Trujillo

I have spent the last three weeks in Trujillo trying to transcribe my blog. The desire is just not there to do this task. You can tell when you don't want to do something when you can find almost anything to distract from the task at hand. Anyway, I came to the decision that I would write less and try to focus on quality over quantity.
Walking around the streets of Trujillo is like walking around the track of MarioKart, except the battlecarts have been replaced with a whole bunch of little taxis. By an unofficial count, I would guess that close to 90% of all vehicles on the streets are taxis, colectivos, and buses. The taxi drivers are, of course, a menace. I have no doubt that they would run over their own toddler or grandmother if they got in their way. The other day I was impressed by the method that a man in a wheelchair used to cross the street. When he wanted to cross the street, he blew a whistle. My faith in the taxi drivers' bloodthirstiness was shaken when they actually braked for him. Most of the time, the taxis are empty but not in the morning when they bring people and their goods into the market to sell their wares. I even saw a taxi with a whole bunch of 2X4s strapped to the top and a cement mixer hitched to it. In Latin America, you have to hustle for your money in any way that you can think of.
The place where I am staying is close to a large number of different schools. Their students flood the area dressed in the various uniforms that indicate where they attend school. The other night, when I was sitting at an internet cafe, I witnessed an interesting urban phenomenon that I was previously unaware of. I saw about 40 kids all dressed in one uniform run past the front door while be chased by another group of equal or larger size that was wielding large rocks the size of my head. Outside, there was smashed glass everywhere. It turns out that Trujillo is filled with adolescent soccer hooligans. When I asked the lady who worked at the internet cafe how often this happens she just shrugged and said it happens "daily." All the street vendors outside kept on selling what they were selling as if nothing happened. The cops were able to break it up pretty quickly so I guess it wasn't to bad.

We Are Still Losing the Drug War

Right now, I am sitting in an internet cafe in Sullana, Peru relaxing from the desert heat and reading archived news from the New York Times. Sullana has a reputation that precedes it as a city where there are a lot of drug addicts who smoke base, the chemicals used to extract cocaine from the coca leaf. I was warned at least five times before coming here that it was a sketchy place. The streets here are overrun with mototaxis as the three-wheeled, motarized pedicabs are called.
As cab drivers are universally shady people, I made a deal with one of the drivers to take me somewhere where I could buy weed. I paid the driver a little more than the going rate for a ride to take me somewhere to buy weed and then return me to where we had left from. While buying the "grifa", which I have learned is pretty much universally used throughout Latin America as slang for weed, one of those fucking base smokers jumped in the cab to grovel and beg me for money or some of my weed. I politely said "No, I'm sorry" while I allowed the driver to play bad cop. After not listening to his repeated requests to get out of the mototaxi, the driver threatened the base smoker with a knife and he got out. I was carrying my knife but I prefer not to use it to threaten people unless I am threatened first. As I stated before, the base smoker was grovelling to me rather than try to threaten me so I didn't consider him to be very menacing, just annoying.
The Drug War is still waged internationally by the U.S. government and their international allies, but it still hasn't eliminated my ability to find marijuana in various cities throughout Latin America. I didn't get a whole lot of pot but I only spent $10 on the whole transaction including the cab ride. The fact is that I should be able to go to any store that sells cigarretes and alcohol and buy marijuana for even less than that. I shouldn't have to dodge crackheads and go to dangerous neighborhoods just to buy weed. Marijuana is unfairly compared to harder drugs such as methamphetaminse, cocaine, and heroin when placed into the same category as an illegal drug.
Corruption linked to the Drug War has been in the news recently as it always seems to be as history repeats itself ad nauseam. There is a scandal which has grown to implicate several generals in the Colombian army as well as a larger contingent of mid-ranking and lower level soldiers. It appears that these military personel have been involved in the abduction,murder, and cover-up of what could be several hundred cases in which poor, sometimes homeless men were promised jobs in the military only to be taken to areas that were officially combat zones between the government and the leftist rebels only to be killed and disguised as rebels. In the Colombian military, promotions are often largely based on successful body counts of rebels so several of the mid-level officers received promotions as a result of these war crimes. As the Colombian army is in a war with rebels who traffic cocaine, any corruption in the military is inextricably linked to the drug war.
While corruption is metastasizing throughout the Colombian military, there was news from Mexico that several people who work in the Mexican Attorney General´s office have been caught accepting bribes from drug traffickers to pass them information about raids and other drug trafficking related intelligence. This harkens back to the glory days of the Mexican government's corruption when three successive heads of the nation's chief anti-drug agency were implicated in taking bribes from drug lords. They were Javier Coello Trejo , Mario Ruiz Massieu, and General Jesus Gutierrez Rebollo. It was during this time that the transit routes for the Colombian cartels began to shift through Mexico from the the more traditional Caribbean routes.
Javier Coello Trejo is infamous for other reasons other than accepting bribes to provide information to drug lords. When he was Mexico's equivalent of Drug Czar, several men who were specially vetted and picked to be in his personal security contingent were implicated in a rape scandal. It turns out that they were using government owned police cars and machine guns to abduct, rape, and even kill Mexican women in the southern part of Mexico City. Many feminist groups charged that these crimes would have gone completely unpunished if it wasn't for the fact that several rich girls with political connections were raped by this gang of thugs. There were also allegations that at least one of these policemen was a rampant cokehead. Eventually, Mr. Coello was caught accepting bribes and was forced to resign.
His successor was Mario Ruiz Massieu. He was caught trying to launder $9 million in Texas but wasn't forced from office until he was bizarrely implicated in a cover up of his brother's death. Raul Salinas de Gortiari was eventually convicted in ordering the assassination of Jose Francisco Ruiz Massieu. Mr. Salinas was, of course, the older brother of the president of Mexico during that time, Carlos Salinas de Gortiari. Raul Salinas had amassed an illegal fortune of at least the $120million that he had unsuccessfully tried to transfer to Swiss bank accounts. Carlos Salinas's younger brother was eventually assassinated in Mexico City during the time that I was living there for unclear motives probably related to the drug trade. Mario Ruiz Massieu eventually committed suicide with an overdose of painkillers while under house arrest in New Jersey while awaiting a U.S. money laundering trial. In his suicide note he implicated then current president of Mexico Ernesto Zedillo in the corruption. The Mexican government, of course, vociferously denied these accusations.
The Ernesto Zedillo regime appointed General Jesus Gutierrez Rebollo as the new head of the governent's anti-drug division. This was a break from the past as military man was given a position which had previously been a traditionally civilian post. The military was seen at the time as being less corrupt than other sectors of the government and the move was hailed by the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency. General Barry McCaffrey, the U.S. Drug Czar of the time, praised General Gutierrez as a man of "absolute, unquestioned integrity." He had a reputation for major drug busts and arrest of major traffickers. As it turned out, he had been on the payroll of Amado Carrilo Fuentes, the nations most powerful drug lord of the time, for seven years. He shared information with Carillo and only busted his competitors. At the time, Amado Carrilo Fuentes was estimated to net $10 billion a year. The General also had a penchant for illegally disappearing those who were accused by the government of drug trafficking even if there was no case against them.
Under provisions of the Foreign Assistance Act passed by the U.S. Congress, the U.S. president has until March 1st every year to certify a government as being cooperative in the U.S. Drug War. Nations that are decertified are no longer given U.S., I.M.F., or World Bank assistance. The president also has the option of decertifying but continuing such assistance on the grounds of the wellbeing of a country being of "vital" interest to the U.S. government. Nonetheless, the U.S. continues to certify Mexico and Colombia just like it did at the height of their corruption despite endless years of repetitious subterfuge. These governments don't want to kill the goose that laid the golden egg. When cocaine brings in money from both the U.S. government and the private sector there is just too much money at stake for the Mexican or Colombian government to ever want to truly do away with drug trafficking. There is too much poverty in both of those countries to ever pull the rug out from completely under their economies.
I don't think that the likes of Barry McCaffrey and John Waters are so stupid as to be so naive to government involvement in the drug trade. I think that they have known all along and are probably complicit in the respective Mexican and Colombian schemes. I consider them to be terrorists for their connections to all of these aforementioned people. It is time to end this government sponsored terrorism by ending the drug war.

To the Land of Toilets that Flush in Both Directions

Days 256-261 I stayed in Medellin
Day 262 ta: 2624 kt:41.5 gps:N 6 degrees 32.323' W 75 degrees 05.291'
Day 263 ta: ta:1302 kt: 50.8 gps: N 6 degrees 27.308' W 75 degrees 18.470'
Day 264 ta: 2074 kt: 37.9 gps: N 6 degrees 30.145' W 74 degrees 49.243'
Day 265 ta: 2618 kt: 80.7 gps: N 6 degrees 28.619' W 74 degrees 14.093'
Day 266 ta: 1393 kt: 70.6 gps: N 6 degrees 51.636' W 73 degrees 45.993'
Day 267 ta: 2053 kt: 59.7 gps: N 7 degrees 06.284' W 73 degrees 24.533'
Day 268 ta: 4836 kt: 60.1 gps: N 7 degrees 06.561' W 73 degrees 07.058'
Days 269 and 270 I stayed in Bucaramanga

I ended up staying in Medellin a little bit longer than I expected. The weather there is perfect. This is the reason it is often called "The City of Eternal Spring". I didn't really do much other than go see some bands during a free music festival. Medellin has some talented musicians though I guess this is to be expected from such a large city.
Sometimes it seems kind of weird staying in a hostel. I go from speaking Spanish exclusively to almost exclusively speaking English. It is actually quite possible to travel through Latin America with very little Spanish. All you have to do is hop from one hostel to another.
I am beginning to think of travelers as a small community of people. It is surprising how often I see some of the same people in different cities. I even hear about news affecting travelers through word-of-mouth. Case in point: when a jeep carrying a bunch of Japanese tourists collided with a jeep carrying a bunch of Israeli tourists killing all but one, I heard about it from other travelers first.
The mountains between Medellin and Bucaramanga are not as tall as I expected. What is strange is that I prefer taller mountains because it is a whole lot cooler. I seem to get a new rash every time I enter tropical lowlands. This time it is on the back of my thighs which is more pleasant than other places I have had them.
I followed several river valleys from Medellin to Bucaramanga. The Medellin River is a large raging torrent that doesn't seem like it could ever be tamed. It goes through a concrete channel when passing through Medellin, picking up a lot of trash along the way. It may be an ugly river but I was nevertheless awed by its power. The Nus River is much prettier and cleaner than the Medellin River. At its most beautiful point comes cascading down the side of a mountain right outside of a town called Cisneros. There is another nice river gorge right outside of Bucaramanga but I don't know its name.

Day 271 ta:1560 kt:25.8 gps: N 6º55.777' W 73º00.839'

There have been several items in the news that have caught my eye. The first is that the Colombian government managed to rescue Ingrid Betancourt and a little more than a dozen other prisoners from the F.A.R.C. She was, by far, the most high profile kidnap victim that was held by them and was a major bargaining chip for the release of F.A.R.C. prisoners held by the Colombian and U.S. governments. Now the F.A.R.C. can focus on what they do best which is trafficking cocaine.
The other items in the news that I thought were interesting was the separate reports that Barack Obama wants to expand government subsidies for faith based programs, and that he now supports warrantless wiretapping and has voted to grant immunity to the telecommunications companies that acted in collusion with the Bush administration in allowing illegal wiretaps to occur. I don't know why the left of the Democratic Party likes this guy so much. He is just as bad as the Clintons.

