April 14, 2000

Here is my first official tour update while on the road! Finally I have left Santa Barbara, after numerous last minute delays. Yesterday I headed out on my scoot down the coast to Andy and Amy Stone's (ZBT brother) place in LA.

It was windy and the air was cool, but otherwise it was fairly uneventful. Andy is currently working for JPL in Pasadena, on a satellite that will be collecting Solar Winds for analysis.

Amy is in her last year of medical school. While Andy was out performing volunteer search and rescue, Amy checked over my first aid kit for completeness and was able to offer some great sickness advice. Andy then returned and we caught up for awhile. Today, I plan on checking out his work and trying to get in touch with others in the area.

April 16, 2000

Last night a friend and I got lucky enough to get into The Magic Castle of Hollywood, for a night of dinner and magic. It is a neat place where the best magicians in the world perform. I couldn't figure out any of the tricks.

Today, Andy and I helped a friend of his from JPL tune up his car. We then picked up some burritos for lunch, I took some photos, and headed onward toward San Diego to hang out with Rob Rockhold, a friend from USCB.

The trip was cold and otherwise fairly uneventful. My ass is starting to adjust to the ride. I found out that my bike gets a maximum of 130 miles/tank or 65 miles/gallon of gas. I am sure this information will eventually come in use.

Immediately after arriving in Ocean Beach (OB), Rob and I headed out for a night of poker at a friends place. Between the hours of 8pm and 2am, I somehow lost all my money, then won it all back, and then lost it all again; however, the pizza and beer made it all worth while. Tomorrow, we plan to visit the famous flower fields of Carlsbad.

April 20, 2000

The flower fields were far from impressive, but they had great strawberry shortcake outside the park, so it was worth it.

Other then that, there is nothing much going on, a day of rain, a game of Axis & Allies, a stroll through the local farmers' market, and a few movie rentals.

"Three Kings" was a good movie about a group of American soldiers during the Iraqi war that attempted to steal Saddam Husseins' gold stash. I give it 2 thumbs up.

"Excellent Cadavers" was another interesting movie about the anti-mafia movement in Sicily. Another 2 thumbs up.

"Office Space" was a movie about workin' fer the man, and one individual breaking free. In my opinion, movie of the year. Plan to continue on soon...

April 24, 2000

Today was a crazy day. I spent the entire morning trying to get $300 from the ATM, only to run up against a "daily limit". Apparently banks consider weekend transactions as though they occured on monday. I had to wait till 3 pm EST before it would work. Finally I got travelers cheques and headed out along the 94 East to Tecate.

The 94 is an absolutely beautiful road that twists through the sierras. Upon reaching Tecate, I negotiated my visa and motorcycle permit and ran into a couple from Colorado planning a 14 day tour through Baja on a BMW. Here I am packed full and together they both packed into 2 small saddle bags. I followed them along the 3 until Ensenada where they checked into a luxury resort, no wonder they packed light. Their names were Roger Romeo and Jane Horton.

I continued on toward Los Aguas Calientes, and on the way stopped to grab a couple tacos. In the process, I dropped my bike, bending the headlight brackets and breaking a turn signal lens. My first mishap! The road to the campground was down the side of a rocky and sandy mountain, what had I gotten myself into? Well I made it before dark, only to discover that the pools were empty. They were busy cleaning them and refilling them, but promised they would be done manana.

April 25, 2000

Suprisingly enough the pools were full when I woke up. I spent a few hours soaking in them, where I met a 65 year old man named Pedro Santana. He insisted I share 4 lamb tacos with him, so I did. We talked for awhile, and he told me about his wife who had died of a heart attack and his 4 kids. He continued to reminisce as he played some spanish music from the 1950's. A few sayings from him: "Dinero no es la vida" y "es pura vanidad". I also learned that if the ice has a hole in it, it is pure.

After some photos and goodbye, I started back on the mountain road. In the process of returning to the 3, I dropped the bike 3 more times this time bending the rest of the turn signals. I had to unpack my pack just to lift the bike, definitely too heavy.

The trip to San Felipe was arid with little interesting scenery. The only thing that kept me going was "Arrested Development" and "Jane"s Addiction" on CD. When I got to San Felipe, I set out to find Nancy Nixon, Tina Handerhan's mom, who supposedly lived on Road 16. Eventually I found her and she took me out too an excellent dinner, and set me up at her beach house. San Felipe has lots of sand, so we decided it best for me to leave use her VW while I am here. She told me there was an internet cafe in town called "The Net", and showed me how to catch clams.

April 26, 2000

Today was a slow day by comparison. I woke up on the beach at 7, drove the bike over to pick up the VW and picked up a visitor pass at El Dorado, her residential resort. The VW can best be described as a loud and underpowered motorcycle with windows. Nacy left for a doctors appointment in AZ and I returned to the beach house and relaxed.

Back at the ranch, I met Jim, a fixer-up guy. The best way to describe Jim is through his own words "The only time I will be through building down here is when I am a dead sucker". Any ways, he was fixin' to pour a slab of concrete to fit a propane and fresh water tank. Always one to work on projects, I asked if I could be of help. 6.5 wheel barrels later, we were done.

I went into town for lunch and to look around. It is damn hot here! Took a swim and returned to cook up some clams for dinner. Maybe I'll check out the social scene tonight.

April 27, 2000

Well it's 85 in the shade. The sun came up at 6:15 and by 7:15 I had to get outta bed. Started reading "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". The book has so much insight.

I strolled down to the water w/ a fork in hand and did some clamming. If you walk real slowly through the muddy sand you can feel them under your feet. There is definitely no shortage of em, got a few dozen and set them aside in fresh water giving them a chance to spit out their sand before dinner.

Another lazy day, played guitar, it is times like these I am glad I brought it. Otherwise the beach is very quiet, w/ no one around less the occasional ATV. Every now and then one appears out of nowhere carrying some fat gringo headed nowhere and oblivious to the natural tranquility of the beach.

I guess Ill head into town for some desayuno (breakfast)and upload my photos and check my email at "The Net". What a rip-off! They wanted $32 to do my thing, I gave them $25. The computers are very slow and it took a few hours to upload them all. I might have to reconsider this web stuff.

Played more guitar and ate dinner. It is about time to move on, I am nervous about the road onward from Puertecitos.

April 28, 2000

Woke up, cleaned the place and packed up. Returned the VW to Nancy and picked up my bike.

I tried an alternate mounting scheme for my gear but the bracket I made isn't strong enough. During a test run I dropped the bike in the sand and burnt my leg, ouch! Nancy gave me an old pair of cowboy boots and 200 pesos. I helped her setup her new computer and took off. Picked up a taco and got my keys copied in town.

The road to Puertecitos was excellent up until the last 2 miles. I see the road onward is really bad. I setup camp on the beach and had dinner with the locals...

April 29, 2000

All night the coyotes howled. I took an early morning walk to find the legendary hot springs, too hot this early must wait for high tide. On the return I ran into a man named Leon. He invited me over. Leon is a 60 year old UDT (Underwater Demolition Team) Navy vet who lives alone, yet has many friends. He goes by the name "Pink Panther" on the radio. A very busy man, never comfortable sitting around. Walking around his place is like stepping into a game of Myst, w/ contraptions everywhere. Checked out some pictures of fish and such and talked. He says the national bird is the fly. I had to laugh. He has quite a sense of humor. He offered me to stay so I moved my bike over. Later in the day some friends of his showed up w/ a 24' boat, they plan on fishing for a week. Ate dinner hit the hot springs and went to sleep.

May 2, 2000

I woke up not sure whether I would stay the day or continue on. Played some guitar and met a group of japanese dirt bikers touring Baja lead by two americans Bruce and Larry. Bruce is 44 and started biking at 13. He runs a truck dealership in Riverside. Larry is 43 and started biking at 5. He is a 10 time Baja champ sponsored by Kawasaki. Both very nice guys, Larry gave me a tire patch kit and Bruce a good saying: "If you hurry it takes 3 days, if you take your time, 3 hours". About the road I was traveling on, while fixin' a tire on his bike. Ate lunch and took off at 3. The road was a little better, but still tough. Made it to Coco's Corner by 5 and the trans-peninsular pavement by 6. Finally a real road! I did it! Headed to Catavina for the night and met up with the japanese group at La Pina Hotel. We drank and carried on.

May 3, 2000

I just didn't feel like roughing the roads again and wanted to catch up a bit so I added some oil and headed toward Guerrero Negro. Perfect straight road, and nothing to see except for cactus. Listened to "Soul Coughing" and "Mix1". Pulled into town at 4 and messed around for 2 hours. The town is built around a salt mine and looks like shit. I humored the thought of staying the night, but quickly came to my senses and headed onward. Made good time to San Ignacio, an absolutely beautiful town. Camped under a palm tree next to a fresh water stream and met 2 canadians. George in an RV, and John on a new BMW dual-sport. We talked about my drive and gear and such when I realized "hell, I just drove through 110 miles of desert with a road bike and 3 gallons of gas, wow! Crazy to think about. Well alot to see here so I will probably stay a day.

