Woody writes to tell of his adventures in getting to and onto the German boat that brought him from Panama to Colombia. He was (possibly still is) with two other riders from Oregon. I can only imagine what went on and the worries and laughter that likely followed...
(Note that I do have a movie of a Minnesota water crossing. I can't post it, I don't think, but if you're dying to see how it went, comment and ask for me to send it to you separately. But, I'm going to need some credentials to confirm that you are not a secret agent for any radical environmental group or government agency. One showing and it's pretty clear that KTMs don't do great things for the natural water flow.)
From Woody:
"the drive to the boat was great, winding up and through the hills on a new dirt road with great views and fresh air. finally moving away from the heat and the people. we were charged $6 a person to drive on this new road, apparently because we were americans. i have experienced this over-charging on several occasions and it bothers me quite a bit. it is less for anyone else.
as the road worked its way back down to sea level, we came to the river. of course the road went right through it. there was a truck on the far side, full of people, overheated, adding water to the radiator. we waited for a bit, but eventually decided that there was enough room on the left side of the truck to make it. i, being the oldest and most experienced rider (yeah right!), went first. the bottom was nice; small gravel and even looking. back in minnesota last summer, after one of my first ever water-crossings, i vowed that i would always walk the water before trying to drive it. ever since then however, i have found a reason not to walk it. i always seem to forget about the effect that water has in refracting the eye. for some other reason, i always think that i can make it through without getting my feet wet. so, to the left i went, shooting a straight line for the opening near the truck. when my exhaust pipes were under water, i knew that i had underestimated the depth of the water. but alas i had committed and had no choice but to stay on the throttle and pull us out of the quickly developed, dire situation. and we made it, with washed boots and pants and practically half of a jacket. the others, after seeing my near disaster, stayed right, where the water was less than a foot deep. andrew´s bike stalled however, and since he had been having electrical issues, this meant that we had to push him through the river and pop-start his bike on the other side.
the road dead-ended at the same river, where there were a dozen vehicles parked. when the canoe pulled up for the bike, i had my doubts. it was maybe 24 feet long and less than 3 feet wide. the bank was 4 feet above the bottom of the canoe, which made loading a bit more difficult. i helped andrew and milan load their bikes first (kawasaki klr´s, which are at least 100 pounds lighter than the ktm.) and watched as they motored away, rocking back and forth and gripping tightly to their machines. milan´s bike shifted and almost went over the edge. glad i waited to see how it was done. with my bike safely in and perched on the center-stand, and me on top of it with a foot on either gunwale. i was off to the Caribbean sea and the mighty german ¨stahlratte¨, which literally means, ¨steel rat¨, a fitting name for the ancient vessel."
I love that Woody can recognize his old, wise, experienced self might not be all that wise and experienced. At least he isn't fooling himself! You have to appreciate the modesty; now if only he gave a little deference to his wise old sister...
More to follow in the days to come ---
-- luludilly
29 April 2009
28 April 2009
Villa Leyva, Colombia
Finally heard from Woody on Sunday morning:
"first computer time since panama and it is late and i need to have a bit of time to unwind before i sleep, so i just wanted to tell you that all is truly well and that i will write you a bunch about what has been going on in the next couple of days."
He is now in Villa Leyva, a town of about 4,000, founded in 1572, with incredible historical architecture that has been preserved. Look at the posted pictures from the map.
View Larger Map
According to Wiki, this town was where Zorro, the soap opera was filmed. For any followers in Mrs. Neal's Spanish II class, this ought to ring a bell. It is also the setting for part of Love in the Time of Cholera (a favorite).
I'll let you know more of the Woody adventures once I get them.
-- luludilly
"first computer time since panama and it is late and i need to have a bit of time to unwind before i sleep, so i just wanted to tell you that all is truly well and that i will write you a bunch about what has been going on in the next couple of days."
He is now in Villa Leyva, a town of about 4,000, founded in 1572, with incredible historical architecture that has been preserved. Look at the posted pictures from the map.
View Larger Map
According to Wiki, this town was where Zorro, the soap opera was filmed. For any followers in Mrs. Neal's Spanish II class, this ought to ring a bell. It is also the setting for part of Love in the Time of Cholera (a favorite).