Day 272 ta:4543 kt: 46.3 gps: N 6º41.182' W 73º02.033'

In my travels I go through many places that seem ordinary, for lack of a better word. For example, the cattle ranches throughout Latin America are often very much the same.They are sometimes on flat land and sometimes on rolling hills. Regardless, they are always in a place where all or most of the trees have been cut down. Cattle ranches dominate the areas which I have traveled through on most of this trip. Needless to say, I have grown bored of riding by so many cattle ranches, not to mention that this makes finding a decent campsite harder to do.
The Chicamocha Canyon is not an ordinary place, not by any means. The peaks of the mountains rise imposingly high above the valley floor. Large parts of the mountains remain untouched because their slopes are too steep for farming, ranching, or building just about anything. The road that travels through this area winds down into and then back out of the valley. It is stunningly beautiful here and, hence, well worth the seemingly never-ending ascents.
It is these ascents coupled with the daily rain showers that begin around 3:00 p.m. that make me question my undying faith in the viability of commuting by bicycle in mountainous areas. The fact is, though, that the era of cheap petroleum is coming to an end and the people that live in these areas are going to have to come up with something to replace internal combustion transportation. Doing this without contributing to global warming will be a challenge as well. If we use electric cars we will be consuming more electricity and hence putting more carbon dioxide into the atmosphere as much of that electricity will come from natural gas or coal burning power plants. The same is true for hydrogen fuel cell technology because of the fact that hydrogen may be universally abundant but it is almost always chemically bonded to another element and requires energy, hence electricity, to separate the hydrogen from it chemical bonds and make a useable fuel.
Generating the electricity we consume now is difficult, if not impossible, using non-atmosphere-altering, renewable energy sources. Imagine how difficult it will be doing this if all of earth's petroleum dependent planes, cars, trucks, trains, boats, war machines, construction machinery, and agricultural machinery were plugged in to the grid. Nuclear energy is not a viable option. If it were the nuclear powers of the world would have no problem with Iran developing their nuclear energy program.
It all comes back to reducing our energy consumption and I think more widespread use of the bicycle can help us do that. Sooner or later, people are going to have to give up their cars as it will be prohibitively expensive not to mention damaging to the environment for them to continue using them. If $4.00 a gallon gasoline is enough to make Americans give up their trucks and S.U.V.s just wait to see what will happen by 2050 when the earth's population is supposed to reach 9 billion people and gas will cost who knows what. At least some of those 3 billion extra people will probably want to drive effectively negating the gas savings from switching from an S.U.V. to a car. I keep pedalling away, astonished by the insanity of it all. If people ever wonder why I am crazy enough to ride my bike as far as I have, this is why. I don't ever want to own a car. I don't want to be part of the problem but rather part of the solution. I don't want to be part of a dying tribe but rather a part of a flourishing tribe. With all of these future energy challenges we face there is a reason to be optimistic. All the scrap metal coming onto the market from all of the soon-to-be obsolete tanks should actually bring down the cost of producing a bicycle. I wonder how many bicycle frames you can make using the metal from one tank.
In the U.S. a woman recently died while waiting for medical assistence in a hospital waiting room. This contrasts with a woman in Ibague, Colombia who gave birth on the street because she couldn't afford to do so in a hospital. Having no access to health care is one of the dangers that much of the world's poor suffer from. We should all be so horrified of these events happening that we work to increase the availability of health care everywhere. I can't believe that their are people who actually believe that the for-profit health system actually functions.

Day 273 ta:1567 kt:46.2 gps: N 6 degrees 28.136' W 73 degrees 15.732'
Day 274 and 275 I stayed in Socorro

I ended up staying in Socorro longer than I originally planned because my right hip stiffened up to the point where I was walking with a slight limp. Waking up with gastrointestinal issues the day after a full day of rest caused me to rest one more day. I left Socorro this morning with the same sore hip. I plan to take it easy today and try to stretch out my hip by riding my bicycle. All in all, this is not a serious problem but I am being extra cautious since I should be doing some grueling mountain climbing in the next four days.
When I was in Socorro, I found myself watching the National Geographic Channel on television. Don't get me wrong, the National Geographic has long been a respected institution but there are some shows on that channel that make me want to spit. I was especially disgusted by the show about Ewan Mcgregor and his friend who are travelling through Africa by motorbike. I have respect for people that go on motorcycle tours but I don't have this same respect for Ewan McGregor. He is taking not one but two Land Rovers along for support. He went through a simulated hostage experience and has a personal trainer but he didn't seem to want learn any basic first aid or take any language training. Moreover, his handlers did all the paperwork in advance. Even if you do all of the paperwork in advance, you will still be taken for a loop at every border crossing. I also think that he exaggerates the dangers of his undertaking. I am currently travelling through a part of the world that has a bad reputation for violence but it has been mostly tranquil thus far. Yes, there are soldiers and police everywhere but Coca-Cola deliverymen don't have shotgun-wielding security guards like they do in Guatemala or Honduras. I personally consider the Mara Salvatrucha to be a bigger threat than the F.A.R.C. My favorite quote of Ewan McGregor is, " I feel like I am on a ride with my mates." You are on a ride with your mates, dipshit! I could cycle around the world five times with the amount of money that he is probably spending on his three month trip.

Day 276 ta:3517 kt:44.9 gps: N 6 degrees 08.802' W 73 degrees 20.883'
Day 277 ta: 3053 kt:49 gps: N 5 degrees 55.752' W 73 degrees 37.076'
Day 278 I stayed in Barbosa
Day 279 ta: 3837 kt:49.9 gps: N 5 degrees 37.063' W 73 degrees 48.939'

It took a while for my hip to finally loosen up. This is a recurring problem that I have had to deal with in the past but this is the first time that I have had to deal with this on the road. When my hip stiffens up it never seems to be caused by any external injury. It usually happens when I sleep in a bad position. Anyway, after taking it easy for the last couple of days, my hip has finally completely loosened up. The bicycle is such a wonderful invention. It is like a leg stretching machine.
Spending time in the small mountain towns in Colombia is a very eye-opening experience. It seems like the American media is always pushing the idea that the rest of the world is so poor and dangerous. The truth of the matter is apparent if you spend any time at all in small Colombian towns. Children run around unattended. Everyone seems to be well fed and well clothed. Whole towns walk around the city centers and socialize with their neighbors. Everyone seems to know everyone else. I feel safer in these places than I feel in many places in the United States. Sometimes, I can't help but think the whole idea of American exceptionalism is a load of shit.
At 8,500 feet it is surprisingly chilly. It is always surprising to have to wear a jacket when you are in the tropics. I finally topped out today on my way to Bogotà. I am in the town of Chiquinquira and I will head to Bogotà soon.

Day 280 ta:1229 kt:35.2 gps: N 5º25.986' W 73º45.276'

I have been slacking off way too much. I have not even come close to my maximum capabilities for at least two weeks. Because of my laziness I am going to have to extend my visa in Bogotà. Tomorrow, I will make myself ride to Bogotà no matter how many hills are in the way.

Day 281 ta:3328 kt:113 gps: N 4º35.990' W 74º04.116'
Day 282-286 I stayed in Bogotà
Day 287 ta:2043 kt:67.8 gps: N 4º21.704' W 74º22.819'
Day 288 ta:1947 kt:91 gps:N 4º13.825' W 74º50.480'

Coming into Bogotà from the north, I began to wonder when I was going to reach the city. I kept on seeing signs that indicated that Bogotà was less than 10 kilometers away but it still seemed pretty rural. Then as I topped out over a hill I saw it: a damned big city. I entered the city around 186th street and the place where I wanted to stay was at 16th street so I still had some riding to do. About 30 blocks away from the hostel where I wanted to stay, my front shifter broke. This is not as bad as breaking my rear shifter. I was still able to ride up hills and I made it to the hostel, albeit more slowly.
By the time I finish this trip, I will probably have replaced every single part on my bicycle at least once. I was expecting to have to pay $100 for a new pair of shifters but this ended up costing $400 after labor was included. My new shifters are much nicer than my old ones. For all you gearheads out there, I upgraded from Shimano Tiagra to Shimano Ultegra. The shifting on my bike is much smoother now. I was also lucky enough to find new bike tires after going to about a dozen bike stores. My tires are already going bald again so this is a relief.
Bogotà is a massive city filled with street performers, graffiti, big buildings, and lots of traffic. The graffiti and street performers are both high quality. It is amazing how well the people juggling for change can juggle. Most of the graffiti is really colorful and psychaedelic. Even though it is illegal, many people brazenly smoke weed in the streets. There are a whole bunch of rastas that sell stuff in one of the central plazas. I almost bought a Marcus Garvey hat but then I thought it would look funny to see a white boy wearing a black power hat.
When I finally left the city after six days of chilling out, I still had to ride over 20 kilometers just to leave the metropolitan area. After topping out at just over 9,000 feet, I descended over 8,000 the next two days. Some of the scenery along the highway outside of the town of Melgar, Colombia was so spectacular that I had to stop just to take it in. It is no longer cold but uncomfortably hot. The mosquitoes are back in force. I can't wait to ride into the mountains again.

Day 289 ta:3022 kt:64.2 gps: N 4 degrees 26.290' W 75 degrees 14.159'
Day 290 ta:3994 kt:39.6 gps: N 4 degrees 26.095' W 75 degrees 27.954'
Day 291 ta:3905 kt:50.3 gps: N 4 degrees 29.181' W 75 degrees 41.967'

I just spent the last two and half days climbing uphill. Austin doesn't have hills that come even close to the hills that I have to climb in Colombia. The longest I have to spend climbing any hill in Austin is no more than 30 minutes. The first 4,000 feet of climbing in the tropics is always the hardest to climb. Not only are you ascending but you have to do so in tropical heat. On the first day of climbing, I had hit my wall by the time I reached the city of Ibague, Colombia. I ended up staying in Ibague for the night because I wanted to recuperate my strength for the strenuous climbing that I knew lay ahead.
As usual when I stay at a hotel, I didn't leave Ibague until midday and I didn't get as much riding in as I wanted to. I ended up not finding a good campsite until after dark. After worrying my poor little head off, I lucked into finding an abandoned house on the side of the road. I felt very fortunate because almost all of the land on the side of the road is sloped. All the of the flat land is already monopolized.
I finally made it to the top today, topping out at about 10,800 feet. It was cold and windy at the top. The wind was so strong that it redirected me several times when I was going downhill. Believe me, I do not like being redirected by wind when I am moving at 60 kilometers per hour. It is always very scary. The descent was long and I must have passed at least 30 semis on the way down the hill.
When I reached the town of Calarca, Colombia at the bottom of the hill, I was given a total rock star treatment. A news crew happened upon me and interviewed me and then I must have been surrounded by 20 people, all of them asking questions, at a restuarant that I ate at. I don't mind being a rock star for a day or two but I sure do love my anonymity and privacy.