May 4, 2000

We ate breakfast and the canadians left town. I plan to meet up with John in a day and bike a trail in Loreto together. Spent the day swimming and fishing from a small boat. No fish, not even a bite. Into town for lunch and checked out the Mission, nice. Met a 65 year old lady of french origin living in Mexico City named Martine. She was looking for a ride to see the cuevas pinturas (cave paintings) and it sounded like fun so I said sure. Quickly packed up the bike and off we went. The camp was Rancho Guadalupe in the Sierra de San Francisco mountains. It took 2 hours to bike in we had an incredible dinner of homemade tortillas, sopa, quesadillas and tea with the locals and off to bed.

May 5, 2000

Early rise and off to meet Ramon, our tour guide and saddle up the mules and donkeys. We headed down the long hot and dry trail to the bottom of the canyons at 8:30 and unloaded our supplies at camp at 1:30. Continued on by foot to the caves and reached the first one by 4. Interesting paintings, but worth the hike? On to the second cave across the canyon. Again nice. I realized I am not really into investigating the history of others as much as I am understanding the present. Martine had a funny quote: "Some are black, some are red, some striped some not. It is all symbolic" I had to laugh inside, she is really into it. We returned to camp, cooked dinner and off to bed.

May 7, 2000

Got up early, but not early enough to avoid the camp fee. They didn't even have a shower and all night the trucks knocked by, all in all unpleasant. Got to Mulege, nice town, got lunch. Strolled around, called home, all is well. Mexico shuts down on Sundays, so there wasn't much open so I snorkeled for an hour at Point Priete before leaving. Pulled into Loreto after an hour and half. Dead town, recovering from a fiesta of the night before. Internet cafe! Pulled into an RV park and met 2 canadians who ran into John going the other way. The first thing they said to me was "Your the guy with the burnt leg". Guess I am famous around here. Took my first good shower and laundry, feels good.

May 8, 2000

Well, my inflatable pillow took a shit on me and I couldn't sleep all night. Fran and Larry left early, after giving me the lyrics to Cielito Lindo, so I went into town to check out the Ínternet Cafe' $6-hr not bad but very slow as usual. Checked my email and uploaded 64 images it took me 2 hours. I grabbed lunch at LuLu's, a great taco stand on the main drag and met a guy named Richard from Colorado trying his luck starting an outdoor adventure business (BajaOutdoors.com). I returned to the cafe to finish up the pictures and met 2 Germans named Jupp and Katharine that are also travelling the world. They plan to be in S. America for a few years and asked me to visit. Took off and setup camp at Ligui beach, a marine preserve. Met a guy named Norm also from Colorado camping with some friends in a modified bus, very cool. Says he'll take me diving manana.

May 9, 2000

No dive, he forgot he only has 1 rig... On the way outta camp I got extremely lost in the sand dunes and took a few spills, breaking my baby guitar. The ride to La Paz was rather uneventful, just cactus and sand, with alternating hot and cold regions. Passed through CD Insurgientes and Constitucion which are heavy agricultural areas, windy and dull. I was amazed upon entering La Paz, much bigger and more developed then I had expected. I checked out the ferry to Mazatlan. Leaves at 3pm and I should arrive at 8am to fill out the papers, lovely. I setup camp on the neighboring beach. Plan to head down to Cabo Pulmo tomorrow in search of Marcos, and starting the Cabo circle. I noticed a nice hostel in town Hotel California, with lots of travelers, will stay there when I return.

May 10, 2000

I did some chatting with a local about my trip ands the bike, and mentioned I could probably use a bujia (sparkplug) or two, he pointed out where I could get one. No more then 1 mile down the road one of my cylinders stops firing. Can you believe the sparkplug I was considering replacing just quit. Well I rode on one cylinder to the shop and luckily they had em in stock. My 1st on road repair! While I was at it, I figured I outta adjust the throttle and carbs and lube the chain. The road entering Cabo Pulmo is dirt and rough, say no more. Stopped at Pepe's dive shop to ask for Marcos. Well no one ever heard of the guy. On the side I heard 'hey Daryl', well believe it or not, I ran into John motoring through in the other direction. Both amazed, we exchanged stories and he advised me to take the ferry to Topolobampo instead to see the Copper Canyons. He took off with 6 Texans also on BMWs. Eventually I found Marcos (Mark) and family (Lynn, Gabriel, and Lucy). Ate dinner with them and went to bed.

May 13, 2000

Today I rode the bike marathon around Los Cabos and back to La Paz. I started off early. It was a pleasant ride to San Jose del Cabo where I mailed some postcards and got lunch. Not much going on in town so I continued on to Cabo San Lucas in search of 'Lands End'. On the way into town my bike turned 10,000 miles and at the same time ran outta gas. Luckily I carry an extra gallon. The Cabos are badly over touristed, but hell, so is all of Baja. It should be more appropriately called GringoLand, since it is really just a playground for the Americans. Found my way over some rocks and onto a remote beach where 'lands end' lay. Actually one of the most impressive sights in all of Baja. The waves are huge and have carved an archway into the surrounding rocks. Legend has it that it is only possible to explore by foot every 4 years. Lucky for me I guess. Very impressive, a must see. Continued on to Todos Santos, snapped a photo of 'Hotel California' checked my email and continued on. Back in La Paz, I checked into the hostel for $10, promptly met another solo traveler named Robert (a man of leasure), and doubled up to save enough money for a taco and helado (ice cream). Plan on ferrying outta here tomorrow.

May 15, 2000

The sunrise was beautiful entering Topolobampo. I must admit I packed myself well for this trip, less the sandals that I lost the day I left Santa Barbara, which I desperately need. I may break down and buy another pair soon. On my way out of the station I stopped to get a juice and met a vigilante named Francisco Waldestrand (father's name) Moreno (mother's name). We talked a bit and he invited me over to meet his friends and family. We had a great time talking, eating, and drinking. He taught me how to play "La Bamba" on guitar and when I pulled out the digital camera for some photos, they went nuts. They just loved seeing their faces on the 1 inch LCD. They had me take hundreds of pictures of everything, which I promptly deleted (nice feature) after leaving. Eventually, I took off to Los Mochis. On my way into town I decided to go to the train station to double check the schedule and fare. In Lonely Planet theory, the train to Creel costs $5 and leaves only 3 days a week. In reality, it costs $25 and leaves daily at 7am. Rather a big surprise. I decided it best to leave my bike in Los Mochis for the duration of the excursion. I checked into Hotel Argos for $8 and went out to stock up on supplies. Early to bed. No luck. The music from the bar behind my room was quite successful at permeating the walls and drove me outta bed. If you can{t beat it join it, so I put on some slippers and headed out. When I got to the bar, I met 4 extremely drunk Mexicans. We continued on to a number of bars drinking, practicing language, and listening to overly loud live Mexican rock and singing karaoki. A few things I learned about Mexican bars: the cheer is "salud", repeated spitting on the floor is highly machismo, and they like everything american (especially the Jimi Hendrix song "Gloria"). After a few too many .50 cervesas, I excused myself and performed a random walk pattern which miraculously ended up back at my hotel. I never really understood a word they said, but then again I don't think they did either.

May 16, 2000

This morning I locked up my bike and caught a bus to the train station. The FerroCarril is a 12 hour train that passes through Las Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyons), a set of canyons that together are larger then the Grand Canyons. The train moves very slowly hitting a maximum speed of 30 MPH which is actually a nice speed to absorb the beautiful scenery along the way. On its 655 km journey to Chihuahua it crosses 39 bridges and 86 tunnels. Quite a considerable feat of engineering. Considering it was done by Mexicans, you wonder how they ever finished it. Apparently it took a few decades to complete. I am writing this while I travel, because this sort of thing is best captured in action. The train makes a number of quick stops shortly after leaving Los Mochis. Initially the terrain is rather flat and dull. After leaving Loreto, it begins its climb. The canyons slowly develop and before long the train is twisting back and forth through rocky canyons. The scenery is incredible and all attempts to preserve it on film were futile. A definite must see. Every now and then the train stops for a few minutes to unload and load a handful of regionals. I can't help but wonder what there is for these people to do out here. I don't think they know either. My spanish is getting better and I manage to make some friends over a few games of checkers. So far everyone has been very kind and patient w/ me. As the train continues, I see old rail cars lying deep inside the canyons, derailed at some time by accident or by plan. Makes you wonder. Eventually the canyons give way to forests of pine. Despite the temperate climate, everything is green and healthy. Though the cars have plush seats and large windows, the best spot on the train is in the open air vestibules between cars, where there are no windows, just good scenery and the wind in your hair. Once again the canyons develop, a exhilarating experience. It is now 2:15 and I wonder how everyone is doing back in Santa Barbara. In the distance I see a forest fire make its way across the land. At the next stop ornately dressed Tarahuma indian women try selling straw baskets and various handicrafts, while the children walk by yelling "enchiladas enchiladas" at the top of their lungs. From Diversadero a spectacular view from the top of the canyons is possible. The train continues on. I make my way back to my seat and plug into "G Love and Special Sauce", pick up on chapter 15 of ZAMM, and relax. I get off the train at Creel.

May 20, 2000

Met a Japanese kid in the morning in desperate need of a guide book or a map or anything. Helped him out and he informed me of an internet cafe for $1-hour. Too good to be true, so I had to check it out. Well, it was. 2.5 hours later and 5 floppies, I had only managed to answer my email. All my photos were transferred from the camera, but they wouldn't upload, perhaps because of the 100 other people in the place using Napster. I typed in my journal entries, but it crapped out when I went to save them. Total waste. Connection speed and finding a keyboard that works is everything.