I'll let you know more of the Woody adventures once I get them.
-- luludilly
25 April 2009
Colombia Colombia
View Larger Map
Woody is inland near the town of Curumani, which apparently is quite small. In my search about it, I discovered a blog posting for two cyclists. Not motorcycles but bicycles. I must say that my anxiety over Woody's motorcycle habit trespassing into Colombia lessened dramatically upon the discovery. If two young bicyclists were able to pass through this country --- and only just last fall --- well, Woods will be okay.
I'm hoping we'll get a real update from him soon, but for now this is it.
-- luludilly
24 April 2009
Cartagena, Colombia
It looks like Woody is in a marina in a port near the city of Cartagena. It looks big. No news from the little man himself yet, but I'm taking this as a positive sign that they made it past the Darien Gap and have not encountered any pirates. I think I'll be able to sleep tonight. If not, there's always Hornitos.
Here is a new take on a utilitarian motorcycle. I'm sure Woody was thinking, "I could put a table saw on that!"
Writing from K-zoo, with our Latvian gypsy and her sweetheart, because even big sisters need a road trip now and then...
-- luludilly
22 April 2009
heartburn
It appears now that they have sailed further from the coast -- which is good (farther from the rebels of the Darien Gap.) If anyone mentions pirates I'm going to lose another night's sleep and possibly be hospitalized for self-medicating my anxiety. Note that although I have all sorts of ailments, including possibly the need for knee replacements and a stress ulcer, I have consumed more antacids in the last three days than is healthy and I still can't get my chest to stop hurting, so pirates are not something I need to think about.
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=9.8275,-77.0743&ie=UTF8&om=1&ll=9.8275,-77.0743&spn=10.594267,17.53418&z=6
Here are some shots of Rich and Rach and Wood and Rach in Costa Rica. Look closer and the green building has a sign for Alka Seltzer --- apropro. And a shot of Richard's motorcycle collecting stickers --- let's not guess what might be in that bag...
-- luludilly
21 April 2009
Is Woody Seaworthy
Woody is still out there, off his motorcycle and on the waves, hopefully not seasick. Although having just watched some of his action videos, shot dangerously from a moving motorcycle ala the Latvian Gypsy, I can’t imagine anyone could be any sicker than me --- 90 degree, hair pin corners, the steady grrrr of the KTM engine putt-putting along at maybe 8 or 10 km, with an occasional drop into the crotch or off the wrist when a corner is miscalculated or a loud bus is barreling down the center line…nothing safer or more steady than that.
I'm not sure when, but he is getting close to being off the shore of the Darien Gap, which is what we have all been the most afraid of during this trip. There are no roads so it is not passable, but our understanding is that is controlled by rebels only and is incredibly dangerous and violent.
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=9.5112,-78.6176&ie=UTF8&om=1&ll=9.519158,-78.617477&spn=0.165912,0.273972&z=12&iwloc=A
Wikipedia's quick summary of the political challenges:
"The Darién Gap is subject to the presence and activities of three Colombian rebel groups. These include the United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia (AUC), a right-wing paramilitary group formerly headed by Carlos Castaño; and both left-wing National Liberation Army (ELN) and Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). All three groups have committed human rights violations. The U.S. State Department reported that combined, the ELN and FARC have been responsible for 51 kidnappings and ten murders of U.S. citizens. Kidnappings are common for political and financial gain."
Lots of prayers, please.
-- luludilly
Just in at 6:30 this morning, Woody is on the sailboat, current location:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=9.4814,-78.8182&ie=UTF8&om=1&ll=9.412484,-78.916168&spn=0.331926,0.547943&t=p&z=11&iwloc=A
Off the coast of Panama. Check out the posted pictures on google maps (not Wood's, but others) and then think about our recent snow. Some guys have all the luck.
-- luludilly
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=9.4814,-78.8182&ie=UTF8&om=1&ll=9.412484,-78.916168&spn=0.331926,0.547943&t=p&z=11&iwloc=A
Off the coast of Panama. Check out the posted pictures on google maps (not Wood's, but others) and then think about our recent snow. Some guys have all the luck.