Day 292 ta:1908 kt:67.4 gps: N 4 degrees 12.286' W 76 degrees 09.016'
Day 293 ta:2081 kt:117 gps: N 3 degrees 26.794' W 75 degrees 32.416'
Day 294 ta: 948 kt:54.7 gps: N 3 degrees 01.266' W 76 degrees 29.959'

I am in sugarcane country. There are warning signs for el tren cañelero or sugarcane train. At first, when I saw these signs I was confused because I didn't see any tracks but then I saw a semi with four trailers full of sugarcane and I figured out what it was. Sugarcane is grown everywhere here as far as the eye can see. I have really come to enjoy a drink here called guarapo which is made of pressed sugar cane juice and squeezed lime juice and cooled with ice. For a little more than 50 cents, it is a very tasty, cheap, and refreshing beverage. While eating my dinner today, the people at the place that had the food gave me some sugarcane to chew on. Sugarcane is so ubiquitous that everyone seems to just have some lying around.
The day before yesterday was one of those days where mechanical issues slowed me down. My real gears were slipping so much that I saw as necessary to stop and try to fix this issue. After fiddling around with the limiting screws on my derailers for at least an hour, I was able to solve the problem.
When I came into Calì, Colombia, I had ridden 110 kilomers by 2:00 p.m. I was hungry because I hadn't eaten in the last 80 kilometers. My breakfast was delicious and filling enough that I was able to ride a long distance without eating again. I had lechona for the first time. Lechona is a whole pig that is stuffed with rice and more pork and then baked. Mmmmm!
My lunch was the typical fair which includes soup, meat, rice, beans, fried bananas, a salad, and a drink which is usually limeade but can often be something more exotic such as maracuya juice. The main thing that I like about these meals is that they are large and pack in a lot of calories and liquids for me to make it through these long, hot days.
After eating lunch, I was headed to an internet cafe to look for a place to stay for the night when I ran into a couple of teenagers who were smoking weed. They got me high and helped me find more weed.
The place I stayed in Calì is in a nice neighborhood that has a park on a hill overlooking the city. The park is filled with people on Friday nights. There are aspiring musicians playing music for their friends on the hillside, little children sliding down a sidewalk in milkcrates, comedians, and lots of merchants selling their wares.
When I was smoking out on the hillside in the morning, some woman found two boxes filled with kittens. They were all healthy and cute as hell. I helped the woman carry the boxes to a dog groomer where they were going to stay for a while.
I didn't leave Calì until midday but I wanted to stay longer so I could explore the zoo and find some cool graffiti. Alas, I do not have that much time remaining on my visa and I don't want to pay 30 dollars for another two months when I would only be in Colombia a few days longer. I am trying to get past the border with Ecuador at the beginning of August which isn't too far away.
Today clouds started rolling in after dinner but I was able to find a good place to pitch my tent with enough time to watch the storm before it hit. A thunderstorm in the mountains is often a beautiful thing if you aren't stuck in the middle of it.

Day 295 ta:5831 kt:82.5 gps: N 2 degrees 26.780' W 76 degrees 36.519'

Riding along the highway, I see many different kinds of buses. By far the king of style among all the buses is the Colombian chiva. They are dripping in style, so much so that they put even the Guatemalan chicken buses to shame. Made using American buses no younger than 20 years old, the roof is reinforced, the walls and seats are removed and replaced with bench seating with no doors, there is an extra-heavy duty reinforced bumper, and the whole body of the bus is painted in intricate patterns. As the buses pass by, there are often people or merchandise hanging off the bumper. I once even saw one pass by with a dog curled up on the bumper. There is a large bamboo beam that goes across the roof so a tarp can be hung over the roof which carries all the luggage that ranges from sacks of potatoes to motorcycles and everything in between. Sometimes they are rocking some bad ass cumbias when I pass them. Sadly, they are mostly a relic of the past and they have been largely replaced by more conventional buses.

Day 296 ta:3263 kt:57 gps: N 2 degrees 12.146' W 76 degrees 48.920'
Day 297 ta:2150 kt:54.8 gps: N 1 degree 56.684' W 77 degrees 08.195'
Day 298 ta:2856 kt:49 gps: N 1 degree 40.570' W 77 degrees 19.759'
Day 299 ta:5576 kt:51 gps:N 1 degree 26.271' W 77 degrees 16.763'
Day 300 ta:4534 kt:38.3 gps: N 1 degree 11.490' W 77 degrees 16.766'
Day 301 ta:6593 kt:78.4 gps: N 0 degrees 49.819' W 77 degrees 37.960'
Day 302 ta:891 kt:12.6 gps: N 0 degrees 48.117' W 77 degrees 43.320'

The part of Colombia taht is close to the border with Ecuador is spectacularly beautiful. The mountains are massive and they are cut through by many deep river gorges. This does, unfortunately mean that there is a lot of hill climbing but I can deal with that. Considering that I am no more than 100 kilometers from the equator, it is surprisingly cold.
I met yet another person who is riding his bicycle to Southern Argentina. His name is Tom Snyder a.k.a. the bicycle comedian. I personally think that riding a bicycle is more fun than funny but he has made a living as a comedian for the last couple of decades and I respect that. He usually rides from gig to gig around the world on his bicycle. In his act, he rides up onstage. He has amassed an impressive number of miles on his many journeys. It was fun riding with him. We split up at the border because I knew that having overstayed my visa that I was going to be delayed at the border and I didn't want to get him in trouble.
I tried to make it to the border on time but the mountains slowed me down. When I arrived in Ipiales, Cololbia on the border with Ecuador, I thought that I had already overstayed my visa so I just got a hotel room and decided to deal with it the next day. When I arrived at the border crossing, I found out that I had overstayed my visa by exactly one day and that this was going to cost me $100. Doh!!! To officially deal with this problem, one has to pay a fine at a bank and receive a stamp in the passport. However, since it was a Sunday and all the banks were closed, I took the unofficial route and bribed the border officials to erase all the records of my being in Colombia so I could receive my exit stamp before I entered Ecuador. I am not happy about dropping a C-note to deal with this but I figure my idiotic government will find some way to devalue my savings by at least that amount in a couple of weeks.

Day 303 ta:3341 kt:59.5 gps: N 0º30.680' W 77º55.320'

I had a miserable, rainy start for my day today. At 9,000+ feet the rain is always cold. After sitting in my tent for a while, I finally decided that the rain wasn't going to let up any time soon so I put on my rain gear, packed up my gear and, rolled up my wet tent. There is a phenomenon that I am finding thoroughly annoying: all of the zippers on my rain gear have become so calcified that none of them work. I can usually get the zippers to work after some effort, but, this morning, I ripped the handle off of one of my zippers while trying to close my pocket. To add to the pleasure of the day, I pulled a muscle in my left thigh after I slipped under my bike before I had even started riding for the day. It was not a bad pull, though, and the sun came out around midday so I was able to enjoy my ride.
One of the things that I love about Latin America is that you can blatantly tresspass on someone's property and they are cool with it. After I pitched my tent tonight, a man with a rifle walked up. I was startled because I thought that I was well hidden. I showed him my hands and told him that I was unarmed. I then told him that I saw clouds coming in from behind and I had to quickly choose a place to erect my tent for the night. He told me not to worry and to sleep well. This was definitely nice because I was planning to pack up my stuff and leave before sunrise. This way, if it is raining in the morning, I can take my time.

Day 304 ta:3577 kt:65.2 gps: N 0º21.607' W 78º07.282'
Day 305 ta:2522 kt:37.5 gps: N 0º10.257' W 78º12.414'

Though I love long fast descents, the change in temperature can be annoying. When I woke up two days ago it was cold and I didn't want to get out of my sleeping bag. After zooming down a mountain, I was in a desert valley and I had to strip off all of my winter gear and my full length tights. I then ascended back into the mountains and had to stop again because it was getting cold. I stopped in the city of Ibarra, Ecuador because I had an upset stomach and I didn't feel like dealing with digestive issues while camping.
I am camped at 9,000 feet again right now and it is cold again. I should make it to Quito tomorrow and I am hoping that I don't have to deal with any major elevation changes.
I don't know when they decided it was their official hat but the indigenous Ecuadorans like to wear a hat that looks like a cross between a fedora and a stove-pipe hat. After passing through some mostly black areas in sugar cane growing regions I am just to the north of Quito where everyone seems to have a more indigenous appearance.
Ecuador is dirt cheap. If you spend more than $2 on a meal, you should expect a feast. The hotel I stayed at in Ibarra was a "luxury hotel" that cost $7 a night. It was a pretty nice place that would have easily cost at least $60 a night if it were in the U.S. If an Ecuadoran was working in the U.S. for $6 an hour, there first two hours would probably pay for all the rent and daily expenditures and the rest would be icing on the cake.

Day 307 ta:6075 kt:89.8 gps: S 0º12.187´W 78º 29.233'

I finally crossed the equator on the way to Quito. There are no offical markers on the highway which was surprising. I spent yet another day going through large temperature changes as I would go from higher elevation to lower elevation and back again. My friend Luis was, ironically, in the city I had left from in the morning when I called him from Quito so I had to get a hotel for the night.
I am staying at Luis's house. I met him when I was going to the University of Texas and he was also attending school there. He is from Guayaquil, Ecuador originally but moved to Quito about three years ago. He is currently opening up the first headshop in all of Quito. He has told me that he has the only store in the country that sells bongs. Right now at his place, there are hundreds of bongs and pipes spread all over his tables.
I am happy to report that one can find pretty good weed in Ecuador. It doesn't smell or taste as nice as what I am used to smoking in Austin but it has no seeds and packs a punch. We have been smoking out of a bong which he smuggled into Ecuador from the U.S. by airplane. He left it at his mother's house for the longest time and told her that it was a flower vase. He told me that he thinks about 5% of Quito gets high so he may be on to something by opening up his headshop. I have never had so much hope for capitalism to succeed.
We made some tea out of San Pedro cactus and went wild. San Pedro cactus has trace amounts of mescaline, which is the psychoactive substance in peyote, in the skin. San Pedro grows all over the place in Ecuador and many people have it their doorways because it is the "guardian of the doorway to heavan." Preparation requires a lot of time and a lot of patience. I spent several hours peeling the outer layer of skin of the cactus cylinders and despining them before we boiled the skin several times to make a very concentrated tea. The trip was strong compared to the peyote I ate in Mexico which surprised me because the mescaline is more concentrated in peyote. We are talking about going camping with a bunch of this tea. Good fun.