Running late to reach Mazatlan, a 5 hour drive, I ate a quick lunch, packed, and left. The ride to Mazatlan was rather uninteresting and uneventful, less an incident in Culican where an old lady driving a car full of pinatas damn near ended my tour early by pulling out 30 yards in front of me travelling at 40 mph. Some how I managed to stop the bike 5 yards short of broad siding the car without flipping the thing sideways. It was very close, I was very lucky, and all is well in the world.

About 20 miles outside of Mazatlan I ran outta gas. Thank the rescue tank. Entered town at 9pm and checked into Hotel Zaragoza, a nice place for $6 a night. All in all a bad day.

Did a quick calculation on my cash and it looks as though I am a few dollars over budget. $20 per day including the train tickets. For $3 I picked up 3 tacos, a cola, and a beer for dinner.

May 21, 2000

Sunday, everything is closed. Toured around town on my bike and ran into a girl from the bay area named Michal. We talked awhile about travel and such and planned to reconvene for dinner at 7. I continued on and checked out El Faro, the worlds second highest lighthouse. The hike to the top wasn't easy, but the panoramic view of the city made it worthwhile. On my way back to the hotel, I stopped to checkout a soccer match on the beach.

Later, picked up Michal on the bike. We watched the sunset, toured around some, and picked up pizza for dinner a nice change from the standard taco or two. Afterwards we hit the bars, where I met a local cliff diver named Tony "tanga", and he recommended I check out his dive tomorrow. 45 feet into 5 feet of water. Sounds interesting.

Oh, I also spent 3 hours trying to upload photos (slow connection). Will finish up tomorrow. Pulled 1500 pesos.

May 24, 2000

Today I began taking Mefloquine, an anti-malarial medication, 1 per week. Very nice ride to San Blas. Left at 9:30 and arrived at 1. Many interesting small towns along the way. San Blas is a quaint little port town that holds some history in the formation of the california missions. Upon arriving I traveled the main road straight through town and ended up on a cobblestone road that circled the pier.

I met a local fisherman named Roberto. He introduced me to his family and offered me to setup my tent on his property, very nice. Checked out the town for a bit, strolled the beach, and setup camp. After sunset the mosquitos moved in. Headed into town for the nightlife. Played pool against some locals, and met an Austrian. Tomorrow I would like to take the La Tovara Jungle Tour.

May 25, 2000

The La Tovara Jungle Tour was great. The boat made its way along a twisting river surrounded by thick vegetation. There were lots of interesting plants and animals, including crocodiles. Perhaps the best part was an area where there was a rope swing into the water and swimming. Ran across a few americans, but mostly mexican tourists. After returning, I went to the beach, sipped a cola, and relaxed in a hammock for awhile. I searched the area for the legendary "epic wave", the world's longest, and met a group of surfers Brad, Gene, and friends of New Mexico staying at "Don"s Resort". Don is a character, he knows something about damn near everything except music (never heard of Metallica), and he managed to built a very nice stone bungalow by hand. The gang was drinking beers and waiting for the surf when I arrived, apparently the wave "wasn't on". I returned to town, ate dinner, and hit the bars. Same scene, tomorrow I am off to Guadalajara.

May 26, 2000

Roberto and family introduced me to Guanabana, a tasty fruit that is somewhere between a pineapple and a mango. I gave him $4 for the two nights camping and headed out. Very beautiful ride. Stopped in Ixtapa for lunch and saw some Aztec ruins. Continued on and stopped in Tequila, a nice town famous for its liquor.

I took a tour of the Jose Cuervo factory. Tequila is made from the Blue Agave plant which kinda looks like an Aloe plant and supposedly only grows in the state of Sinaloa. They cut the leaves off and only use the pineapple looking base. Processing consists of 5 steps: cook, mill, ferment, distill, and age. Cooked agave is actually really sweet, like sugar cane.

Met a group of mexican students touring the town and they invited me to join them in Guadalajara for a birthday party they were celebrating. 5 liters of tequila later the party came to an end.

May 29, 2000

A great day! I got up early and dragged my ass down to the moto shop. They told me to return in 4 hours, so I figured I would try to find an internet cafe which I figured would take just as long. Surprise, there was one right around the corner for $2 per hour, and not only did it work, but it was fast. I was in heaven. I finished all my updating and even had time to spare in my 2 hour slot.

After finishing up, I returned to check on the progress. The mechanic had just finished up changing the oil and declaring that the problem was a simple carburetor adjustment (which I had done hundreds of times in the past with no success). After fooling with that for a half hour, with no success, he decided it best to take the carburetors apart and clean them (also had been done with no success). As he was taking everything apart, I noticed that the fuel sender diaphragm hose was wet with gas.

That isn't right I thought, since that hose should only carry the intake manifold vacuum. The mechanic continued on without acknowledging the problem, so I stopped him, showed him the problem, and explained what was wrong. My theory was that the sender was leaking gas into the manifold directly causing obvious spark plug fouling.

I tested my theory by capping off the intake manifold port, and sticking a bolt in the fuel sender diaphragm hose. I started the bike, and it ran with a smooth vigor I had never heard before. It just sounded delighted. Immediately I felt a wave of relief, for I had found the problem that has been vexing this bike since I got it 2 years ago. During that time dozens of mechanics had looked at it, and charged me lots of money to find nothing, and then act as if the bike were fine.

Sometimes the simplest problems are the hardest to find, but persistance pays off. Thank god I had returned to check up on the progress or the saga woulda continued. After fixing the problem, I went to get lunch while the mechanic continued to synchronize the carburetors. They must felt like they did a good job too, since they charged me $65, for what I am not sure.

I switched to another hotel and ran into a group of Swede's and Michal (surprise). We spent the evening swapping stories and strolling around town.

May 30, 2000

Nothing too thrilling happened today. Toured a few museums and cathedrals in the morning and took a siesta in the afternoon. Later in the day Michal and I started off toward Tonala and halfway there she got sick, so we turned around. I began learning "El Muelle De San Blas' by "Mana" on guitar, it goes something like: Em A D G.

Later in the evening I went to the "Plaza de Mariachis" and ran into Brad and his girlfriend Geneva from San Blas. Geneva is headed off to the Peace Corp. in a few days to teach english in Micronesia, and Brad is continuing south with a surfboard in hand. We had a good and strange time listening to the mariachis and meeting the local kooks.

May 31, 2000

I planned on leaving today, but I just had to check out the city market in the morning and one thing led to another, before I knew it it was too late to go. The market is an incredible 3 stories high by 4 blocks long, and they got everything you can imagine. I broke down and got some sandals, some tools for my bike, and the best quesadillas and shrimp tacos I have ever had.

After strolling the aisles for hours, I returned for a siesta. Later in the afternoon, Michal was feeling better from the drugs I had given her to calm her stomach, and we did some more strolling, hit an internet cafe, and returned to the Plaza de Mariachis for dinner. Today I saw alot of people selling umbrellas, kinda makes me nervous. Tomorrow would like to try Tonala again before heading out.

June 1, 2000

My first day of rain, surprise! We decided to check out Tonala anyways. Cold and wet but fun, we shopped the street markets in the rain. I got some shampoo and this spiral vegetable cutter (don't ask why, i dunno). This loopy spending has gotta stop. After awhile the weather cleared and I headed out. Decided to take the cuota to Colima in an attempt to recover for some "lost time". The cuotas are fast, safe, and expensive. It set me back $6.50 and half way through the journey it started dumping rain. When the thunder and lightening started I decided to take refuge in an abandoned Pemex station. The storm passed and I continued. The ride was quite interesting with the first half primarily marshland and the second half sub-tropic mountains.

I switched to the libre as soon as possible. I pulled into Colima at 7 and decided it best not to continue on. Checked into Hotel San Cristobal for $5 and got dinner at the highly recommended "Ah Que Narisha". I think I died and went to heaven, I had:

Huitlacas with black pea mushrooms

Platano rellenos con queso

Taco Conchitas

Enchilado con pollo y Mole Negro

Vaso de Horchata

Pay de maiz (tasted like pumpkin and coconut)

All this for $6 and very very tasty. Tomorrow I would like to check out the Volcan Fuego, an active volcano that looms over the town.

June 2, 2000

More senseless spending in the morning led me to an even newer and better pair of sandals and some multi-vitamins, which I actually feel like I need. I saw bits and pieces of the volcano between the dense storm clouds. The storm last night flooded the town, destroying many houses and even carrying away a few cars.

While waiting for the clouds to open, I noticed oil dripping from under my bike. Damn mechanic forgot the oil filter washers. I found a few quarts of oil that held me over till I returned to town and had a mechanic replace them for me for $20. While he was working, I noticed the breather hose was disconnected, so I connected it.

I didn't get on the road till 4. The drive into Michoacan was beautiful. The costal road is a bikers dream, with lots of curves, scenery, and very few cars. So few the local pedestrians took the time to acknowledge each vehicle, move to the side of the road, watch as it went by, and then continue on. While I was driving, I had some time to think of some of Mexico's peculiarities:

When giving directions, derecha really means izquierda about half the time.