-- luludilly
19 April 2009
P.S. Sister Confession
Tonight, looking at 703 photos of my brother's travels, his new friends, the incredible sights, him...well, I am proud of Woody, but I can't lie: I really hate this habit sometimes.
And so, little brother, you are missed more than you know. We are all hoping and praying for your safe travels to continue and that one of these days we will have you home. If you run into trouble, warn the perpetrators that I will find them -- at all costs -- so they best leave you alone. Sorta like my threats on the school bus back in 1988...I mean business.
-- luludilly
And so, little brother, you are missed more than you know. We are all hoping and praying for your safe travels to continue and that one of these days we will have you home. If you run into trouble, warn the perpetrators that I will find them -- at all costs -- so they best leave you alone. Sorta like my threats on the school bus back in 1988...I mean business.
-- luludilly
Scenes from the Road
1. sporting Aerostich t-shirt
2. and we think Duluth has pothole problems
3. a camp set-up early on
4. can you imagine "laying down" one of those bikes?
5. just another ride along the ocean at dusk
-- luludilly
The pictures are here!
We'll have to rely on Woody and Richard to tell us about these pictures. Wood's bike still fully loaded and clean. I suspect this is one of the first border crossings.
-- luludilly
3/31/9 Fuel Pump and Stories I Forgot
I forgot to share these entertaining anecdotes before I got to the current day. Track back. Remember that Woody got a Honda fuel pump in the interim (while the replacements were somewhere en route). And if you're a gear head or monkey wrench kind of reader, you're going to really appreciate these details and creative fixes:
"while in monteverde we ran into 3 out of 5 guys from washington state whom are traveling on motorcycles as well. we first met this group in san jose a couple weeks ago. they are an interesting conglomeration and i am not sure how they have made it so far without killing one another, or at least separating. they started out january 30th with five guys ranging from 21 to 26. in mexico, the first of them cashed in and sold his bike to jarko, the fin. in mexico, jarko was a stranger. he has been riding with the original 4 ever since. also while in mexico, the new 5 met a 50 something man on a ktm adventurer traveling solo. this guy has ridden with them since as well, more entertained than anything, from what i understand. there are 4 kawasaki klr's and jarko is on a 600something suzuki something. so the 3 who were in monteverde, had met the owner of a hostel there, and this guy is a motorcycle enthusiast, along with his family and his friend. anyhow, we ended up leaving monteverde a day after they had, headed for playa samara, on the nicoya peninsula, to meet up with them for a couple days. playa samara is a smallish, relatively laid-back, surfing town. lots of tourists, of course. so we spent a couple of nights there, camping cheaply and walking the beaches. last wednesday it was, rachael and i went for a ride north up the coast, looking for something new. the roads were all dirt and fairly rough. it was a good ride, but hot. nosara is about 25 kilometers, or 45 minutes, from samara.
on the way back we were literally 100 yards from the tent when the fuel pump burned up. i took it out and it was really hot. this was the first time that i had really seen the pump the ktm mechanic had put in. it didn't have points like the old one, but it was fully electric. the "greenboard" was literally burned right up. i had had a few problems with minor flooding under certain circumstances, but otherwise it had been very good and i thought it would go for a long time. there was not fixing this for me. however, i had my old fuel pump with, and i went to work on it. i put it away that night at midnight, with some success. the material of the actual "points", of which i am not sure exactly what the material is, was completely gone on the bottom, leaving only metal, top had a touch left. the more time i spent on this pump, the more ridiculous the design appeared. basically because the the points were gone, the position of the loading spring was changed just enough so that it could not reset itself, thus causing the plunger to over rebound and "lock" the spring. if that makes sense. so i did what anyone would have done. i used my $18 butane soldering pen i bought from radio shack, and i soldered a "shim" onto the bottom plate where the point once was. then i zip-tied around the pump, the plate holding the new point, and the plunger, thus creating a "stop" for the plunger so that it could no longer over-rebound and lock out the spring. and it worked. it was good fun problem-solving this. so because of the zip-tie, the pump was no longer very waterproof. we headed out thursday morning for nosara, and further north to ostional, on the "backroad" where supposedly there would be no water crossings to potentially damage the pump. it was hot, steep, and rough, with little traffic. we drove for a good 3 hours with no problems, and i think that we were about 8 kilometers from nosara when the pump fried. i think it was because of the zip-tie. i didn't think about it at the time, because i was so excited that it was working, but the plunger was having to push against the zip-tie, which gives a little, causing the pump to strain. had i been able to fabricate a solid "stop", i may have gotten further. but the pump was fried. we (rachael, richard, me) were in the woods.