A Plague of Mosquitos, Trigger-happy Cops, and Majestic Mountains

Day 242 ta:537 kt:33.5 gps: N 10 degrees 38.400' W 75 degrees 24.352'
Day 243 ta:2137 kt:94.1 gps: N 10 degrees 56.539' W 74 degrees 49.980'
Day 244 ta: 984 kt:78 gps: N 10 degrees 21.390' W 74 degrees 52.263'

As I expected, I didn't leave Cartagena until late in the afternoon. I headed to Barranquilla with a very important mission. I was to take a picture of the giant Shakira statue for my mother. At about an hour before sunset on my first day back on the road, I stopped at a town called Arroyo de Canoas. The locals there were friendly; they offered me a place to stay for the night. I gratefully accepted because I was being swarmed by bugs at the time and wanted to get away from them. You could bathe in mosquito repellant and they would still viciously swarm around you.
I stayed in the room of Jonaton, the family's 17-year-old son. He is a big fan of telenovelas so I watched a few with him. Most telenovelas are made in Mexico but Colombia has its own homegrown telenovela called El Cartel. I am glad that someone figured out that the drama that goes on in a drug cartel would make a good soap opera.
I was off to Barranquilla the next day ready to fulfill my mission. I was making good time until my rear tire deflated. As I suspected, the flat was caused by my faulty tire. I learned that the trick of sewing your tires back together only works with cheap tires because they have more rubber. The stitchings held but the tire ripped even more causing the flat. Oh well, I still have one back-up tire.
Only an hour and a half remained until sunset by the time that I made it Barranquilla. I had gained some intelligence as to the whereabouts of the statue beforehand. It was, I was told, on the outskirts of the city at the Metropolitan Stadium. It was getting dark and I was hungry when I decided it was best to find some food and a place to stay. The mission could wait for the next day.
The place I where I was camped at was an abandoned house close to a highway intersection. It was far enough from the road so that I didn't have to worry about being bothered. Abandoned houses are great places to camp in the countryside but not so great in the city because they become de facto public toilets. There were no shitstains on my tent when I woke up and I was happy for this minor miracle.
Fortunately for me, the statue of Shakira was on the way to the highway that heads to Medellin. It was not as impressive as I had hoped. I took a few pictures and took off.
It is hot, humid, and flat in this part of the country. There are ranches as far as the eyes can see. Insects plague me everywhere I go. I can't wait to be in the mountains but they don't start for another 300 kilometers or so. I would happily give up the flat terrain to be rid of the insects.

Day 245 ta:2646 kt:93.1 gps:N 9 degrees 39.812' W 75 degrees 07.967'

Last night, I was unpleasantly awoken by a cop and four soldiers when they shined the lights of their patrol truck on my partially obscured tent. I quickly put on my sweatpants and said, "Buenas noches.", to indicate my friendly nature but to no avail. The cop imperiously barked, "Venga aqui con las manos arriba." I apparently didn't come out of the bushes fast enough for the cop then demanded, "Venga ahora!", several times. Since I didn't want to get shot, I quickly explained that I was unarmed, that I was barefoot and had to put on shoes, and that I had to unzip my tent which was hard to do in the dark. I held my hands high when I came out of the bushes, trying my best not to get shot. All four soldiers had their machine guns trained on me. They let down their guard a little bit when they realized that they had their guns pointed at a half-naked, flip-flop wearing, gringo. The cop was still annoying, though. He interrogated me for a few minutes as if he was trying to catch me in a lie. He told me that my name didn't sound American even though he was holding my passport. I told him that I was a fifth generation American with a funny name. He asked me when and where I arrived and told me that my passport had a different date stamped on it. I told him he probably was looking at my Panama exit stamp. (I checked later and I was right. He was, indeed, looking at my exit stamp.) After I passed his interrogation, he directed me to a hotel and told me my campsite wasn't safe. I wanted to tell him that I felt safe until they pointed their fucking machine guns at me. Thanks Big Brother.
I went to the hotel and put my sleeping pad on the dining room floor as instructed by the hotel owner. He didn't charge me for this impromptu arrangement. I didn't want to unpack everything after I had been forced to repack it in the dark. The mosquitoes devoured me but they started doing this during my ordeal with the law. I managed to get some sleep but only after the hotel owner turned on the fan for me.
It is a good thing that I am pretty proficient with my Spanish or this could have been an international incident. I figured that I would write down a few useful phrases for someone else who finds themselves in the same situation. No tengo armas means I do not have any weapons. No disparen means don't shoot. Venga aqui con las manos arriba means come here with your hands up. Understanding and being able to speak these phrases might save your life.
Sometimes the governments of our world make us choose from a false dilemna between liberty and security. They do their best to spin everything seem like such a dangerous place. An adroit politician can make fascism sound like chocolate cake. Yall like chocolate cake don't yall? What would we ever do without Big Brother their to protect us? I am not afraid of this world. I would choose liberty every time. I am old enough to make responsible decisions about my security and I am willing to reap the consequences if I am wrong. One of the great problems with out world is that there are too many cowards who would choose security over their freedom. These are people who vote for neo-fascists.
The flat land is starting to turn into rolling hills today. Soon enough, I will be in the mountains. I can't wait.

Day 246 ta:2491 kt:74.8 gps:N 90 degrees 13.722' W 75 degrees 24.863'

My day was more of the same today. It is still hot and there are still lots of rolling hills. There do not seem to be any good roadside camping spots here in Colombia or, at least, this part. I am especially paranoid after my rude awakening two nights ago. My campsite tonight is in a graveyard. This is, surprisingly, a first for me.
There are two political issues that can whip me into a loquacious fury. One is the Drug War and the other is the issue of immigration. As far as I am concerned, the only Americans that have any right to complain about immigrants are full-blooded Native Americans and they don't exist anymore because they have all been killed off or bred with Europeans.
The federal government and some state governments have recently started taking more aggressive actions against immigrants. They have been raiding workplaces and arresting immigrants and charging them with felony identity theft because they are using real Social Security numbers.
I read comments from many Americans that say something along the lines of, "They get what they deserve because they are all breaking the law." I disagree with that statement because the laws were passed with racist intent to begin with. We did not have any immigration laws minus the Chinese Exclusion Act until after World War I. Being heavily influenced by the ideas of eugenics that were in vogue at the time, Congress passed the Johnson-Reed Act of 1924. A better name for this act would have been the No More Mics, Spics, Dagos, Kikes, Niggers, or Gooks Act because it effectively limited legal immigrants to Western Europeans. It created a quota of no more than 2% of any nationality that currently resided in the United States. Since Southern and Eastern Europeans only started to come to the United States at the turn of the century, the numbers that were allowed to legally immigrate were severely restricted. Africans, Asians, and Latin Americans were not even listed in the quotas so it was assumed that the government didn't want any of them. The U.S. government so enthusiastically enforced this new law that it turned away entire boatloads of Jews during World War II, knowing very well that they would surely be killed off by the Nazis. In 1952 and again in 1965, the U.S. Congress amended the original act so that it broke down the quota between hemispheres instead of by country. It also allowed for war refugees to immigrate to the United States. I like to call these ammendments the No More Poor Uneducated Mics, Spics, Dagos, Kikes, Niggers, or Gooks Acts. They provided no quota for skilled and educated immigrants but still severely restricted immigrations from the huddled masses. They should have torn down the Statue of Liberty when they passed these laws. Maybe they should change, "Give us your poor, tired, huddled masses...." to "Fuck all you Mexicans" because that would be more of a reflection of the current sentiment. Notice no one wants to build a wall on the Canadian border.
I wonder what would happen if the U.S. government sent all of the "illegal" Mexicans back home. Mexico already has significant unemployment and underemployment and sending back 10% of the population would only exacerbate this issue. This is a recipe for revolution. They could then all immigrate to the United States as war refugees. Maybe they could all get jobs as drug mules and assassins working for the cartels and thus avoid unemployment.

Day 247 ta: 2344 kt:84.8 gps: N 8 degrees 34.639' W 75 degrees 29.072'

It rained very hard in the graveyard last night. I discovered that the rainfly for my tent is practically useless if the wind is blowing hard. The center of the storm passed right over me. I could tell because the thunder and lightning were simultaneous. There was nothing I could do inside my drizzling tent but cover my body with my rain jacket and cover my sleeping bag with my body to keep it dry. I managed to get some sleep dreaming of cops with machine guns.
In Colombia, the truck drivers drive older rigs than I have seen in Central America. I have seen some that look like they are at least fifty-years-old. Many of them were hauling hefty payloads, too.
The people in the towns are crazy for their small motorcycles which are barely powerful enough to keep up with the cars on the highway. Today, I saw two men carrying a hog-tied pig on their motorcycle. In the larger towns there are so many motorcycles that it reminds me of pictures that I have seen of Bangkok.
I popped a spoke today. The first thing I will do tomorrow is fix it. I hope that this doesn't become a chronic problem.

Day 248 ta:1554 kt: 61.8 gps: N 8 degrees 08.174' W 75 degrees 24.723'

As is usually the case whenever I have to fix on my bike, the spoke repair took longer than I anticipated. I had to remove the tire, remove the rim tape, put in a new spoke, true the wheel, put on new rim tape, put the tire and innertube back on, and pump up the tire. After I finished pumping up the tire, the prestivalve shot off to God knows where and I had to repeat the last two steps. I noticed that the bike shop in Panama City gave me a 36 spoke hub for my 32 spoke rim. This concerns me a little bit because there are gaps in the rotational symmetry of my wheel. I am worried that this will lead to uneven spoke tension and, hence, more broken spokes. I will probably try to swap out hubs in one of the big cities.
Between the late start and the long internet/lunch break I didn't get very far. I am hoping to make it to a point where I can finally see the Andes tomorrow.

Day 249 ta: 2483 kt:97.1 gps: N 7 degrees 33.088' W 75 degrees 22.841'

I can finally see the northernmost part of the Andes though they area still about 50 or 60 kilometers away. Hopefully, I will reach the base of the mountains by midday tomorrow and make it up to at least 4,000 feet where it will be cool at night and devoid of mosquitoes. I have grown tired of the heat, the plague of flies, and the lack of good campsites. I probably won't pass the tree line until I am somewhere in Peru.
There was another unexpected road hazard today. A dump truck rode under some electricity wires with its back still propped up and almost took down the wires with the poles. It is a good thing that I was paying attention. I quickly rode to the other side of the highway to avoid any live wires or downed poles.
I found another bridge to camp under tonight. This is good because it looks like it is going to rain again tonight as it has been prone to do recently.There are literally hundreds of wasp nests above me on the roof of the bridge. This is good because I like wasps and I am not allergic. Maybe they will eat all of the mosquitoes.
The river I am camped next to is one of the first clean rivers I have seen in a while so I took a bath. This is nice because I haven't bathed since Cartagena. When I get to Medellin in probably three days, I am going to shower to my heart's content.