On the other hand, derecho means nothing. This distinction has caused me quite some grief.

Also, when asking the time to a location, the answer varies by about plus or minus 100% of the true travel time, sometimes more. For instance, an honest 2 hour trip, some people will say 4 hours, some 30 minutes. You really need to ask about 6 people to get a statistically accurate figure.

Many times people don't know the distance in km, but given the travel speed, they can tell you how long it will take. This I have yet to understand.

Every bridge, no matter how small, has a name and a big and clear sign that you can't miss telling it to you.

Most roads, no matter how big or important, don't have names and the signs for the ones that do are small, hard to read, and strategically placed in a "where"s waldo" fashion.

The people in general are very helpful, some I understand completely, and some not a word.

Life moves alot slower here then in the states.

The cows don't lie down in the rain.

Anyways, I pulled into Maruata at 7 and setup camp under a palm palapa on the beach. The sea is extremely active following the recent storms, and I had to move my tent 3 times before finding the true water line. A local family invited me to an incredible dinner of fresh dorado grilled with salsa and tostadas.

Entering the evening was very hot. I met two girls from London, both named Laura and both just finishing up 6 months of spanish study in Guadalajara. I eventually decided to sleep in a hammock.

June 3, 2000

This small oceanside village is absolutely beautiful. The rock formations that jet out into the ocean are stunning, and the white sand beach is large, clean, and unexploited by tourists. The waves break from both sides of the bay and are large and consistent, a surfers dream. A small island offshore houses hundreds of birds of many varieties that are easy to see from the shore. Pigs and other small animals wander freely along the beach looking for food, while a group of local fisherman move together to launch a boat.

It is going to be a hot day. I explored for awhile, and ended up taking dozens of photos, lots to see. I met a group of local surfers, and a carpenter making a wedding cabinet on a lathe. Would like to get to Ixtapa tonight, some say a 3 hour drive, rapido. Just about right, I pulled into Ixtapa around 7 and decided it to touristy to stay the night. I continued on to Zihuatanejo and got a room in the Casa de Huespedes Miriam for $6.

I am really starting to get tired of the topes (speed bumps). I musta run over a thousand today. The bike is running like a champ.

June 4, 2000

Got up early, packed out, and headed over to La Playa Las Gatas for breakfast and a few hours of snorkeling. So-so. On my way to Acapulco, I stopped at a roadside fruit stand in El Cayaco. While I was standing in the middle of the road eating a bag of watermelon, an american with a big smile came running up, apparently happy to see another of his kind.

"Clay Allen is my name" he said. Clay is a 22 year old welder from Sonoma, CA that has spent the last 6 months touring Central America and Mexico, the last 2 of which he spent as a coconut farmer in El Cayaco for $6 a day. He always kept a smile, and had no worries however, since it wasn't the money he cared about.

An interesting guy, apparently with alot of travel stories and experience. We talked awhile and he introduced me to his local friends and offered I stay awhile. He had a great quote I thought funny "I am not a drug addict, but the worst part of Mexico is the lack of psychedelics". He told me of a friend in Puerto Escondito and recommended to visit Palenque. The clouds moved in and he warned me of "monsoon conditions". I decided it best to hit the road.

I motored into Acapulco by 5 with no trouble and checked into the Hotel Roja for $6. The Lonely Planet is grossly out of date here. I got dinner and watched the cliff divers, somewhat more impressive then Mazatlan.

June 5, 2000

Woke up, got a $3 haircut (perhaps the best haircut I ever had), and did my laundry. Had a tasty lunch and tried to update my website with no success. Perhaps the crappiest computers and the slowest connection yet. It didn't help that one guy was downloading MP3 files and another was playing some real-time network warfare game, god help us.

Decided to push on, and possibly make it to Puerto Escondito. After 4 hours of the worst riding so far I decided to stop in some P.National no-name town. Thunder and rain the entire trip, everything got soaked, so I layed it out to dry.

June 6, 2000

After a few hours of decent riding, I arrived in Puerto Escondido. Wasted 3 hours in an internet cafe for $9 and wouldn't you know all the work I did in Acapulco was corrupted on my disk, so I had to redo everything. By the time I was finished it was pouring, so I decided to stay the night. Found a cheap hotel and checked in. Met 3 guys cycling up from Patagonia on their way to Alaska. They have been averaging at least 100km per day, and I am sure their asses were eating them alive.

We talked awhile, and I think they enjoyed the break. I checked out their website http://www.PatagoniaAlaska.com, and can you believe their trip is being sponsored? Very nice! They took off, and I got dinner and hit the bars with some of the other vagrants. This town is full of 'em.

June 9, 2000

After dinner last night the gang went out and hit the bars. Met a very sweet girl from Chiapas named Mariana. She is studying in Mexico City to someday be a chef. We stayed up the night talking and dancing. After 4 hours of sleep and a little shopping, I decided to continue on toward Zipolite. On my way outta town, I noticed my luggage rack had cracked from the weight of the pack and the numerous topes. Found a welder that fixed it up for me lickety split and for only $2.50, what a deal.

Arrived in Zipolite at 7 and rented a cabana for $3, complete with mosquito net. Met a couple from France. Played guitar and poker for most of the night.

June 10, 2000

Zipolite is a lazy beach town. I wouldn't even call it a town, just a strip of cabanas along the beach full of "groovy" travelers all smug on watching the sea and smokin' out. Very relaxing.

After breakfast I drove the long haul to Tuxtla, about 7 hours and about all I could take. Mixed sun and rain, mountains and valleys. Checked in to Casa Muniz for $4 and headed out for dinner. It woulda been my last dinner had someone not been looking over me. On my way home I was hit by a car while walking across a street. It shifted lanes, was moving about 20 and accelerating when it hit me. The only thing going through my mind was that this was it for me.

After biking 6000 miles through Mexico, and this was how it was going to end? Walking across a street with a stomach full of tamales? The impact of the car threw me into the air and I did a complete flip over the hood and onto the ground. The car sped away, and I lay there amazed that I felt no pain. I stood up, brushed myself off, and walked away in amazement that I had made it. Somehow I managed to survive with only a small scratch on my right knee. Really makes you think...

June 11, 2000

What a day... Got up, strolled around, avoided a guy that wanted desperately to polish my sneakers. I don't fully understand these people. Took breakfast at the local market and phoned home. Spent a few hours at Zoomat, the supposedly infamous zoo. It actually was quite nice and had a very unique and creative layout (the animals weren't all in cages, imagine that). There were hundreds of exotic animals and interesting fauna. I returned to the hotel, packed out my gear, and headed out to tour the Canyons del Sumidero by boat. Played some poker with the staff while waiting for the charter to fill, lost a few pesos. The tour was great. The canyons reach 1000m at their highest and there are numerous huge waterfalls. Returned and played some more poker, this time winning my share back until it seemed like a good time to fold em' and run.

A month ago when people asked me "What do you do if it rains?", I woulda answered "I'd pull over and wait for it to pass of course, I wouldn't ride in the rain". Whatever, I have gotten over that, now I just throw the customized hefty sack over my head and take it slowly. It is now officially the rainy season here. If I didn't ride in the rain, I wouldn't get very far. I am learning though, at least this time I geared up before the rain hit. The road to San Cristobal climbs through 6000' of mountain. It is 45 miles and it rained the entire way. I let a white Nissan truck set the pace at 35 mph, which was just about right considering I only had to put my foot down once to prevent a skid.

After a half hour, my bike decided it had enough of the rain and started misfiring. This had me a bit worried, but the rain lessened as I passed over the peak and the problem went away. Probably electrical. 3 miles outside of San Cristobal I stopped in a small indian village to catch a photo of some exotic procession being held in the street. One of the members came over and I quickly learned that cameras were not to be used here. The man gave me a shot of something to warm me up, and it was more then I bargained for. Luckily, I made it safely to town before the full effect kicked in. Somehow I managed to mumble my way to Madero 83 offering bed and breakfast for only $3.50, with hot showers and even a real toilet seat! What a deal! Roomed with Alex of Belgium, cooked some quesadillas for dinner and slept like a rock. It rained all night.

June 12, 2000

Well, breakfast this morning was beans and potatoes. Needless to say I wasn't very impressed. They are promising eggs tomorrow, should I hold my breath? Spent the day walking around town seeing "the sites". Lots of interesting churches and a very impressive market, more chaotic then in Guadalajara. The nearby village indians make some very nice goods, especially clothing. Likewise the local dress is very much influenced by the indian heritage, bright colors and intricate patterns. This heritage is in fact very much alive and well here today. In '94 an oppressed indian group going by the name Zapatistas took over the town. Over 100 people died during the negotiations with the Mexican government. The Zapatistas are now held in high honor by the local indians, who sell dolls wearing black ski masks and toting machine guns in the markets.

Alex spent the day touring Tenejapa, a small village 5 miles North of town. Tomorrow we plan on taking the bike to Chamula, another village known for its exotic religious practices.

June 13, 2000

Beans and potatoes again. While eating, I met a girl named Carly from New Zealand. Both let down by the breakfast, we searched town and found a much nicer place to stay for $2.50. We shared a nice large bright room in a house all to ourselves.