begin the good times. our first attempt at towing came last summer, when i ran out of gas by the state garage while practicing at the motorcycle test course with duane. we towed into super america with relatively little sweat, granted there was nothing on either of our bikes. now we are both loaded, and i with a passenger as well, on rough dirt roads with hills and big rocks. it took us close to 3 hours to make the 8 kilometers. richard tipped 5 times, all on hills, and we crossed 3 rivers. it was a blast. we made it to "playa guiones" just before the sun went down. while checking out for camp areas (and there were many, as there are no houses on the beach and no town nearby), we met "chainsaw". real name "ryan", from mission beach, san diego--he has been living in costa rica for a couple years, working on his tourism website business. he has long hair and an interestingly manicured beard, which was definitely not done with a chainsaw. he drives a 1971 toyota landcruiser, and lives in a house in the actual town of nosara, where there are no tourists. he immediately invited us to stay at his place, opening everything up to us. we towed into a secure place and rested. this guy chainsaw is strange in a different way. he started out in the screen printing industry as a teenager, building up fast and developing a name in california. he explained it all to us in pieces, which have been difficult to piece together. he and his business partner went to high school together, where they became known as the "regulators", as they "ran" some things. they had a few t-shirts printed with their name and logo. shortly after, with dozens of requests for t-shirts, the "regulator" name and brand went into the screen printing business (the logo is a skull with dreadlocks). this clothing company has since been put onto the "shelf", as "chainsaw", (he uses the 3rd person sometimes), refused to go big into the surf shops with his line, opting instead to keep it small and special. in fact, the only way you can buy from them is to meet one of "them", or someone who has, and get a password number to use on their website to order their clothing. we, of course, are going to be given the code, as we have befriended chainsaw. so this happened on thursday night.
rachael and i stayed at chainsaw's another night, then he turned us onto a friend who was moving into a house up the coast, in ostional. the "house" his friend is moving into is something special. wide open kitchen with concrete bar and countertop, artistically tiled bathroom, and two sleeping lofts. the entire bottom is open to the air, on a hill, overlooking the tiny town of ostional and the pacific ocean. his friend is paying $170 a month for this place. we slept on the beach and then stayed at the house the next night. yesterday, monday, we took the bus for 7 hours into san jose. it was a coach, and actually a rather enjoyable trip…richard is hopefully picking up the package as i am writing this, and tomorrow i will take a bus back to chainsaw's, and get the bike ready to drive."
And that is exactly what he did.
-- luludilly
"while in monteverde we ran into 3 out of 5 guys from washington state whom are traveling on motorcycles as well. we first met this group in san jose a couple weeks ago. they are an interesting conglomeration and i am not sure how they have made it so far without killing one another, or at least separating. they started out january 30th with five guys ranging from 21 to 26. in mexico, the first of them cashed in and sold his bike to jarko, the fin. in mexico, jarko was a stranger. he has been riding with the original 4 ever since. also while in mexico, the new 5 met a 50 something man on a ktm adventurer traveling solo. this guy has ridden with them since as well, more entertained than anything, from what i understand. there are 4 kawasaki klr's and jarko is on a 600something suzuki something. so the 3 who were in monteverde, had met the owner of a hostel there, and this guy is a motorcycle enthusiast, along with his family and his friend. anyhow, we ended up leaving monteverde a day after they had, headed for playa samara, on the nicoya peninsula, to meet up with them for a couple days. playa samara is a smallish, relatively laid-back, surfing town. lots of tourists, of course. so we spent a couple of nights there, camping cheaply and walking the beaches. last wednesday it was, rachael and i went for a ride north up the coast, looking for something new. the roads were all dirt and fairly rough. it was a good ride, but hot. nosara is about 25 kilometers, or 45 minutes, from samara.
