Tegucigalpa

After two days battling my second stomach bug of the trip in Ocotal I tried biking 140 km through the mtns to the capital of Honduras, Tegucigalpa. The ride lasted 70km until I was dizzy and dead tired beside the road and having to catch the first bus of the trip the last 70 km to the capital. Training tip; not eating for two days and still half sick is not a good time to try a 7 hr, 3000 m vertical ride. I have been in this chaos of 1.2 million for 3 days now still trying to recover. Went for a 3 hr ride downtown and up to a lookout over the city yesterday and have decided that riding in large central america cities is the perfect training for any type of biker. For one it teaches you to be 100% focused throughout the whole ride as if you phase out for a second you will be taken out by a vehicle and become a hood ornament. Two, it is great for bike handling skills as your constantly weaving between vehicles, jumping curves and dodging pedestrians. Three, it is great practice for race starts as every light is a new 20 second interval as you sprint to keep your place in the traffic. Four, its probably the quickest most efficient way of getting to see the sights of a city while at the sametime getting a decent workout. I now have a new respect for bicycle couriers.

Currently the UNCAF Futbol Cup is taking place as the 7 Central American Nations battle it out for a spot in next years World Cup. Last night myself and an American companion went to the Panama, Guatemala match and were probably the only two gringos in the building. Some drunks started a gringo chant for a minute before the Policia shut them down. Panama won 1-0 which was too bad as they were a bunch of divers. 3 players got carried off on stretchers, each one was back in the game within 5 minutes. The fans here are great hecklers though and let them have it. I learned some new spanish words to heckle the Calgary Flames next time they head to Edmonton. Off for more rice and beans. Chow

The Real Nicaragua

After over a week in the toursity side of Nicaragua I headed up into the highlands and spent three days riding over mtn passes and through forest reserves. It was like being in a different country as the people up here weren´t affected by the tourist dollar yet so there were no scams, no begging kids and no crazy raxi drivers. Life seemed pretty simple, people hung out alot, drank alot of cokes and ate lot´s of rice and beans. The dogs were pretty relaxed as well as I figure they´re either to hot or to hungry to give chase to a biker. Im beggining to think that the economy of a country could be judged solely by sending a single biker to bike through the country and count the number of dog chases to total loose dogs. Fairly simple formula as I figure the richer the country the more vicous the dogs as they are better nourished and taken cared of. I will write a book on this theory once I return to Canada. Todays ride started with the plan of riding 40 km over rough roads back to the pan am highway and then to head north up to the Nicaraguan boarder town of Ocotal. 4km into the ride the plan changed as there was another road heading up a 900 m vertical acent into a plateau at 1400 m and the cloudforest reserve of Miraflor. Having only enough food and water to last the 3 hr ride I planned to the pan am highway and not for a 6 hr detour I stopped into the next house I came across and asked to buy some food. The family was pretty stoked and served up a plate of tortillas, cheese, beans and coffee, filled my water bottles and then refused my money. Not sure how to thank my generous host family of 9, who lived in a single room house, I gave them a slideshow of Canada including pics of biking in the snow and Mtn Robson which impressed them to say the least. Afterwards it was onto another ride through the heat of another scorching Nicaraguan day. Tommorow its off to the unknown land of Honduras.

Land of Nicas

After some epic rides coming into Nicaragua and dealing with the low ballers around the boarder crossing I finally set foot into the land of Volcanos and lakes and put myself and the bike down to rest for 4 days. I studied spanish, my bike collected dust but soon enough it was game time again and we were off to the colonial city of Granada. Riding around Nica land is alot different from Costa Rica as this is the 2nd poorest country in the western hemisphere and over half the population lives well below poverty. In Costa Rica people generally live like we do in Canada, working to improve there social status and increase there ease of living. In Nicaragua the people work to live, often earning around one dollar a day for 10 hrs of back breaking work in the sweltering sun or trying to work there marketing skills down in the mercado central. People struggle to live here, the kids are constantly begging for money and food, garbage is everywhere and urine flows down the streets as bathrooms are hard to come by. Nicaragua also has some spectacular sites though and is slowly becoming a tourist haven as the cheap prices (1.5 meals, 4 dollar beds), dozens of volcanos, colonial churches and natural reserves is slowly making tourism the second greatest contributor to the economy. Riding a full suspension carbon bike down here gets some looks to say the least and somedays I figure Im in hollywood with all the attention. Today though my ego was taken down a level as a taxi driver swerved in front of me then slammed on his breaks as he tried to make a right hand turn. With no time to react I road into him pretty hard but still managing to stay up right. Pretty choked I went up to the window and said a few words till I realized the guy was over 250 lbs and undoing his seatbelt getting ready to get out. Being a better biker then Sumo wrestler I hopped back on my bike and began riding up the shoulder against the traffic to a more peaceful setting while the large taxi man yelled some unknown spanish words in my direction. Apparently not everyone is friendly in this country and I must try to remeber to and roll within the path of least resistance if I want to stay safe. As for the rest of the ride it was the best ever in Nicaragua. Leaving Granada at 7am I climbed slightly up an old volcano and then decended into the crater lake of Lago Apoyo where I spent the afternoon floating around on tubes and jumping off docks at the Monkey Hut lodge. In the evening I hopped back on the bike and road up Volcan Masaya in the dusk to look into the depths of hell as smoke plummed from its crater. After a false eruption a few years back in which one rock shot out of the Volcano and landed on an Italians car it is now mandatory to back into the parking spaces so people are ready to roll if things heat up. Decending back into Masaya for a nights rest I am preparing for whatever tommorow might bring.