Alex and I spent the day touring the villages of Chamula and San Andreas. We arrived in Chamula right in the middle of an exotic religious practice. A procession of horses and people drunk on firewater were parading around town as old men launched rockets and set off fireworks in there bare hands. Eventually they made there way to the church, played some very soothing mixed melody on instruments I had never seen before as the women breast fed their children. We stood in disbelief as this carried on for an hour. Eventually they parted. Confused, we got a pass and entered the church where photography is strictly prohibited. The room was lined with exhibits of important figures and there were over a thousand candles burning on a floor of dried pine, while groups of locals would kneel with their family, drink, pray, cry, and drink some more.

I don't think there was a sober person in the entire village. Got a very tasty lunch and headed out to San Andreas. San Andreas wasn't near as exciting, but we had an excellent view from a temple at the top of a mountain. On the way home it started to pour. We were soaked. Picked up some fruit and vegetables at the market and met Carly back at the ranch. Together we had quite a feeding, got stinkin' drunk and played cards for most of the night. Tomorrow Carly and I plan on checking out the nearby caves.

June 14, 2000

The caves were nice, about 1000 meters in length total, only 300 meters of which were explorable. Lots of stalactites and cave like such. On the way home we decided to check out Tenejapa. The trip was beautiful, but the second we arrived it started to pour. Good timing, we took shelter until it passed. There was nothing really to do or see, except for a lady with 4 teeth that wouldn't sell Carly a banana and laughed every time Carly would speak. Back at the ranch the sun was hitting hard, so I spent a few hours and took a siesta in the courtyard. 2 brothers named Felipe and Andres from Colombia moved in. They were just finishing up a year long tour. We spent the night drinking rum and firewater philosophising about cultural differences (a popular topic while traveling).

Tomorrow, Carly and Alex are headed to Tuxtla. I plan on continuing on toward Guatemala.

June 16, 2000

Provided moral support to July until around 2 and decided I had better get moving. If she makes it through, we may meet in Antigua. Welcome to Guatemala! Took an hour and $11 to fumigate and register my bike and cross the border. The ride to Panajachel was by far the most spectacular ride so far. They are actively repaving all of Guatemala. About 80% of the roads are incredible monaco style fresh black asphalt and makes me smile. The other 20% however is a potholed dirt rocky crap poor excuse for a river. The border at La Frontera is primarily a huge mountain range, sunny and dry in the valleys and cloudy and raining at the peaks.

Everything is tropical. The local dress is full of color and spirit as are the people. They are extremely friendly and speak very slowly. The primary language is Spanish and I understand almost everything they say. The unit of currency is the "quetzal" and the going rate is 7.5 to 1. They are on the metric system; however, the gas pumps meter in gallons instead of liters as in Mexico. Gas is about 16q per gallon. Among other things I caught some incredible views of volcanoes and waterfalls. The place is absolutely beautiful, and I have a feeling I will be using alot of film here. I am really starting to think i need to replace my front tire. A rough calculation on distance indicates I may not make it to Costa Rica in time to fly home for my family reunion.

June 17, 2000

Today I explored Panajachel. A definite vacationers paradise, with one main street lined with marketplaces selling colorful blankets, clothing, art and jewelry for next to nothing. A mix of real Guatemalans and people who wished they looked a little more Guatemalan.

I bought my token shirt and necklaces and took a boat trip across Lake Atitlan to Santiago, a town of similar qualities. Took loads of photos and got some postcards of things I saw but couldn't get a good photo of.

Back at the room I met a girl named Krys of the university of Iowa who, surprise, had my brother as her TA of Origins of Language. Amazing! We went out and listened to some Brazilian jazz. Tomorrow I would like to check out the market in Chichicastenango and continue on to Antigua.

June 18, 2000

It was raining when I awoke. Not a good sign. Packed out and headed to Chichi. The market there was packed. Nothing new, just more of the same. You can't buy anything here without first haggling for a half hour. Its fun at first, but it wears on you quickly, especially when you don't want anything and they wanna haggle with you anyways.

On the way outta town I followed a pickup truck with a count of over 20 people in the bed. Every corner it would take, the tailpipe would scrape ground and it would almost pitch up on two wheels. Amazing these people live so long. The scary thing is that looked like a good deal, compared to the "chicken buses" that cover the roads.

Imagine if you will, an old school bus, painted white and red with front window fringes, in desperate need of a new suspension and piston rings. People and chickens are packed in 6 across and the conductor hangs from the door trying to hold the final 4 people in. All the time the bus is pulling 35 mph down a twisting 1.5 lane mountain road, trying to pass another of the same kind. I actually saw one of these lift a wheel trying to avoid a head on collision with a truck full of pineapples.

I am quite confident I am taking the safe route by travelling on bike. Stopped to see the ruines of Iximche in Tecpan. Was more impressed with their 1:200 scale model then the ruins themselves. Got lunch at a lake park outside of Antigua.

Rellenos, fried bananas stuffed with beans and topped with sugar

Tostadas, fried tortillas topped with guacamole, beans, salsa, pickled salad and cheese

And the standard carne asada taco on handmade blue corn tortillas

Checked into the Posada Ruiz 2 for $5. Tomorrow I will move to a cheaper room.

June 20, 2000

Today I was inspired to do something, so I toured around town. Antigua is an old colonial town with wide cobblestone streets, old earthquake demolished buildings, and thousands of tourists trying to learn spanish but talking to each other all the while in english. It isn't really too "Guatemalan" (they even have a Burger King) but it is a nice place to relax.

At 1 it was looking to be a beautiful day, so I headed out with a group to hike the active Volcan Pacaya, which last erupted sometime in February. During the tour I met Tom of Kansas City (Kansas side) that was just finishing up his last few days of a year long world tour. Needless to say he had some stories. I also met a girl named Nadine from Canada, who had just finished up teaching in Culican for 2 years and is anxiously headed to Vietnam for more of the same.

The hike up the volcano was beautiful, the first hour relatively easy and the second a real climb. Wouldn't you know the moment we set foot on the top, the clouds moved in and it began to rain; out with the plastics. From the top you could see sulfuric gases rising from the rock and feel the heat through the shoes. An erupting volcano reaches temperatures in excess of 3000 degrees, we were lucky today it was only 100. The cloud cover successfully prevented us from seeing any lava, but a few people had fun lighting paper on fire from the ground. The rain got harder and the winds began to pick up. We started on our way down, and it really let on. No one else seemed too thrilled about the storm but me. I had a blast "skiing" down the slopes while practicing my yodeling technique. Everyone was in "survival mode". It was great fun.

The rain gear really didn't help at all, and by the time we reached the bottom everything was soaked. Not a dry piece of cloth to be found. But the adventure wasn't over yet... The bus ride home proved just as adventurous, as we nearly slid sideways down the side of the mountain a few times.

Everyone was cold and hungry and some were even eating dried ramen noodles. By 9:30 we made it back to the room, still not sure exactly what the volcano looked like. Would be nice to see it on a clear day. Finished off the evening with the standard hostel after hours activities.

June 21, 2000

Met Tom and Nadine in the morning for breakfast and a recap. Nadine brought along 2 German girls both named Steffani. We had quite a breakfast at a German restaurant, which the Germans agreed was legitimate, actually their words were "Ya Ya Ya". Together we spent the afternoon touring around town, and saw a pretty cool cemetary.

Tom took off to catch his plane to LA, and Nadine a bus to Panajachel. The Steff's and I spent the evening watching the movie "Matrix" at a cafe, philosophising about vegetarianism. We got some pizza (with ham) and hit a disco that shut down when someone released tear gas into the room.

Tomorrow I continue on.

June 22, 2000

Met the Stef's for lunch and headed off to El Salvador. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, nice ride. Got to the border at Valle Nuevo by 4. Got off my bike to get my visas and when I returned a police explained to me that they caught someone trying to steal my wet sneakers that I had out to dry.

They wanted me to go to the station and fill out some paperwork. When I got to the station, they had me sit and wait while they hand typed a full report for me to sign, supposedly needed to throw the crook (handcuffed to a chair) into jail. I was thinking, "Great, I get my shoes back", they were thinking "We need to keep them as evidence". After bargaining for a bit I convinced them to accept my old sandals as evidence instead, I knew I kept them hanging around for a reason.

1.5 hours later I was officially out of Guatemala. That was only half the battle, as getting into El Salvador was no easier. 2 hours of going from window to window, waiting for the slowest people I have ever met to take their fair share of the $30 they had me divvy out for me and the bike.

I hadn't planned on spending an entire day and all my money at the border, and by the time it was all through, it was dark. Realizing that El Salvador isn't the place to ride around after dark, I checked into the first hotel I found. They wanted $10, I only had $6, they accepted. I hope tomorrow is a better day.

June 23, 2000

All night the wild animals and the insanely loud office stereo did their best to keep me awake. It seems the only people who travel this route are the truckers that are in a hurry to get further south.

Here the unit of currency is the Colon and it trades for 8.5:1. A gallon of 97 octane (is this even possible) gas costs 22 Colones. The local beer is "Pilsener", and it is alot better then "Gallo" the Guatemalan brew.

Today I drove hard. Stopped for an El Salvadorian fast food breakfast at "Biggest" just outside of San Salvador. It was suprisingly good. Passed through the overly crowded and dirty city as quickly as possible and continued on.