Day 250 ta:4533 kt:65.1 gps:N 7 degrees 07.067' W 75 degrees 28.045'
Day 251 ta: 6553 kt: 75.2 gps: N 6 degrees 38.860' W 75 degrees 27.610'
Day 252 ta: 2641 kt: 81.1 gps: N 6 degrees 12.446' W 75 degrees 34.529'
Day 253-255 I stayed in Medellin

I am now in the Andes. The road that I followed into Medellin is quite lovely. It starts out by going along a ridge. Huge green gorges open up to each side. There are lots of waterfalls right by the side of the road. It is already significantly cooler, too.
The locals have a novel way of hitchhiking on the long uphill parts of the road. I see rigs passing by with people hanging off the back like they are spiderman. There are, of course, people on bicycles hanging on to the corner of the rigs as well. I don't do this because I think it is cheating.
When I was taking a little break from a long climb, my friend Gwen from Belgium rode up the hill. We rode together for the next two days. Having a riding partner actually makes me move faster because I feel guilty if I take too many breaks. We made some good time on those long ascents.
Just so no one thinks I hate soldiers, I actually camped with a bunch of soldiers at a checkpoint on the road. It was getting close to sunset and I didn't see any very good prospective campsites so I straight up asked them for permission to camp with them. This helps avoid any misunderstandings that lead to getting machine guns pointed at me. In the morning Gwen and I took some great photos with them. They even brought out their fully loaded grenade launcher for the photo shoot and let me hold it.
After staying in the town of Santa Rosa de los Osos, Gwen and I parted ways because I wanted to sleep in and he didn't. Santa Rosa is a nice place and I am surprised there are not more tourists there. It has a special dish called an arepa de queso that I really liked. It is a pan grilled hunk of cheese covered in a sweet milk sauce. In the morning, before I left, I wondered around the central plaza and watched some people trying to catch a stubborn cow. It was pretty hilarious watching the cow run around, block traffic, and overpower the two people trying to rope it.
I finally left Santa Rosa around midday but I made it to Medellin because there is a very large descent to the city on the way from Santa Rosa. I must have passed at least 20 semis on the way down. The metropolitan area of Medellin is pretty large. It seems like there are probably about 5 million people living in the general area. I am now resting and relaxing. It is nice to enjoy a little down time every once and a while.
I read the other day that the state of Florida did a study that concluded that prescription drugs were responsible for at least three times as many deaths in the state as all illegal drugs combined. Alcohol and cigarettes also kill more people than all the illegal drugs. Guess how many deaths were attributed to marijuana. Zero. Our nation's drug policy is a fucking joke.

Time to Start Pedaling Again

Day 232 I stayed in Panama City one more day
Day 233 ta: 1309 kt:38.7 gps: N 9 degrees 13.286' W 79 degrees 37.579'

I finally broke away from the clutches of Panama City today. If I wanted to wait around for the rain to stop I would probably have to wait around for several months so I decided it was time to go, rain or sun. It is raining right now.
Panama City is a very cosmopolitan city. There are also a lot of very wealthy people here. I saw lots of people driving Maseratis and Porches. On the other side of town, people live in buildings that are crumbling around them. There don't seem to be any bonafide shanty towns, though. If you come to Panama City, you can hobnob with millionaires in the banking district or hang out with rasta dudes in the ghetto.
The place I stayed at in Panama City is nice. It is called Zuly's Hostel. Zuly is an African-Panamanian goddess who isn't but a year older than me. The beds were comfortable, the rooms were quiet, and we had free internet and cable. My only complaint is that she cracks down on pot smoking but that is mainly to protect herself.
My campsite is at a government building. It is an agricultural inspection post to be precise. I didn't ask anyone permission to be there, I just set up my tent. A worker found me a little later but he said it was okay. He even offered for me to set up my tent under a roof but I was already unpacked so I politely declined. If I were in the U.S., they would have called the cops and I would have spent a night in jail.

Day 234 ta:1613 kt:42.9 gps: N 9 degrees 36.043' W 79 degrees 35.283'
Day 235-239 I was in the Caribbean sea on a boat to Cartagena
Day 240-242 I stayed in Cartagena

There must be something about the humidity in Central America that causes excessive rubber rot because I had to sew my new/used rear tire back together the day before I left Panama. I miraculously found two more new/used tires at a bike shop in Cartagena. This miracle, which now seems to be on the Jesus-walking-on-water variety, has probably given me at least another several thousand kilometers before I have to worry about my tires again. I should be able to make it through Colombia, at the least, without having to buy more tires.
The day before I left Panama, I was sitting at a lunch stop when two other cyclists from Colorado rode up in a truck taxi. They had to hurry to the town of Puerto Lindo, Panama because their boat was leaving the next day. Being faced with the opportunity to leave Panama the next day rather than sit around for a week or more waiting for a boat, I put my bike in the back and rode with them to Puerto Lindo.
The names of the two riders are Ralph and Pat. They are a married couple from Colorado who is taking two years to ride from Prudhoe Bay, Alaska to the southern tip of Argentina. Being a gearhead, I had a bicycle-induced orgasm when I saw their bikes. They have two titanium soft-tail bicycles with front suspension and mechanical disk brakes. My bike is nice enough but I was having some very unfaithful thoughts when I saw theirs. They have have ridden off-road some as their bikes should be able to devour dirt roads.
I have heard a lot of horror stories about drunk captains and unseaworthy boats so I wanted to go to port before I agreed to get on a boat. That being said, the boat ride to Cartagena was at times a little unpleasant but was mostly a hoot. The unpleasantness was entirely due to my day-long bout of seasickness and not the captain or the boat. I was a little disapointed that we were motor-sailing but the wind wasn't strong enough for us to keep our schedule. There is only so much food and fresh water that you can carry on a boat.
Captain Mark was a gregarious guy with a with a lovely Colombian wife young enough to be his daughter. He spends most of his time on his boat in the San Blas Islands, a Caribbean paradise south of the hurricane danger zone. He makes money by delivering goods to islanders and other boaters anchored at the San Blas Islands and taking backpackers from Panama to Cartagena and vice versa. It seems to me that he lives a pretty idealic life though I am not ready to give up tierra firma and follow in his footsteps just yet.
We stayed at the San Blas Islands as Captain Mark's houseguests for most of the time we were on the boat. This place really is beautiful with crystal-clear blue water and abundant sealife. I spent most of my time snorkelling and reading. The reefs in the San Blas Islands are not as impressive as those in the Bay Islands of Honduras but still had an impressive array of sealife. I saw lots of barracudas, sting rays, and eagle rays to go along with many of the fish that I saw in Honduras. I also saw dolphins and squid. My boatmates saw sharks but I wasn't so lucky. We ate well while we were anchored at the islands so I can say that my memories of this place are all good.
After five days at sea, we finally arrived in Cartagena, Colombia. Cartagena is one of the more popular tourist destinations in Colombia. I would describe it as a small island of beautiful colonial architecture and fortifications surrounded by a sea of slums. The hotel where I am staying is cheap and upscale compared to what I have gotten used to in Central America but there are plenty of sketchy people in its surroundings. I am spending a few days here getting used to Colombia and running some errands before I start pedaling again.
At the hotel, I smoked a joint with another person staying in the hotel for the first time in over a month. I then went back to my room and watched cable T.V. Here in Latin America, some of the cable channels show cherry-picked reruns of the American cable channels. I saw That's My Bush and Breaking Bad for the first time. Maybe it was the fact that I was stoned for the first time in a long time but these shows seemed brilliant. In That's My Bush, the president was going to celebrate the arrest of the 100 millionth War on Drugs criminal at a White House Press Conference when he accidentally ingests a couple of extasy tablets. The press conference quickly degenerates into a rave with the president dancing like a club kid and being as cuddly as ever. In breaking bad, an underpaid science teacher decides he is going to make some extra money by cooking up methamphetamines. I love it when Hollywood mocks the government. As long as the government persists in its quixotic attempt to fight the War on Drugs, there will be plenty of fodder for the screenwriters to ridicule the government with.
Here I am in Colombia, the frontline on the War on Drugs. This is the land of the F.A.R.C., A.U.C., E.L.N., Pablo Escobar, and the Medellin and Calì cartels. Narcoterrorism was invented here. That being said, drugs seem pretty readily available here. Even though I got a stern warning from Captain Mark, I could have easily carried drugs on board in the Caribbean Sea if I were discrete. The sea to the north of Colombia is one of the most heavily policed bodies of water on this planet but they can do nothing to stop the flow of drugs. For every time they stop a ton of cocaine, ten tons are probably making it through. There are people who openly smoke pot on the street here and I have been accosted on more than one occasion by people selling a variety of drugs.
As a pot smoker, I am indignant at amount of effort that all the governments of the world expend keeping pot illegal. Cigarette smokers blithely walk down the street sucking on their cancer sticks and throwing their cigarette butts whereever they want while drunks beat their wives and kill people in traffic accidents but I have to hide in the shadows and constantly look over my shoulders if I want to smoke a joint. There are so many addictions that are worse than marijuana. Cocaine and heroin are obvious but their are so many addictions that are legal that are worse. Have you ever met someone addicted to sniffing glue or huffing gasoline. It is not a pretty sight. How about someone who is addicted to prescription pills, gambling, or sloth.
The worst addiction of them all is the addiction to all the stuff that seems to afflict most Americans and spreads like a cancer to the rest of the world. This addiction lead to the housing bust afflicting America today. Americans wanting to finance their increasingly expensive lifestyle fell victim to the lure of easy money and easy credit to take out mortgages which they couldn't afford. When the times were flush and the house prices were rising, we were able to flip our houses or take out home equity loans so we could buy bigger cars and more stuff than we could ever reasonably afford. Now the economy has been worsening and our lifestyle is being exposed as unsustainable. The Chinas and Indias of the world want their share of stuff, too leading to the rise in almost all commodity and food prices so they can live like westerners. Those poor kids from the slums of the world that grow up to become drug dealers don't do it so they can provide their families with financial security and health care. They want the bling. Maybe we should end the War on Drugs and start fighting the War on Greed.
I don't smoke cigarettes, I almost never drink alcohol, I don't gamble, I don't snort coke or meth or shoot speed but I smoke pot and ingest an occasional few grams of mushrooms. I am not some retarded, drug-addicted loser who can't take care of his own business. I graduated college with a degree in math while working my way through school and I speak two, soon to be three, languages. I paid off all of my loans before I graduated school and have saved up a shitload of money because I have a simple lifestyle centered around not owning a car. I have a rule where I don't buy anything on credit and I usually don't buy anything that I can't carry on my bicycle. This eliminates a lot of useless shit. People probably say, "You must live like a monk.", but I don't. I eat well, go dancing, and enjoy being with friends, making music and food and merriment. I am currently travelling on the adventure of a lifetime because I have been afforded the opportunity by my own personal responsibility. I think it is fun to smoke a whole bunch of pot and spend four hours cooking. I can't think of many things more fun and spiritually rewarding than taking a bunch of mushrooms and climbing a tree. I harm no one with these activities, not even myself, and I am pissed off that my government wants to say that I am a criminal for this behavior. I will be forever defiant until the government ends its insane War on Drugs.
The drug problem is like a poison ivy rash. The more you scratch it the worse it gets. It itches so bad but you have to resist scratching. You have to treat it intelligently by applying ointment to the affected areas. I understand the visceral reaction that people get when they see someone who has ruined their life because of their addiction. I watched my own father ruin his life because of his drug addiction. He chose being an addict over being a father. He started as just a user and quickly graduated to selling drugs to feed his own habit. People think, "We should lock up all the people who sell these drugs and turn our children into addicts." They never think that these people are victims, too. They never think that they are fathers or mothers and that they are somebody's child. Like the person who scratches his poison ivy rash, the government only gets temporary relief by attacking the supply of drugs. It would do a lot better by attacking the root causes of drug addiction such as social inequality and lack of education and opportunity among abusers. Only when the government tries an intelligent solution rather than a reactionary temporary solution will we be able to win the drug war.
The group of presidential candidates is a little bit narrower now but none of them have any positive, proactive solutions for ending the War on Drugs. With that being said, I am going to announce my candidacy for 2016 when I will be old enough to run for president. I promise that I will gather the heads of the D.E.A. and all the respective leaders of the drug agencies from the rest of the world, and anyone else who is responsible for this mess we have gotten ourselves into. We will have a summit about the War on Drugs. I will bake special brownies and harangue all these people for their asinine drug policies. Afterwords, I will have a shaman administer mushrooms to all them so they can experience what it feels like to dissolve their ego for the very first time.

