A Backroad Into Texas
Texas is my thirtieth and final state of the USA on this trip. I entered Texas from New Mexico on a series of back roads to arrive at Dell City, a small quiet place built around a road junction which qualified it as a two street town. I bought some fruit and a cold drink at one of the two stores for lunch then headed on to Guadalupe Mountains National Park.
My first day in Mexico turned out to be a comedy of errors. In all the best western films the Mexican bandits get drunk on tequila in the cantina, sleep late, drink some more tequila and its close to lunchtime before they are ready for any serious banditry. Therefore my cunning plan was to cross the border early and be well away from the troubled border area before any self respecting bandido was awake.
Plaza De Armas, Durango
I arrived in the city of Durango with last weeks dual celebration lights and decorations still up. They celebrated their 200th Independence Day and the 100th anniversary of the Mexican revolution on the 16th September. The party continues in Durango with nightly free performances in the main Plaza De Armas whilst I was there.
Arriving in Zacatecas during the afternoon rush hour was complicated enough but the road Garmin wanted me to take was closed off by the police because of an accident causing us to continue in the wrong direction for a couple of miles. As I closed in on the city centre again the narrow, hilly cobbled streets were mainly one way. Garmin was either unaware of this or trying to kill me as on several occasions I was prompted to ride into the oncoming traffic.
I was planning on going to Xilitla to see Edward Jamess garden and when I told Letty, the owner of my San Luis Potosi hostel it turned out she was going there for Christmas to stay with her sister who ran a hotel. I was invited to share their Christmas meal so travelled to Xilitla on Christmas Eve without realising that they were having their main meal that evening rather than on Christmas day as we do in England. I hadn't met most of the family until we sat down for the Christmas meal but we all got along with Letty translating when required.
Farwell, a well travelled friend I met in Montana told me his favourite place in Mexico was Oaxaca and as I have made my way south most people who had been really liked the place. At this time of year (January) it has an almost perfect climate with Canadians travelling to it to escape the cold and Argentineans to escape the midsummer heat.
A short distance from Oaxaca after joining highway 175 heading north the traffic eased and I found myself once again on a quiet road with great scenery of wooded mountains with dense fern undergrowth as I climbed up into the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca mountains then wound back down the other side. It was slow going because of the twists and turns, potholes and landslides that had either deposited a pile of rocks and dirt onto the road or left a gaping void where a slice of road had slid down the mountainside.
I aimed to get an early start from San Ignacio, Belize to get through the border formalities and on to Flores, Guatemala before the heat of the afternoon sun started to boil my brain inside the helmet but the person with the key to the gate securing the bike couldnt be found. After twenty minutes, just as the hotel manager was about to cut the padlock with a pair of bolt cutters the Chinese lady with the key appeared and I was on my way.
Heavy rain in Lanquin made the rough dirt road out impassable for me with a fully laden BMW F650GS. Sections of smooth bedrock with a thin covering of mud were difficult to walk on without slipping never mind riding the bike. After finding out that the forecast was predicting rain every day for a week I decided to tackle the dirt road section in the afternoon when it had dried out somewhat and stay in nearby Coban instead of riding to Antigua in one day.
I treated myself to breakfast at the Valhalla macadamia nut farm open air restaurant before setting off in the direction of Honduras. Valhalla was the third and final place I stayed in Antigua thanks to the Lent and Easter Festival filling all the available accommodation although living in a bamboo cabin amidst the rows of nut trees was worth the effort of moving. A very tranquil setting after the hustle, bustle and noise of central Antigua in festival time.
Arriving at Copan Ruinas I went searching for a phone to call a couple of contacts for camping outside of town. The first, a friend of Lorenzo, the owner of Valhalla macadamia nut farm where I had stayed near Antigua, Guatemala was out and I needed to get my accommodation sorted out quickly. The second contact was a Finca (farm) that advertised various tourist activities including camping but when I found their agent in town they said they didnt offer camping after all. Fortunately I had passed a hostel during my searching for a phone so I stayed there as second best to camping.
I thought the Honduran / Nicaraguan border at Las Manos on the Pan Americana Highway would be busy but I was through in an efficient hour, the quickest border crossing yet. The main time saver was not having to find the photocopy office and get documents copied as none were required, wonderful.
Nicaragua Invades Costa Rica the news headline screamed. The last thing I wanted to read as I was researching my next border crossing. The story however wasnt quite as dramatic as the headline suggested. The Nicaraguan army were on maneuvers close to the border and using a Google map discovered a Costa Rican flag flying inside Nicaragua, they advanced; took down the flag and replaced it with a Nicaraguan one only to find out later that the map was wrong and they had inadvertently invaded Costa Rica and stolen their flag!
Santa Maria de Dota is a small Tico (Costa Rican) village in a valley below the Talamanca Mountain Range fifty miles (80 Km) south of San Jose. I had booked a night in a bed and breakfast hotel in the cloud forest above the village and was to meet the owners in front of the church in the main plaza so that they could lead me to the B&B which they had said was difficult to find. I followed their four wheel drive out of town as we wound our way up the mountainside on rougher and rougher tracks.
Panama twists itself through 90° compared to its neighbours to the north and south so that if your travelling south through Central America you have to travel east in Panama and if your heading north then you have to travel west. Contrary to my expectations the well known shortcut between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, the Panama Canal runs north and south rather than east and west.
Taking things for granted never works in the long run. I got a three month visa for Panama at the border and asked for three months insurance for the motorbike and as the woman in the insurance office didnt say anything I assumed thats what I was given. I then presented the insurance certificate to customs to get the temporary import licence for the motorbike and assumed the bike was valid for three months.
Thirteen bikes and eighteen passengers assembled in various hostels and hotels around Panama City waiting to board the Stahlratte (German for Steel Rat), a converted sailing cargo vessel built in 1903 that was going to carry us to Colombia.