Stopped in San Miguel and had a few "pupusas" (kinda like a quesadilla) for lunch. Crossing borders is perhaps the worst part of travelling. Everyone wants your money and they are in a position to take it from you. If you complain it only gets worse.

Leaving El Salvador was no problem, but entering Honduras they first wanted $21 for the bike and then changed their mind to $33. They were getting on my nerves, so I decided to make a dash over the border. While the guard at the gate was busy, I drove through, and quickly. I made it to Choluteca in 1 hour (record time), all the while looking in the rear view mirror. Welcome to Honduras, hope they don't get me on the way out.

Got a room at the Hotel Pacifico for $3 and went out for a stroll. Had my first death threat at a local bar where a baracho (drunk idiot) wanted my shoes. He said "Cambio zapatos" and when I told him "no", he raised his beer bottle and said "Tu quieres muerto?" Things got rough and my tshirt was torn and somehow I avoided disaster with a broken beer bottle. What is it about these shoes?

After fleeing the scene, I realized I hadn't paid my bar tab, so it wasn't so bad after all. On the way back to the room, I met a nice guy who offered me a shirt and a taxi back. I decided it best to walk.

Entering Nicaragua was the same deal, $30 and 2 hours. I met a car salesman from Costa Rica at the border, who was bringing a $1000 LA car down to sell for $5000. He said it takes him 5 days to drive, not bad for a weeks work. He gave me his card and wants me to call him about selling my bike once I get there. The first 50 miles of road in Nicaragua were the worst so far, after which things cleared up more or less.

On my way into Leon, I met 3 americans Anish, Will, and Matt. They are volunteering to help out with a diet assessment study in Managua, the capital city and were spending the weekend in Leon. Apparently Managua isn't such a lovely place. They recommended things to do and places to stay. I checked into Hotel Avenida for $4, took a stroll, and updated my website (the best connection so far).

Met the three amigos back at the hotel and we spent the evening hanging out in the central park where they hold a town wide fiesta every Saturday. There is talk of spending some time at the beach tomorrow morning.

June 25, 2000

The unit of currency in Nicaragua is the "cordoba" and it exchanges at 12.6:1, figure that out in your head. Gas here is pricey at just under $3 per gallon. Leon is a fairly colonial and quaint town, very much Nicaraguanese with its machine gun riddled old stone and cement buildings and sassy people. Home of Central Americas largest church, Nicaraguas first university, and the famous poets Dario and Corteza. Went to the beach Poneloya, and had a good time watching the 3 amigos near drown in the heavy surf. Took the long road to Masaya trying to avoid a storm. The road was in poor shape, and I got rained on anyways. Pulled into Masaya at 7 and checked into Hospedaje Masayita for $4. I desperately need more cash, I only have $2 left. Would like to tour the local lakes and volcanoes tomorrow.

June 26, 2000

The roosters began promptly at 6, followed closely by the firecrackers at 7. There isn't a whole lotta respect here for sleepers. Nicaraguans seem to live by a few simple rules: Make as much senseless noise as possible with whatever you own, and if you don't own it try to get it.

If there is a Nicaraguan mafia, I am sure the lady owner of my hotel is in charge. She speaks in a "Joey" deep and muttled voice, all the while people entering the room with handfuls of bills. A very italian atmosphere here.

Toured town and managed to find an ATM in the marketplace, possibly the only one in Nicaragua. Checked out the steaming Masaya Volcano, still quite active and smoking hard, impressive. Continued on to take a swim in Lago Apoyo, a fresh water lake formed by the collapse of an old volcano nearby.

Too late to catch the last ferry to Isla de Ometepe, I continued on and checked into Beach Fun in San Juan del Sur where I met a local web designer named Juan Basilio Sanchez of Esteli playing guitar in the lobby. He taught me a few spanish style songs which I quickly forgot.

June 27, 2000

They want .20 per minute for internet access here! Forget it, I say. Got breakfast at the market, rice and beans, eggs, bread and juice for $1, not bad.

Played some guitar and took a hike along the coast and up and into the neighboring hillside, where there are fortunately some really nice remote beaches, and unfortunately a good deal of "richmanwannabeattopofhill" developments underway. Very nice views.

Returned to the room, and met a group including: Giles of London, Alastair and Matt of New Zealand, and Patrick of San Diego. We hung out, did some swimming (surfing?) in the ocean and spent the majority of the day in a bar talking to "Dale Dagger" of www.nicasurf.com, a self-indulgent 50 year old surfer of San Diego that makes a living as a surf guide locally for tourists willing and able to shell out $150 per day to surf here on his boat of pretty women. Says he is booked for 6 months.

July 1, 2000

In the middle of the night I got "very ill". Took a stomach tranquilizer and started taking antibiotics, Ciprofloxacin 2/day for 10 days. By morning I felt alot better. Packed out and caught the 12:30 ferry. That sounds so easy when I put it that way, when in fact nothing is so easy in Nicaragua. Case in point, the border crossing. I shit you not, here was the procedure...

About 100 yards from the border a somewhat official looking man held out his hand signalling me to stop (seeing that I obviously wasn't a local). Apparently the town wants a buck before I leave, some sort of exit tax. I take my receipt and continue on as instructed down the wrong side of a two way road under major reconstruction to what appears (unmarked of course) to be the aduana and migration offices.

Upon nearing, I must swerve to avoid the 30 kids running at me wanting to watch my bike, as though aI trust any of them anymore then anyone else. I pick on that looks the most trustworthy, because you have to pick one or they won't stop bothering you. I walk in to find a desk with, judging by the line, the "important officials" behind it. I wait, pay $4, wait, receive a passport visa stamp. The officer instructs me to move to a second line.

I wait, am asked to provide my bike papers, and when I do am asked to go get some photocopies of the papers and additional set of papers I am given. The closest photocopier is 1/4 mile back down the road. .10 later and two copies just to be sure I return. End of the line. Exchange copies, stamp. Not done yet, I must cross the street to another unmarked office, wait for the official to finish a game of solitaire and reboot his computer. He eyes me good and hard, decides to give me a stamp. Back across the street to a line adjacent to the first. Man verifies other stamps and turns the paper over and signs and dates the back side in a seemingly unofficial way. He points me to a 3rd office.

When I get there they turn me back, apparently the date he wrote was "illegible". Return, redate, return. Wait, I haven't yet paid "the fee". Oh lord, must go to the neighboring bank, where the lady takes $10 and hands me a bank receipt. Take the receipt to another window, where it is exchanged for a more official receipt.

Return to official, he takes receipt and hands me another piece of paper and scribbles a note on the back. Points me back to the second line. Man reads note and signs his name next to it. Opens an old spiral journal and jots something in it. Sends me to the actual crossing guards with a new handful of papers and receipts.

At the border, 3 guards meet me, each looking for a different paper and signature. One looks a little dissatisfied. I act stupid. The others nod him off and wave me through, my lucky day! Total exit time 2 hours. Welcome to Costa Rica! Similar procedure on the way in, but at least all the "officials" were located in the same room. Entry time, 15 minutes. Finally a country with their act together.

I happily checked in to a hotel in Liberia for $5.

July 2, 2000

This morning I met Theresita of Oregon, who has been in Costa Rica for 6 months in true "escape the world" form. After a rash of problems piled up on her, she decided to pack her bags and go. When I met her, she had just passed a fiasco with her recent and local boyfriend and soon to be fiance, maybe things aren't moving so smoothly for her here either. Anyways, I was on my way to check out Parque Rincon del Viejo and invited her along. The park, like most of Costa Rica, is a preserved rain forest, complete with monkeys and parrots, and things that go "goo" in the night.

We hiked a 5km trail to a secluded waterfall. My first true rain forest monkey! The forest was beautiful, and the waterfall was very impressive. I took a cold swim. We talked a bunch and turns out she is a niece of Gloria Vanderbelt. Needless to say she had some interesting stories about "the good life" and why she is avoiding it. She seems to be missing home and plans on returning soon.

We returned to the hotel. With dinner upon me, I come to the stark realization that there just aren't many choices for a recovering sick boy here. Its either a banana, or a half of a deep fried chicken. You just can't ease yer way back to the "hard stuff". Kinda disappointing this lack of choice and diversity. On the other hand this is the place to be if you aren't in the mood for making decisions.

July 3, 2000

Took a stroll to stock up on some food and cash and ran into the San Juan gang. Apparently they never made it to Ometepe, just stayed put in San Juan, drinking with their good buddy Dale. They decided to take off toward the coast, and I toward the mountains, MonteVerde to be exact.

Another ecological reserve famous for its cloud forest and wildlife. The road was terrible, by far the worst so far. Not at all looking forward to the trip out. May stay a few days, since there is alot to see here. Plan on doing a canopy tour tomorrow morning, then hiking into the reserve and camping a few nights.

Met two girls of Canada. Went out for dinner and dancing.

July 4, 2000

The canopy tour of the Santa Elena Reserve (SkyTrek) was fun. It covered 2.5 km of the cloud forest with an 80m suspension bridge and 10 cables of up to 420m in length. In my group, interestingly enough were the Kites' of York, PA (Mr. Kite is very Yorkian; he even owns a lawnmower shop), and the Andersons of New Hampshire. We all had good fun riding the cables and learning a bit about the forest during the inbetweens.