To South America

Day 185-188 I stayed in Leon
Day 189 ta:2386 kt:93 gps: N 12°08.692' W 86°16.914'
Day 190 and 191 I stayed in Managua
Day 192 ta: 2109 kt:48.1 gps:N 11°55.905' W 85°57.414'
Day 193 I took the ferry to Ometepe Island

After travelling through Mexican colonial towns, Central American colonial towns seem pretty unimpressive. These cities have always been poorer and, hence have more interesting colonial architecture. Moreover, it seems like every Central American town has been destroyed, at least once, by an earthquake. Granada, Nicaragua has been destroyed by pirate raids. That being said, I stayed multiple days in Leon because it is very hot and I was comfortable in the place that I was staying. I didn't do anything special; I just lazed around and did mundane things like file my taxes and watch movies. The main highlight of my stay in Leon was meeting yet another cyclist who is on his way to Southern Argentina. His name is Eric. He is from California and he left from Northern Alaska nine months ago.
The other highlight of my stay was the food. Though it is not quite as good as the food from Mexico, it is a significant improvement over the food from Guatemala and Honduras. I enjoyed the manuelitas, which are like pancakes wrapped around cheese, and the tortas de lechuga, which is rice and beef wrapped in lettuce and then pan grilled.
I finally broke free from Leon and headed to Managua. I rode 90 kilometers starting at noon. On the road, I saw a pedestrian who looked like they had been killed by an overly aggressive bus driver. This seemed kind of ironic to me because, if anything, the drivers in Nicaragua seem to be infinitely more polite than other Latin American drivers. I even had taxi drivers yield the right of way to me. I was stunned. I think that this probably has something to do with the fact that the police actually enforce traffic laws here. I actually saw police using radar detectors while going into Managua on the main highway.
It is really hot in Nicaragua. It feels like an eternal Texas summer in the lowlands. I am well accustomed to the heat but it, nevertheless, saps my energy. I find myself staying in cities for extra time just so I can watch T.V. shows about spoiled, selfish Americans spending thousands of dollars so a plastic surgeon can suck miniscule amounts of fat out of them. I can't help but wonder about how the average Nicaraguan who is struggling to survive feels about Americans when they see these shows.
My guidebook says that Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the western hemisphere after Haiti. This isn't immediately apparent until you reach Managua. There are shanty towns constructed in the cities public parks, the roads have no labels, and there are holes that drop all the way into the cities sewer system as if people stole the lids and sold them for scrap metal. The poverty is not concentrated in any part of the city because it is entirely decentralized after having been destroyed more than once by earthquakes. The working poor of America have nothing on the working poor of Nicaragua. I would like to see an American survive by selling bags of water for ten cents each. As long as these conditions exist in Latin America there will always be illegal immigrants coming to the U.S. no matter how high we build a fence nor how many laws we pass against them.
I spent several days in Managua running errands which proved to be quite tedious due to the lack of proper road markings. I purchased a needle and thread so I can sew my tire back together if need be, sent a form to the I.R.S., and extended my visa in the immigration office.
Bureaucracy is the worst form of oppression. I would rather have my eyes gouged out by birds, take a tazer to the balls, or use sand paper as toilet paper. My personal version of Hell would be just like that of Sisyphus but instead of having a rock to roll up a hill only for it to roll down again I would have a form that needed to be notarized an infinite number of times in an infinite number of government agencies. That being said, I thought I would be able to get my visa extension in about an hour or so which was unrealistic because that would be some kind of bureacratic record. Not only did the clerk quit helping me to check her text messages on her cell phone but she actually left one line in a document unsigned so she could go eat lunch. I just said, "Fuck it." and went to go eat lunch myself. If I ever run amok I make sure to do it at some sort of bureacratic office and make sure I only kill bureaucrats. The experience was so aggravating that I decided to stretch my errands out to two days instead of one.
I eventually left Managua for a one-day stop at Granada and the onward to the Island of Ometepe. I have heard good things about this place so I hope that I won't be disappointed.

Day 194-199 I stayed on the Island de Ometepe
Day 200 ta:970 kt:30.8 gps: N 11°26.614' W 85°49.566'

My gear and my body are going through some wear-and-tear. The valve on my camelbak has a hole the size of a bird's eye, rendering it useless and forcing me to divert my trip through San Jose, Costa Rica to find a new valve or, if necessary, a new bladder. I can carry the same amount of water but I have to stop to drink it now.
I had a case of athlete's foot that turned into some painful blisters between my toes and then a bacterial infection. I have finally solved this problem by lazing around my hotel room and only wearing flip-flops so my feet could breathe. Since I am going to go back to exclusively camping in Costa Rica, I figured it would be best to solve this problem now. I don't want to get my feet amputed because I have gangrene( I am far from having gangrene).
While in Ometepe, I hiked to the top of the taller of the two twin volcanos named Concepción. I managed to save $20 by refusing to hire a guide. After the fact, one of the guides practically begged me to tell other travellers that it was possible to hike to the top without a guide. Seeing that it was his bread-and-butter, I acceded to this request. I would not particularly recommend this to the general traveller anyway because the trail is relatively dangerous and if you got hurt you might be stuck there for a couple of days. I, however, am stupid and have a G.P.S. device making it nigh impossible to get lost. The trail was steep and very rocky meaning that it was actually harder to descend than ascend. I conquered the mountain only to see a cloud-obscured sulfurous pit at the top and to be humbled later on. During the descent I had to step very carefully because there was always the danger of losing my footing or getting my feet wedged between rocks and stumbling forward, thereby breaking my ankles. I descended slowly, stoped a lot, and planned almost every step. By the time I got to the bottom, I was stumbling forward and my legs were trembling from having to balance backward on such a steep slope. As an added treat, my quadriceps stiffened up over the next few days to the point that it hurt to walk or get up from a lying or seated position. The spasms were so bad that it hurt when I barely touched them. I looked like an old man inching around with muscle spasms in my legs and blisters between my toes. I am better now and my feelings of youthful immortality have returned.
While recovering from my various ailments, I mostly found myself lying in a hammock and reading or watching movies with the hotel crew. Oh what a thrill it was to see the retrofuturistic dystopian shoot-em-up Robocop dubbed in Spanish. I actually remember going to see that movie in the theaters when I was kid. It actually made me start thinking about the present state of the world. The prices of food and fuel (they are related) have been marching inexorably upward for the past year while we are most likely about to enter into a multiyear recession caused by the bursting of the international housing bubble. There are food riots in Haiti and road blockades in Managua to protest rising fuel prices. The Chinese and the Indians want to drive their cars everywhere and eat meat every meal just like the Americans and in doing so are proving just how unsustainable our lifestyle is with a planet of only six billion people on it. I hate to think about how bad these problems will be in 2050 when the world's population is projected to reach 9 billion people. In a few decades the Detroit City of Robocop will seem quaint compared to the reality. Make and sure to stop and smell the roses now while you can before global warming kills all of the rose bushes.

Day 201 ta:2383 kt: 59.1 gps: N 11°03.142' W 85°37.565'

This morning when I woke up there was a man who had just gotten his passport and $600 stolen from the people he was sharing his room with. I think he was Costa Rican. I felt sorry for him because he was in a bad situation but I also feel like he could have been more careful. If I am in a shared room I sleep holding my wallet and passport and my knife is never farther away than arm's reach. You can never be too careful.
I crossed into Costa Rica today. It was surprisingly more annoying getting out of Nicaragua than getting into Costa Rica. I had to stand in line and wait for the immigration officer to give me my exit stamp whereas when I got to the Costa Rican immigration office I didn't have to wait in line or pay any money for my entrance exam. I have become a veteran border crosser at this point in my journey.
Costa Rica is supposed to be a lot better off than Nicaragua. This is not immediately apparent as you cross the border but becomes more so once you go further inland. The houses are constructed more or less like they are in the U.S. and not made of mud and scrap metal like they often are in Honduras or Nicaragua. There seem to be more trees than are on the isthmus in Nicaragua but it is still hot and dry which should change as I enter more highly elevated land soon.
This morning, the morning before I left Rivas, Nicaragua, I went to the marketplace to eat breakfast. There was a crazy homeless man who seemed to get his kicks by touching people on the back of the neck. When he tried to do it to me earlier, I just turned around and said, "No!," thinking that he was trying to ask me for money. I don't like being touched by strangers at all. It wasn't until later that I realized that this was how he amused himself. I felt bad entertaining myself with his insanity but I couldn't help but laugh while watching the reactions of different people. Some people just ignored him and continued walking while others slapped his hand away. The funniest moment is when a man reared back in a boxer's stance to fight him. When I asked some ladies at the bus station next to the marketplace what was wrong with him they told me he had smoked too much crack. Oh well, I guess he brought this on himself.

Day 202 ta: 1966 kt: 82.8 gps: N 10°31.544' W 85°15.755'

It was surprisingly cold when I woke up this morning. I was, after all, in the lowlands where it is quite hot during the day. The reason for the chilliness was the strong wind that was blowing from the mountains to my east towards the sea to my west. There were times when the wind was so strong that I had to ride diagonally just to ride straight and keep myself from being blown off the road.
My previous two days were meant to be light, therapeutic days to stretch out my still tight quadriceps. This definitely did the trick. I feel as good as new and I think I could have conceivably rode another 60 kilometers today if I hadn't taken my four hour lunch and internet break.
I have seen a lot of people riding nice bikes here. This leads me to think that I should have no problem replacing my camelbak and finding new bike tires. I think that I will save this errand for San Jose as I am getting along fine with these tires right now.

Day 203 ta: 4372 kt: 51.4 gps: N 10°26.272' W 84°56.836'

Though beautiful in many places, the entire country of Costa Rica seems to be one giant tourist trap. The citizens of Costa Rica have devised numerous ways to get gringo money. I even see signs, in English, advertising time shares. Everything here is at least 50% more expensive than the rest of Latin America except, maybe, the internet cafes. For this reason, I have decided to camp the whole way except for when I am in San Jose looking for bike supplies. Fortunately for me, there seem to be laws governing the offset between the highway and fences. I haven't had any problem finding good hiding places.
I spent most of my day charging up a hill and into a headwind. I knew I was in trouble when I saw the windfarm on top of the hill. I have a feeling that I am going to be charging into this headwind for the next couple of days.
The part of Costa Rica that I am travelling through is cowboy country through and through. When I stopped in the town of Tilaran, they even had some kind of horse parade. All the horses were trimmed and made-up while the men and women were wearing their cowboy best.
I decided to call an early day, not because I was tired, but because I liked the spot where I was at. My original plan was to ride to a hotel close to the bioreserve of Monteverde and use it as a base of operations to explore the park. My new plan is to ride to the park and ride back. I don't trust the accuracy of the Lonely Planet anymore and I don't want to be gouged by a local hotel.
When I was riding up a hill today I found a new treasure: it is a motorcycle helmet, not one of those full-face helmets but one that only covers the top of my head and has spikes on it. It has a faded sticker on it that says, "Ride it like you stole it." I usually don't like helmets but this one makes me look lie a post-apocalyptic bandit in a Mad Max movie. Hell yeah!

