goal for breakfast) is an adorable little town in the mountains just outside of “Tegus.” The town built into the green sloping landscape has a clean pond in the middle of it, a town square not much bigger than a basketball court, and a simple white church with a hilltop view of the valley that holds Tegucigalpa.

Unfortunately for us cuteness sometimes comes with cobblestones, which are murder to ride a bike on in Latin America. The stones are huge (typically much bigger than European cobblestones) so if one stone or a series of them have become seriously tilted it can throw your bike around. We finally found the correct cobblestone road out of Santa Lucia heading towards the hills and the rock quickly faded to a hard packed dirt road winding up and up and up.

Every once in a while we would pass a small grouping of houses or a few lonely chickens back-lit by amazing views. Dark green smallish mountains with fields and clouds and sunshine.

It was turning out to be a perfect ride, but around mile 20 there were some really deep indentations in the road from where water runs over the ground in rainstorms. I made it over them and kicked my bike down into first or second gear so that I could ride really slow till Nathaniel showed up again in my mirrors. As I was watching my mirrors I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going and almost as soon as I saw Nathaniel appear in my mirror I felt my back tire start to slide out from under me in the gravel and I went down.

I clearly wasn’t hurt as you can see in the video and it only took us a second to get the bike back up, however once we did it wouldn’t start. At first I thought maybe the bike had flooded because some gas has started leaking out of it when it was on its side, but after letting the bike sit for several minutes and trying again that was clearly not the case. We decided the only way we were going to be able to get the bike moving again would be to try and roll start it down the hill.

In the process of pushing my bike up the hill and maneuvering it into position for our second attempt at a roll start, Nathaniel noticed that the back tire of his bike was going flat. When I couldn’t get my bike to roll start Nathaniel tried and got it running, which was awesome, however I was supposed to try and follow him slowly up the hill on his bike. When I threw my leg over it I realized his tire wasn’t just going flat – it was a pancake.

We spent probably an hour trying to fix Nathaniel’s tire, first using the goo we had and then plugs from a tire repair kit, neither of which were keeping air in the tire at first. We ran out of our compressed air and then I started asking people passing by if they had anything to inflate tires with in their vehicle.

I hailed a tuk-tuk driver over and asked him if he had one (assuming those little tires must have a lot of problems on these roads) and his passenger became very concerned for Nathaniel and I. We talked for several minutes about where a mechanic might be and how to get the tire inflated. The passenger ended up paying the tuk-tuk driver to take the boy he had been riding with back to their home and the tuk-tuk driver would then bring back something to inflate the tire with as he waited with us to make sure we were okay.

The man that stayed with us was incredibly nice. He was probably in his mid 50’s to early 60’s and he told us that although the area we were in was safe he wanted to make sure visitors to his country were taken care of. Although it’s not something that lives in our minds everyday, it’s worth mentioning Honduras is one of the most murderous countries in the world. It usually places in the top three in any given year above places like Uganda, Malawi, and the Congo.

The tuk-tuk driver returned in about 20 minutes and told us that after he filled Nathaniel’s tire we should follow him to a tire repair shop. He filled the tire from a hand pump and our friend that waited with us used pieces of plant alongside the road to stuff into the hole created by the nail Nathaniel had run over. I started up the road on Nathaniel’s bike after the tuk-tuk as Nathaniel roll started my bike and came after us.

When Nathaniel's bike is on its' center stand it is unbalanced and this is how the mechanics held up his bike as they fixed his back tire. Photo: Alex Washburn

When Nathaniel’s bike is on its’ center stand it is unbalanced and this is how the mechanics held up his bike as they fixed his back tire. Photo: Alex Washburn

Up through the hills we went till at last we hit asphalt again and the tuk-tuk led us to a tire repair shop. They dealt with Nathaniel’s tire quickly and the mechanic eventually came to the decision that my battery was bad. As I type this from our hotel it’s nearly midnight and I will have to wait till morning to figure out what is really going on with it.

The men at the shop charged us $15 for their help and jumped my bike with one of their cars before Nathaniel and I headed off into the night. We avoid riding at night because the roads here are sprinkled with nasty potholes and a lack of ambient light makes them a lot darker then in the US.

Getting back to Tegucigalpa was the worst 15 miles of riding we’ve had on the entire trip. With low visibility in the dark we couldn’t ride fast enough to keep our face shields from fogging and because it was raining they were also covered in water droplets so anytime we met oncoming traffic light would catch in the droplets on my face mask totally blinding me.

It took us a really long time to get back to the hotel we’ve been staying at in Tegucigalpa. Until we got back to the city center I was in a constant cycle of opening my face shield to vent it, wiping the water off it, flipping my mask up and squinting into the rain when cars came, flipping the face shield back down, praying during the moments I was totally blind on the road that I wouldn’t hit a pothole. Plus, I always worried that if I stalled the bike we’d be stuck along a dark rainy road in the middle of Honduras, without a way to start it again.

We’re now back in the same hotel we spend the last three nights and hope to figure out what is wrong with the bike today.