Returned to the room, and packed up. Armed with camera, change of clothes, a silk sheet and underwear, a tent, and a small bit of food all stuffed into my day pack I set out on a 3 day trek through the MontVerde rain forest.

Touring Ometepe, Parque Rincon del Viejo, & the Monteverde SkyTrek

(21 exhibits)

Day 1

An 8km, 3 hour hike to Aleman Refuge. An easy hike, but my pack hurt in all the wrong places, so it felt rough. Got a few pix, but the rain forest is a dark place and most of the sights are tough to frame. Made it to the Refuge by nightfall, all alone. The Aleman Refuge is a nice little cabin in a small tropic meadow. Setup camp, cooked spaghetti for dinner, and off to bed.

July 5, 2000

Day 2

I had originally planned on moving camp 3 hours deeper into the forest to the Eladio Refuge, but instead decided it best to visit the refuge as a day trip, and return for the night, so I left most of my heavy stuff behind and set out. Saw lots of insects, plants, and mud. A tough 6km 3 hour hike through some very thick and very real jungle. It was a good idea to leave the gear behind. Unfortunately I also left my DEET behind and the flies had a wonderful time of it. I woulda thought no one else to be so crazy to take on such a trek, apparently, so did Pepe and Mauricio; two tica medical students. The expressions on our faces must have told a story as I approached the refuge that they had stayed at the night before. Upon arriving, I noticed the two in great danger. The story goes something like this...

Mauricio and Pepe's Story

We talked awhile, and they offered me a bowl of cereal (did I look that bad?), which I accepted, and a place to stay in San Luis near Tilaron half way to Fortuna. I did the return trip to Aleman in only 2 hours, sweating like a pig. Surprise, visitors! Tim and Missy of Forestville, CA also spending the night. Cold shower and mac and cheese for dinner, I am beat.

July 6, 2000

Day 3

Around 9, the three of us packed out and started the hike out. Gave us plenty of time for "get to know each other" talk. They plan on mailing me some photos from their trip when they return. They strongly recommended river rafting the Rio Pacuare. The hike out was much harder then the hike in, since it was all uphill, and took 3.5 hours. We stopped alot to take pictures (good excuse to rest). On the way back to the hotel, I stopped at Stella's bakery for lunch. Very good, and very much needed. Met a girl named Colleen Neimack of Pasadena, CA, who has spent the last 5 months studying spanish and taking an active role in the local art scene. She invited me to visit the Community Art Center, where I learned how to "spin" a pot thanks to Doc of SLO and see the painting Colleen was working on. Back at the hotel, I ran into Pepe and Mauricio, also tired from the hike out, and we spent the evening talking medicine and electronics at a local eatery which served up a wicked good homemade yogurt and blackberry shake.

July 7, 2000

Finally, got word from Carlos of San Jose, who wants me to call him. Apparently, all his friends and family are visiting this weekend, so he's got a full house. I decided to head toward Volcan Arenal instead and turn south later in the week. All my worries for nothing, the road to San Luis was no problem at all. On top of that, it was a beautiful day, so I was happy and smiling. Managed to find Pepe's place from a crude map he drew for me in MonteVerde. A nice vacation home on Lake Arenal, across from the volcano. We did some hiking around the lake and found a bunch of monkeys high up in the trees. We spent over an hour trying to coax them down from the tree with no success. Pepe almost got pee-ed on. Back at the house we spent the evening playing guitar, banging on congos, and singing.

July 8, 2000

Other then visit the lake, there really isn't anything to do in San Luis. It is a very small town with a population of 30 or so. We lazied around for most of the morning and eventually were inspired to rent a boat and give a try fishin'. Pepe rigged up the lines with bananas... Bananas? I was kinda reluctant to think the fish would go for a banana, but Pepe assured me that Costa Rican fish dig bananas. No luck, not even a nibble. Tired of paddling against the current, we ate the bananas and retired the boat. Met a group of wake boarders and hit them up for a pull. Wake boarding Lake Arenal. It's no Naci. but the water is warm, and it isn't so crowded. Had the locals thinking I was a pro with my wicked-bad-ass moves. Signed some autographs, and headed out for dinner. True Costa Rican cuisine complete with mango shake for $5.

July 9, 2000

Rainy day. Got up, played cards with Pepe and sis, and headed down to the lake for a swim. Had some terribly pathetic food for lunch, said my goodbyes, and took off around the lake to La Fortuna. La Fortuna is the closest town (6km) from Volcan Arenal, a very big and active volcano. The road around the lake was for the most part good. Checked into Cabana Alicia for $3 and headed out to Rio Tabacon after dark for a swim. Tabacon is a fresh water hot spring river, about bath temperature. There is a resort setup ready to accept $6 from anyone wanting to slip into the pools. I snuck in when they weren't looking. The hot springs were excellent, the water flows quick and clean, without the sulfur stink of most springs. Met an older couple from CA that now live in Costa Rica. We talked about border crossings for an hour while lounging. Another vote for rafting the Pacuare. Would like to visit the local waterfalls and possibly the volcano tomorrow.

July 10, 2000

Toured the Verano Caves of Verano, a nearby town, in the morning. A underground river, dark and dangerous, complete with tarantula, scorpions, and bats and their poop. Armed with a flashlight, helmet and respirator, I made my way around a mile of waste deep waters looking with awe at the stalactites/mites and the like. Carrying a camera was more trouble then worth, we'll see if anything develops. In general, a very impressive tour, but not for the easily spooked or fat. At times I found myself squeezing through holes and caves only slightly larger then my head, half full of water. On the way back to La Fortuna, I stopped to see a butterfly farm, where I somehow managed to make $1.50 on the exchange. My favorite butterfly is the Morphos, which is bright blue and can get up to a foot across. I saw one in MonteVerde. Looking like a nice day, I signed up to tour Volcan Arenal. Once again, the weather beat me, and all I saw was the inside of a cloud. At least it didn't pour rain like before, and I got to hear rocks being thrown from the supposed fire breathing beast. Afterwards we went to a rather lame hot spring resort, essentially a big swimming pool with luke warm water, no comparison to the springs of yesterday. My stomach started acting up, think I am due for another sickness.

July 11, 2000

Definitely not feeling well. Went to the waterfall anyways, hoping the sickness would just go away if I ignored it enough. The waterfall was most impressive, the tallest and most powerful I have seen so far. Packed up and continued on toward Volcan Poas. Perfect weather and a nice ride until the shifter linkage fell apart. Bailing wire to the rescue, a few wraps and it was good as new. The La Paz waterfall took me by surprise. Right by the side of the road it crashes and flows under a beautiful old wooden bridge. I stopped for some pix. Asked around, and got myself a room in a local family's house for $5. They like to make noise. They must be Nicaraguans that have moved to Costa Rica.

July 12, 2000

Definitely Nicaraguan! 5am Mexican radio at volume 11. Not exactly my idea of pleasant. Can we say "respect", anyone? Is this guy the designated town alarm clock, or is he just clueless? Being ill makes it all worse. Well I am awake, might as well use the bathroom. As I make my way to the bathroom, I notice the lady of the house mopping the floor with straight chlorine bleach, pleasant. At least the house is clean I think, until I sit down on the toilet and notice the floor is pathetically dirty. I think this must be a bad dream. Things just don't make alot of sense around here sometimes. Instead of being so hard working, these people should try working smarter, and relaxing a bit. Earplug to the rescue, I try to shut eye and wish it all away. All day I lay and wonder if I will ever again feel better. I finally give in and take a visit to the local doc. I explain to her my previous sicknesses and my self prescriptions, which she agrees with. I lay down and she finds I have colonitis, an inflamed colon resulting from the previous illness. She prescribes me with activated carbon 6/day and espasmocarlase 3/day for 3 days, to help flush it out. The bill, $15 including medicine, what a deal, I feel better already. She recommends further lab work when I return to the states. I try to get in touch with Carlos once again, no luck.

July 14, 2000

Raining off and on, and dense fog; looks like I won't be seeing much of Volcan Poas today either. Jumped on my bike and took off in search of Carlos in Desamparados, a suburb 5 minutes south of San Jose. San Jose is a big and very "american" city, they have a Fridays, say no more. Managed to find my way to Desamparados and an internet cafe, where I spent most of the day reading email and updating my site. Still no word from Carlos, so I called Mauricio. Mauricio and family live in Tibas, another suburb 5 minutes North of San Jose. His entire family is involved in the medical field, and needless to say they have a beautiful house. He invited me to stay. We spent the evening catching up and touring the local hot spots.

July 16, 2000

Tomorrow is Mauricio's first day back in med. school, so he had his nose deep in the books trying to get a head start. I decided to do a little mountain biking. Well, a little quickly turned into alot and I soon found myself carrying my bike through a thick forest looking for the supposed trail. Steeps hills and and lots of sweating, it is times like this when I recognize a great respect for people like Pete of

AdventureProne.com who somehow managed to bike the entire coast from San Francisco to Ecuador. After hours I managed to find the trail and make my way back to town. Took a siesta and had some incredible vegetarian food for lunch. Aside from my continued stomach pains, I felt like such the health nut. Mauricio went and picked up Pepe, and the three of us spent the evening playing guitar and talking travel. Called Daniel (the car salesman I met at the border) about the bike. He will call back when he finds out more about the taxes and such.