Day 204 ta:3196 kt:23.3 gps: N 10°21.222' W 84°52.217'

I woke up with a sore throat, afraid that I was coming down with a cold. This is not the greatest way to feel before you enter a dirt road. The useless Lonely Planet, or course, doesn't mention that it is an unpaved road. There are all sorts of trips for gay travellers but none for cyclists. The funny thing is that I haven't met a single openly gay traveller but I have met nine other cyclists. I am happy that there are tips for gay travellers; I just wish that they indicated unpaved roads on their maps.
The feeling crappy and riding on the dirt road were all worth it because I saw one of those gorgeous green-beaked toucans. Parrots are as common as pigeons and monkeys are as common as squirrels, but toucans are relatively rare and elusive. Maybe some time shortly I will get to see a quetzal. That would be something.

Day 205 ta:3252 kt:32.4 gps: N 10°28.177'
Day 206 I stayed in Tilaran
Day 207 ta:1145 kt:12.5 gps: N 10°31.245' W 84°57.724'

I still wasn't feeling super-great on the day that I was supposed to go to Monteverde. Because of this, I ended up stopping and turning around about 8 kilometers before I got to the park. I was just going to turn around anyway and I was getting tired of the crappy dirt road. I had reached a point in the road where I couldn't start back up after I had stopped to take a rest. There are not a lot of things that are as frustrating as losing your traction while going up a 15° dirt road. I had already seen a green-beak toucan, a green toucanette, and some pretty scenery so I was happy.
Going back towards Tilaran was a lot easier due to the fact that the head wind was now a tailwind. The wind was so strong that there was actually one part of the road where I accelerated uphill without pedalling.
I still felt a little funky when I reached Tilaran so I decided to stay at a hotel for a day. I had a slight fever and a runny nose so resting seemed like a good idea. When I took a shower, an entire river of dirt flowed off of my skin into the drain. It was satisfying to be clean again.
When I finally made it out of Tilaran today, another screw in my bike rack jiggled loose and caused me to turn right back around. I found one screw but the other was missing and I thought it would be better to deal with this while I was close to civilization. I think that I had been missing one screw for a while because I noticed a strange feeling whenever I stood up while going uphill a couple of days earlier but I couldn't figure out what was wrong with my bike. Since I often spend entire days on my bike, I am quite attuned to weird sounds and feelings but I can't always figure out what is causing them. I stopped and checked my bike many times but didn't notice the screw was missing until today. This was an easy problem to fix but it delayed my leaving the city even longer.
I am camped right now on top of a hill in someone's ranch. How can I not camp at a place like this when they make it so easy to enter their property by giving me gates. Anyway, I plan to get up early tomorrow and leave before anyone notices anything. If there were no clouds, I would have an unobstructed view of Mount Arenal, the most active volcano in Costa Rica.

Day 208 ta:4038 kt:71.8 gps: N 10°28.731' W 84°36.200'

I rode along the northern edge of Arenal for most of the day today. There was a lot of tree cover so I didn't have to deal with the fierce headwind but the hills did add up. There were many signs, in English, proudly proclaiming the area as Costa Rica's "Lake Tahoe". Yuk!! I saw so many "For Sale" signs that and ads for realtors that I couldn't help but wonder if Costa Rica was going through a housing bust of its own. The lake isn't that great in my opinion. I would much rather live along Lake Atitlan in Guatemala than here. The only active draws here are the jungle wildlife and the very active Arenal which constantly puts on nighttime lava shows.
I saw more toucans today. I was also finally able to take a good picture of a monkey. He was perched on a branch right off of the road, just at eye level. When I got my camera out he just stayed there calmly while I shot my picture. That will not happen again.
When I was riding by the volcano, it started smoking real heavily. This excited me because I thought I was going to witness a major eruption and I have always wanted to see one. I didn't want to see anything of Krakatau magnitude but I did want to hear explosions and feel the earth tremble. Alas, it was not meant to be. By the time I stopped my bike to take a picture, the angry volcano had relaxed a bit and was no longer pumping out large amounts of ash. Maybe, I will get to see something like this in South America.
After I arrived in the town of Fortuna, Costa Rica, I was very surprised to run into Sjaak, the very first cycle tourist whom I met in Zacatecas, Mexico. I thought he would be well into South America by now. I felt bad that I had to cut our conversation short but the sun was about to set and I had to get out of the tourist-trap town. It is always a bad sign if you are in a Spanish speaking country and, yet, all the signs are in English. There are also lots of expensive looking hotels with views of the volcano along the road. I got out of the city with about 30 minutes to spare and am now camped on the edge of some kind of orchard. I can not identify the trees which have all been planted in rows here. Maybe they bear some kind of nut. Anyway, I would have a good view of Arenal if it wasn't shrouded in clouds, again.

Day 209 ta:3615 kt: 69.5 gps: N 10°20.794' W 84°14.678'

I have been slacking off recently but I have a nice punishment planned for tomorrow: I get to start my day off with at least 5,000 of ascent. Woo hoo! The mountains to my south look imposing and intimidating being cloaked in clouds. A number of people tried to give me directions for an easier way to San Jose from Ciudad Quezada but I paid them no heed because I would rather suffer a little and go on the more scenic, mountainous route.
There were a bunch of red-winged blackbirds on the side of the road today. They are supposed to migrate as far north as Texas but I have never seen one there before.
Right now, I am camped above the Rio Toro underneath the bridge that passes over it. The rapids here have the muddy appearance of volcano run-off. The water has stained the rocks on the edge a coffee color. It really makes me want to take up kayaking.

Day 210 ta:7395 kt: 74.2 gps: N 9°56.277' W 84°04.480'
Day 211 I stayed in San Jose
Day 212 ta: kt:14.8 gps: N 9°50.927' W 84°05.976'

Near the beginning of my day riding towards San Jose, I found a hummingbird on the side of the road. It actually willingly perched on my finger when I went to pick it up. If it was sick, I didn't want it to die the undignified death of being splattered by a semi. Eventually, after I tried to get it to perch on a barbed wire fence, it flew off on its own as if nothing were wrong.
I knew that I was going to have to pay for my sin of sloth and, boy, did I suffer. I actually ascended more in one day than I have ever done before. There were several times when I had to stop and ring about a pint of sweat out of my shirt. Despite my suffering, the ride was beautiful. The whole area between the town of San Miguel and San Jose is mostly undeveloped cloudforest. There is some development along the side of the road but it is mostly untouched. I even passed by a couple of pristine waterfalls that are right next to the road.
I didn't get to San Jose until after nightfall because of my all-day-long ascent. Arriving in a large metropolitan area at night is not my favorite thing to do but it is a necessary evil sometimes. I had to come to San Jose because I needed to look for replacement parts for my bike and camelbak. I did manage to find the hostel where I wanted to stay but not without riding through some sketchy areas of town filled with the usual suspects of glue-sniffers and thuggish looking people.
The place where I stayed is called Tranquilo Backpackers. It is in downtown San Jose and was a pretty good value for my $10 a night. They whip up a bunch of pancake batter every morning for all of the guest to make their own pancakes. It is kind of fun to see the disasters that some people cook up. They have free internet and the first steel-stringed guitars that I have seen in all of Latin America. Most importantly, they have a kitten. I could see myself being comfortable at this place for a while but that $10 can add up fast.
As usual, I didn't actually leave the city until real late. I discovered some loose screws with stripped nuts that I felt that I had to replace. This of course, took more time to do than I anticipated because it was hard to remove the old screw. I also promised a guy from Singapore that I would fetch a pair of sunglasses for him because he like the pair that I had just purchased. That being said, I barely made it out of the city. I am now camped in a banana/coffee plantation right now hoping that I don't get discovered. Because I am crazy and a glutton for punishment, I think I am going to ride straight through the highest part of the country over the next couple of days.

Day 213 ta:1744 kt: 16.1 gps: N 9°46.527' W 84°04.247'
Day 214 ta: 2796 kt:18.1 gps: N 9°44.596' W 83°58.337'

I haven't travelled much in the last few days but I did read over 300 pages of a book and finish it. I have become a voracious reader on this trip. Already, I have probably tripled the number of books that I have read since I graduated college four years ago. I have been reading so much that it has slowed me down every time I have a good book.
The mountains where I am at are covered in coffe plantations. If they aren't covered in coffee plantations they are covered in cloudforests. It is mostly cool and misty where I am at right now. I might top out at over 10,000 feet tomorrow so I expect it to be downright cold. I will probably have to dig out my cold weather gear. I am already wearing my full length bicycle tights.
Yesterday, I passed the satellite dish that I believe scientists use to try to communicate with extraterrestrial life forms. It was huge, at least 50 feet across. Shortly afterwards, I saw a turquoise-browed motmot. It has a funny name but it is a beautiful bird. It is the national bird of Nicaragua but they live in Costa Rica, too.
My flashlight has become my latest gear casualty. It barely gives off any light at all and bleeds the battery after I turn it off. I don't think that there is a single piece of gear that I can't destroy on a bicycle tour.

Day 215 ta: 4890 kt: 89.4 gps: N 9°22.461' W 83°42.183'
Day 216 ta: 1075 kt: 32.9 gps: N 9°15.296' W 83°30.427'

Yesterday, I climbed to the top of el Cerro de la Muerte which means the Hill of Death. It seems like a pretty ironic name since the place is overgrown with plant life. I topped out just 8 feet shy of 11,000 feet. Even in the tropics, it is cold above 10,000 feet. The rain didn't make things any better. It was misty all morning but it actually started raining about 4 hours before sunset. I had finally figured out a comfortable clothing arrangement until it started to raining. I kept my torso covered while I allowed my body to cool through my bicycle tights. The rain fucked that arrangement up. I was able to stay warm until I started to descend but, once I started to descend, I got real cold real fast. I had to stop at a restaurant and have some hot soup and hot tea. I didn't want to get hypothermia. I also put on some extra winter gear for the descent.
The 8,500 feet of descent might have been a lot more fun if the roads weren't slick and I wasn't cold and wet. I had to hold onto my brakes the whole time just to prevent myself from sliding out and losing traction. I used my brakes so much that I had to stop just to give my hands a rest every once and a while. If the conditions were dryer, I would have zoomed down the entire mountain at 50+ kilometer per hour and would have had a hell of a time doing it.
The whole area that I rode through has an almost enchanted feel. All of the forests here are as green as can be. Plants grow on plants which grow on other plants. Occasionally a view of the mountainside with clouds rolling up the hills would open up. If I wasn't so cold and wet, I would have been mesmerized by the beauty of this place.
I pretty much decided that I was going to ride all the way to the town of San Isidro, Costa Rica, named for the patron saint of farmers. I wanted to stay in a hotel as soon as it started raining. Unfortunately, the sun set before I got there. All those years of riding my bike at night ninja-style without any lights or reflectors paid off as I was able to successfully navigate the highway and avoid vehicles.
I only got a half-day of riding in today as I got enmeshed in the comforts of the city as I have a tendency to do. With about three hours to go until the sun set, it started raining again. Rather than tough it out, I decided to set up camp early. I really get tired of waking up with wet shoes. Hopefully, I can make it to Panama with minimal rain.