Argentinians and shortcuts

Riding up the pacific coast of Costa Rica is perfect for a mountain biker with dirt roads, few cars and lots of beach riding and surf towns all over the place. After a few good days in the saddle I came to Tamarindo, Costa Rica's premier beach resort which probably has 7 tourists to each local. After surfing and biking my sunday away I headed to bed at 8 as the next day I had a 10 hr ride to Nicaragua and was hoping to get an early start. All packed and in bed my plan was going well until 9 ramped up Argentinian girls checked into the hostal. Soon enough myself, 2 Swedes and a couple Kiwis were accompanying our new guests down the strip to the local dance club. Being saturday night all the clubs had 3 to 5 $ cover charges and none of us were to keen on bucking up so we hung around outside with the 9 Argentinians dancing on the street to the blaring music. One of the Kiwis must of been a bussinesman as he figured that the clubs should be paying us to go in with our dancing team and soon enough he had coaxed one of the bigger clubs in waiving the cover for our group. Inside the problems started as none of us guys were to great at dancing and next to the Argentinians we probably looked like a bunch of pee wee girls trying to play hockey with the Oilers of the 80's. After about 3 minutes all us guys were dizzy, out of breath and tangled up in our feet but to our relief the music stopped and the light opened up on the stage. Not sure what was coming we were stoked until we realized we were in the drag queen bar. Not cool. None the less the night went on and after 4 hrs of sleep I was on my voyage to Nicaragua. A little behind schedule and not quite 100% I started looking for shortcuts. My National Geographic map showed a couple dirt roads cutting across the Guanacaste land of Costa Rica and linking onto the Panam Highway. The first road ended up being a longcut and probably doubled the time the original route wouldve taken as it climbed up and down steep dirt rutted roads and after 3 hrs I had gone just over 25 km. The second shortcut was about 4 times worse as first I ended up in a remote government camp being told to turn around but after some negotiations one of the members said I could continue on my tour through the Guanacaste agriculture land but the fact he was smiling shouldve been anough to warn me of what was to come in the next 4 hrs. Travelling 24 km across cattle pastures, through 4 locked steal gates and 9 barb wire fences and past one very sketchy house with a dead cow and a broken car outside and one kid running inside I was pretty sketched as it reminded of a scene from Texas chainsaw massacre. Putting whatever power was left in my legs I continued on with two barking dogs putting chase, one with a very bad limp and the other looking drunk and probably full of rabies. They were poor chasers though and I continued on my lost journey eventually coming to a thick clump of trees with a large river. Emerging from the brush onto the riverbank I startled the 40 to 50 costa ricans who were trying to relax there day away. One old man asked with a crazed look across his face "what the heck are you doing kid and where are you going?" Not sure of either answer I put a smirk on my face, saluted the rest of the onlookers and continued on my way to the next town where I found the closest restaurant and then a spot to relax my aching body for the night. Ending up nowhere near Nicaragua and probably having only travelled 70 or 80 km on the day I prayed for no more shortcuts and for at least one night no more Argentinians.

Becoming more Tico

After a pretty lackluster Christmas the rest of the holidays were top notch as I spent over a week with Ronald and his family in there two homes, one near San Jose city and the other out in the countryside near the pacific ocean. Being fed gourmet Costa Rican cuisine, learning some spanish while speaking to his parents and girlfriend, eating sushi and gelato down at the Super Mall and going on 5 hr rides up into the mtns and down XXX downhills made for a pretty wicked time. Staying with there family was like being home and was the perfect place to stop and rest for a while and prepare for the second half of my journey as I head towards the Transmexicana bike race. On January 4th I bid farewell to my Tico family and left at 9:15 am to catch the 11am ferry in Punta Arenas to crossover to the Nicoya Peninsula. The ride was over 55 km away so time was a factor but Ronald set a nasty pace and took us on a few short cuts through the forest and we arrived at the ferry at 11:00 where I hopped on the boat as it was pulling away. The next two days were spent in the surf village of Mal Pais which is the coolest place in all of Costa Rica. Sweet waves, long beachs, waterfall jumping, tarzan swings, ample food, beach bonfires and the best hostal in the country makes for a pretty wicked set up. After a day of R&R its back on the bike as I head north up the coastal dirt road through a handful of Costa Rican surf towns and onwards to the more primitive Nicaragua.