July 17, 2000

Lucky break #1, Mauricio's father is a lab microbiologist. He performed some fecal tests (glad I am not him), and determined me to have Entamoeba Coli quistes, an intestinal single cellular parasite responsible for all sorts of trouble, common to Nicaragua. Lucky break #2, Mauricio's brother is a doctor. He prescribed me with the medicine I need to beat this parasite senseless, 750 mg Metronidazol (Flagyl) 3 per day for 10 days. With all of these breaks, I start to wonder if this makes me a lucky guy? If the bugs don't do me in, I am guessing the medicine will. He suggests further and more specialized testing after treatment. Enough about illness, let's talk about happier things. My bike for example. Today I found out about the highly controversial Moto Law that went into effect June 6th, lucky me I am not exempt. Costa Rica is now requiring a Certificate of Emissions for vehicle import sale. Understandable, they don't want my bike polluting their country. Not understandable, even though they have the equipment, they refuse to test my bike here; I must have it done in the states. Problem, they don't do emission testing on bikes in the states, and even if they did I don't plan on driving back only to find out my bike doesn't emit shit for gases, at least compared to the bus that passed me yesterday. Why wasn't I told this when I asked about selling my bike at the border? I may have no choice but to forfeit my bike to the country, along with the other 400 bikes piled up in customs since this law has taken effect. I gotta think of something crafty, wonderfully just what I wanted to spend my week doing. If it isn't the medicine that gets me, it will surely be the government. I have reservations for a plane back to the states on Wednesday, do I take it?

July 18, 2000

Well, I talked to David in the morning. He assured me he could get me "the papers" I need to sell the bike. Apparently he is headed to LA on Monday and knows someone who can produce the false evidence. We'll see... I extended the bike permit for another month to give him some time. I also decided it best to postpone my flight until next week, to give me time to straighten this all out, and possibly see Carlos. Carlos' family is still in town, so he pawned me off on a friend of his, Lucia. We met for lunch. Lucia is a 24 year old single mother living in Desamparados, studying computers and electronics. I thought it interesting that she makes all her own clothing, pretty, smart, and talented. She has a daughter of 5 who for the most part lives with Lucia's mother a few blocks away. Lucia also spends most of her time at her mother's house, in fact she is considering moving closer soon. I spent the remainder of my day back at Mauricio's, eating incredible vegetarian food (his mother cooks some of the best foods I have ever had), talking to his brother Roberto about amoebas and the internet, and Mauricio about putting together an extended bicycle tour to explore the ruins of the Yucatan, Honduras, and Guatemala some time next year. He is going to work with Pepe on the details in the meantime. I packed out and headed over to Lucia's. Unfortunately, she wasn't around and the keys were misplaced, so I ended up having the pleasure listening to her neighbor, a born again christian, try preaching to me while at the same time practicing his english. It only took a couple of hours of appearing completely uninterested and deathly tired before I was off the hook. I setup camp.

July 19, 2000

Lucia woke me up at 7, pleading to be forgiven and obviously sorry to have locked me out. I actually enjoyed sleeping outside, refreshing. She, off to work, and me back to bed. We met up for lunch in the afternoon in the city. Picked up my plane tickets at OTEC for San Jose to Philadelphia for only $235 after tax, can you believe? Picked up a Paco Lucia flamenco CD that Mauricio had recommended and some local mix that I don't actually much care for. Maybe I'll trade it for another Paco. Thought about going to the museums, but changed my mind and returned home for a nap instead, tired from my sickness and medication. Later in the evening I headed over to Mauricio's to pick up more of the deathly drug. He was busy studying (read playing guitar). We talked a bit about the chemical composition of Flagyl, actually quite interesting. Apparently, a chemical inherent to anaerobic cells strips off the drugs "protective coating", thus exposing the payload, a ring of carbon and nitrogen skilled at quickly distorting the otherwise helical DNA to a point where it can no longer duplicate, thus eventually killing off the cell. Aerobic cells however, are unable to strip off the coating and thus remain unaffected, or so the theory goes. Once again, we'll see...

July 20, 2000

Got up early, and headed out to get some fruit for breakfast. All this work is exhausting. Took a nap. Updated my website at the local internet cafe and checked my email. Met up with Lucia back at the house and we headed out to see "Mision Imposible 2" using some free tickets she had for the local multiplex. Picked up a Big Mac at Mc Donalds and was accused of being a "boracho" by the cashier when I went to take a picture of it. The lady was embarassed when she found out I knew what she had said. Serves her right. Knowing a bit of spanish is a good thing to keep these folk in line. The movie was full of action and very very loud. Something about a synthetic killer virus and its complimentary anti-virus, and someone trying to make a buck and a pretty woman and a man falling in love. I never quite knew what was going on but eventually the good guys won and it made for a happy ending. I have to say it had quite a bit of special effects, and some really exciting but non-credible motorcycle driving stunts that had me on the edge of the seat. Lucia cooked up a grand dinner, listened to "Moby - Play", and off to bed.

July 22, 2000

Day #100 of my journey! Time just seems to be movin' like a rocket. Went over to Mauricio's and spent the day helping him build a table for his dream green house. Later in the evening we went over to Pepe's and helped him celebrate. He was surprised and happy to see us. We spent the night banging on congos and guitars trying to make as much noise as possible. Convinced that we were good, we eventually moved the celebration to central park and put out a cup to try and make a buck. The only thing we made was enemies with the police who quickly came and told us to leave. It was when I tried to get a picture of the cop when things got rough. One of em' came swinging at me with his billy club. He was quickly disarmed by another and they demanded I erase the photo... As if. When they weren't looking I hid the memory card in my shoe. Eventually they let us free, and we all gathered back at Pepe's for a review. Turns out I got a picture of the guard smiling, not much of a reward.

July 25, 2000

Definately a cold. Imagine that, as if having amoebas wasn't enough, now I am fighting multiple illness. Today Costa Rica celebrates the joining of the Guanacaste region of the north. Out on the streets I witnessed an interesting parade, where everyone dresses up to ride around on oxen and horses that show definate signs of narcotic abuse; clippety clopping around and foaming at the mouth. Every now and then some firecrackers go off. Exciting. I got some photos, a haircut, and took off to meet Mauricio at the guitar shop to "finalize" the deal. The anticipated guitar; a custom and handmade flamenco style of rosewood and cedar, pura vida, with a claimed value over $2500. Seemed like a good trade so we shook hands. I returned to the house to hopefully meet up with Carlos who supposedly was coming. Well, once again, no Carlos, but this time he had a good excuse. "My mom took the car". Jesus! I drove over 10,000 miles over 3 months down through Mexico and Central America to see him and he couldn't walk a few blocks down the street? After some stark talk he managed to find a way. The legendary Carlos shows his face! We briefly caught up on old times. Carlos' story goes something like; still a student, not married but "doin' alright for himself", picked up on art (he is quite good at oil painting and photography) and a few pounds. He can't see himself living in the states anymore, because they just aren't "groovy enough" for him. He is currently living in the same house he grew up in 20 years ago. Other then that he hasn't really changed at all. Later we headed back to his place to spend the evening with 3 generations of his family, who were quite busy eating enchiladas and cheesy jalapeno peppers, while putting back shots of tequila. A tough crowd for a sick boy. Later in the evening we were graced by the guest appearance of Victor, Carlos' older brother and another Zebe. The reunion was complete. Victor's story is quite different. He finished up a masters degree in Bio and spends most of his time dedicated to work, researching strange bugs and such in places like Monteverde. Living in the states and full of jolly and smiles. Looks like he has been taking good care of himself. As the evening progressed, so did my illness, and when everyone headed out to the bars I went to bed.

July 26, 2000

A rainy day, perfect for a 1pm flight home. Carlos is to take me to the airport, but for some reason I think it best to remind him. Spent the morning packing up and grooving to "Ana Torroja - Ya no te quiero" and "Mana". Well, "his mom took the car" again and I found myself racing to strap my gear onto my bike using some old brake cable wire laying around and heading over to Mauricio's to drop of the bike and catch a cab. Pathetic? Got to the airport and paid the surprise exit tax of $17, leaving me with precisely 640 colones or US $2 in my pocket, close. The flight home was uneventful, except for the fact that I had a great view out the window of the plane and a much welcomed vegetarian meal. It is times like these when airplane food doesn't seem so bad. Cleared customs in houston, where they made me ditch a bag of grapes I was nursing on and continued on to Phila. where mom was patiently and nervously waiting to pick me up. Smiles and hugs. Welcome home! The grand ol' US of A. My first impression was one of shock. Everything was in english. No longer was I to struggle with some of the simpler things in life, like deciphering directions to the nearest bathroom or the exit. No more bribes and bargaining. My mind took a deep breath and sigh of relief. Then came the people, comparitively loud, obnoxious, and obviously well to do. I can't honestly say that the Central Americans weren't loud and obnoxious at times too, but they definately show it in different ways. For instance, while waiting for my bag there was a kid standing next to me with a barf bag worn like a crown on his head, running his mouth like a steam train at someone of similar traits also quite busy talking, no one listening. While on the other side of me an obease lady was busy going on and on about how hot the plane ride was and how slow the baggage was, and god help her if something happened to her new blouse the hell she would raise. Oh, she is also getting a perm on thursday.

Los Angeles

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