Day 217 ta: 2321 kt: 71.1 gps: N 8°57.815' W 83°08.993'

I rather enjoyed a nice leisurely ride through many miles of virgin rainforests today. My favorite part was when the road followed the clay-red colored Rio General. There was even one spot where two twin 200-foot waterfalls flowed into the river. While I was relaxing by the waterfalls, I saw a coati. I should cross into Panama tomorrow. I am expecting more mountains and more cloudforests. The stretches of road that travel from San Miguel to San Jose and then from San Jose to San Vito on the border have been two of the more scenic routes that I have followed.
I read in the news recently that an Arkansas is supposed to give birth for the eighteenth time. I am disgusted. I don't care if the family is debt free. The average American consumes 32 times more resources than the average person in the developing world. Since the world's farmers sell their crops to the highest bidder, people like here are the reason that Haitian children eat mud.
I have also been thinking about Barack Obama's former pastor, the Reverend Jeremiah Wright. I think he is taking it a little far to say that there is a conspiracy to kill black people with A.I.D.S. but I think he has a point when he says terrorists attack us because we commit acts of terrorism. When our government assassinates a Somali warlord we say it is a necessary strategic elimination. When Hezbollah assassinates a Lebanese leader, we say it is terrorism. When we secretly fly someone to a country that uses torture and don't allow them to communicate with anyone, we call it extreme rendition. When the F.A.R.C. kidnaps someone and holds them for ransom we call it terrorism. I am not saying that these are not terrorist acts, I am saying that we commit terrorist acts, too. There can be no double standards. All is fair in love and war and war is hell. For every terrorist action there is an equal/greater terrorist reaction.

Day 218 ta: 4355 kt: 51.3 gps: N 8°49.079' W 82°51.783'

I planned to cross the border into Panama today but my plans were thwarted by dirt roads and rain. When I arrived at the border, the immigration offices for both countries were already closed.
Just to prove that things operate differently here in Latin America, I am camped at the police station. I asked permission and they said yes. I could have easily crossed into Panama illegally but I am not anxious to find out what kind of bureaucratic delays this could cause. I plan to get my exit and entry stamps when I wake up tomorrow.
The rear hub on my bicycle is loose and it is making me nervous. If it wasn't a sealed hub, I would swear that I needed to regrease and repack the bearings. My wheel jiggles from side to side. I can feel the play in the wheel whenever I go uphill. Hopefully, I will be able to tighten my hub and solve this problem tomorrow morning. If not, I can add sealed hubs to the growing list of bicyle parts that I have ruined in my eleven years as a bicycle commuter. I should be able to make it to David, Panama soon where I should be able to get a new hub.

Day 219 ta:4564 kt: 54.8 gps: N 8°40.140' W 82°37.916'

When I woke up this morning, I had to wait for the Costa Rican and Panamanian immigration offices to open so I played with my rear wheel. I managed to tighten the two bolts on the outside of the wheel and this solved my jiggly wheel problem but now it doesn't seem to spin as well. I think I am going to have to replace the hub.
I had to wait an extra hour for the Costa Rican immigration office to open. Even though the buildings are no more than 200 feet apart, they operate in different time zones. That was no problem. I just went and ate breakfast while I waited. It cost me $25 to enter Panama, about $20 more than I expected. I might as well throw my fucking useless Lonely Planet away because, although it is the newest addition, it is thouroughly outdated by the time it is published. This, fortunately was no problem because I expected to have to pay the Costa Rican immigration office $26 and didn't have to pay anything. I should have plenty of money to make it to David, Panama.
Speaking of money, although the Panamanian standard of living is high, Panama does not suffer from the scourge of too many tourists like Costa Rica does. I immediately realized that the food was about 33% cheaper than in Costa Rica; it is better, too.
I probably rode through my last Central American rainforest today. It is replete with exotic plants, wildlife, and waterfalls cascading down cliffs on the side of the road. Tomorrow I should enter the Pacific lowlands where I expect to see a bunch of boring farms and ranches. Oh well, I should be in Colombia soon.

Dady 220 ta: 1247 kt:70.2 gps: N 8° 24.038' W 82°12.816'

Rain has been the story of my last week. It has rained 5 out of the last 6 days. It rained real hard today. I think that the rainy season is beginning.
I remember when a friend of mine from high school and I would trade irreverent jokes. I would say, "When it rains, God is pissing on us.", and he would reply, "It only rains when the angels masturbate." Ancient cultures prayed to the rain gods but I wonder if the nomadic tribes were among them. Rain is great when you are inside by the fire and you have crops planted but not so great if you are on the back of a horse or on foot in an open plain with no trees. All the rain does then is makes you cold and wet.
I have been a waterlogged nomad for the last week. At 11,000 feet, I had to take precautions against hypothermia. I had to hold my brakes while riding downhill so my wheels wouldn't lock up and slide out from underneath me. A slide-out at 50 kilometers per hour can be deadly and, at the very least, break my hip. It also only seems to rain when I am climbing mountains and it is uncomfortable to wear my rain gear because of all the sweating I do underneath. From now on, I am going to try to do most of my riding before the afternoon because that is when the rain comes in the tropics. I am camped underneath a bridge right now which means that I won't have to use my rain fly for my tent and I will wake up dry and happy.
I read in the news that the Vatican has given its official approval to the belief in extraterrestrial life forms. If only it could approve of contraception.

Day 221 ta: 4133 kt:96.6 gps: N 8°12.151' W 81°30.575'

It didn't rain today and for that I am grateful but, man, was it humid. The air was so dense with moisture that it actually started drizzling without there being a cloud in the sky. I have actually seen this phenomenon a couple of times in Costa Rica as well. It did not rain but it might as well because my shirt, bike shorts, and socks were completely soaked with sweat. To make matters worse, I have developed one of the rashes caused by the excessive moisture and friction in a sensitive, unmentionable area. All I can do is apply appointment to it.
Aside from the heat and humidity, I actually had a good day. I discovered a distinct form of Panamanian music called cantadera. When I heard the music, I had one of those reactions where I geeked out and starting asking as many questions as possible about it. I plan to do some more investigation and buy some pirated CDs soon.

Day 222 ta:2653 kt: 103 gps: N 8°08.214' W 80°41.078'

I had two wildlife highlights today: I saw a large butterfly with purple wings and a live snake. I have seen plenty of snake roadkill but this is, surprisingly, the first live snake that I have seen in Latin America. I did not see if it was a pit viper nor did I try. I am not particularly afraid of snakes but I am wise enough to let them run since I do not carry antivenom as part of my medical kit. Generally, if you make any noise at all when you walk and watch where you step, you won't have any problem with snakes.
After I passed through Santiago, Panama today, the land flattened out and I had a nice strong tailwind. I was flying. If the land remains flat tomorrow and I have the same tailwind, I might try to ride the entire 215 kilometers to Panama City. That is a big if though. If anything, I would like to ride over a hundred kilometers tomorrow so I can get to Panama city before nightfall the next day.

Day 223 ta:1376 kt:64.9 gps: N 8°30.834' W 80°20.954'
Day 224 I stayed in Penonome
Day 225 ta:1520 kt:60.5 gps: N 8°29.871' W 79°57.482'

Whenever I plan on a long day, something always ruins it. The strong tailwind shifted into a strong headwind, I had several flat tires, and my rash graduated from being merely irritating to being painful.
I had the opportunity to learn how to sew my tires shut when the steel wire that gives my tire form seperated from the rubber in another spot. At first, it was frustrating trying to figure out the proper stitching but I eventually figured it out. My rear tire looks bad. Not only have I worn off the treads but I can actually see the thread mesh poking through the rubber. I absolutely need to replace my rear tire in Panama City. It will not last much longer. I also need to replace my rear cassette, chain, and brake pads. I rode around Penonome for a while looking for replacement tires but to no avail.
My bike is not the reason I stopped in Penonome. My rash in the unmentionable place, let's just call it saddle sore, became so painful that it hurt to ride my bike. There is only one cure for saddle sore: get off the saddle and don't wear tight shorts. I rented a room in the cheapest hotel room that I could find and spent a lot of time watching T.V. in my room naked. The day of rest helped me and I can now ride my bike without grimacing in pain.
Panama actually seems to have a culture distinct from other parts of Central America. Children here play baseball instead of soccer, lots of men wear distinct straw hats that look like cowboy hats curved upward at the front, and there seems to be a lot more racial diversity here. There are blacks on the Caribbean side of all Central American countries and there are Asians in all of the big cities but Panama has sizeable minorities of both in all of the towns on the Panamerican highway. Another thing that I noticed is that most of the general stores and restaurants are owned by Asians. There also seem to be larger numbers of indigenous people in Panama than in the other Central American countries with Guatemala being the obvious exception. The Kuna Indians seem to have the most style out of all the Indians I have seen in Central America. I really appreciate all this racial diversity. It all contributes to a very unique culture.
All say several items in the news that were of interest to me. One is that there is a church of the Jedi in Great Britain. The entire religion is based on the philosophical musings of Yoda and the rest of the Jedi Council from the Star Wars movies. George Lucas should be proud that he unintentionally spawned a new religion.
The other article that I saw was an article that stated that the average American wedding cost over $28,000. I was disgusted. That is so wasteful. To put in context, I would like to show how much money this would be if it were invested over a 50 year period at a 10% rate of return which is doable. I estimated up to $30,000 to simplify matters. When I punched the number into an interest rate calculator, it ended up being over three and a half million dollars. Considering that most marriages in the U.S end up in divorce, I would rather keep the money. I would rather have a pepper spray enema than marry one of these golddiggers.

Day 226 ta: 3025 kt: 89.1 gps: N 8°58.976' W 79° 31.494'
Day 227-231 I stayed in Panama City

I made it into Panama City with a few problems but nothing that I couldn't handle. I had to fix a spoke and my rash came back. When I reached the Bridge of the Americas, a cop made me get off my bike and hitchhike across. I was ready to go across but the cops seem to frown on that. There are some gnarly looking ghettos on the other side of the bridge but I didn't have any problems there.
I haven't done anything special here in Panama City. I have just rested and surfed the internet a lot. One day, I rode down to the ghetto and bought a pirated copy of the new Indiana Jones movie. The quality of the movie is terrible but the credits were in French which makes me think that a person snuck a camera into the Canne's film festival in France and filmed the premier of the movie. Go pirates!
My bike was hurting. I replaced the rear tire, rear cassette, chain, brake pads, and rear hub. I am proud to say that this is the very first time that I have destroyed a hub. I am very proud of that accomplishment.