on the way back we were literally 100 yards from the tent when the fuel pump burned up. i took it out and it was really hot. this was the first time that i had really seen the pump the ktm mechanic had put in. it didn't have points like the old one, but it was fully electric. the "greenboard" was literally burned right up. i had had a few problems with minor flooding under certain circumstances, but otherwise it had been very good and i thought it would go for a long time. there was not fixing this for me. however, i had my old fuel pump with, and i went to work on it. i put it away that night at midnight, with some success. the material of the actual "points", of which i am not sure exactly what the material is, was completely gone on the bottom, leaving only metal, top had a touch left. the more time i spent on this pump, the more ridiculous the design appeared. basically because the the points were gone, the position of the loading spring was changed just enough so that it could not reset itself, thus causing the plunger to over rebound and "lock" the spring. if that makes sense. so i did what anyone would have done. i used my $18 butane soldering pen i bought from radio shack, and i soldered a "shim" onto the bottom plate where the point once was. then i zip-tied around the pump, the plate holding the new point, and the plunger, thus creating a "stop" for the plunger so that it could no longer over-rebound and lock out the spring. and it worked. it was good fun problem-solving this. so because of the zip-tie, the pump was no longer very waterproof. we headed out thursday morning for nosara, and further north to ostional, on the "backroad" where supposedly there would be no water crossings to potentially damage the pump. it was hot, steep, and rough, with little traffic. we drove for a good 3 hours with no problems, and i think that we were about 8 kilometers from nosara when the pump fried. i think it was because of the zip-tie. i didn't think about it at the time, because i was so excited that it was working, but the plunger was having to push against the zip-tie, which gives a little, causing the pump to strain. had i been able to fabricate a solid "stop", i may have gotten further. but the pump was fried. we (rachael, richard, me) were in the woods.
begin the good times. our first attempt at towing came last summer, when i ran out of gas by the state garage while practicing at the motorcycle test course with duane. we towed into super america with relatively little sweat, granted there was nothing on either of our bikes. now we are both loaded, and i with a passenger as well, on rough dirt roads with hills and big rocks. it took us close to 3 hours to make the 8 kilometers. richard tipped 5 times, all on hills, and we crossed 3 rivers. it was a blast. we made it to "playa guiones" just before the sun went down. while checking out for camp areas (and there were many, as there are no houses on the beach and no town nearby), we met "chainsaw". real name "ryan", from mission beach, san diego--he has been living in costa rica for a couple years, working on his tourism website business. he has long hair and an interestingly manicured beard, which was definitely not done with a chainsaw. he drives a 1971 toyota landcruiser, and lives in a house in the actual town of nosara, where there are no tourists. he immediately invited us to stay at his place, opening everything up to us. we towed into a secure place and rested. this guy chainsaw is strange in a different way. he started out in the screen printing industry as a teenager, building up fast and developing a name in california. he explained it all to us in pieces, which have been difficult to piece together. he and his business partner went to high school together, where they became known as the "regulators", as they "ran" some things. they had a few t-shirts printed with their name and logo. shortly after, with dozens of requests for t-shirts, the "regulator" name and brand went into the screen printing business (the logo is a skull with dreadlocks). this clothing company has since been put onto the "shelf", as "chainsaw", (he uses the 3rd person sometimes), refused to go big into the surf shops with his line, opting instead to keep it small and special. in fact, the only way you can buy from them is to meet one of "them", or someone who has, and get a password number to use on their website to order their clothing. we, of course, are going to be given the code, as we have befriended chainsaw. so this happened on thursday night.
rachael and i stayed at chainsaw's another night, then he turned us onto a friend who was moving into a house up the coast, in ostional. the "house" his friend is moving into is something special. wide open kitchen with concrete bar and countertop, artistically tiled bathroom, and two sleeping lofts. the entire bottom is open to the air, on a hill, overlooking the tiny town of ostional and the pacific ocean. his friend is paying $170 a month for this place. we slept on the beach and then stayed at the house the next night. yesterday, monday, we took the bus for 7 hours into san jose. it was a coach, and actually a rather enjoyable trip…richard is hopefully picking up the package as i am writing this, and tomorrow i will take a bus back to chainsaw's, and get the bike ready to drive."
And that is exactly what he did.
-- luludilly
4/16/9 To Colombia
Woody tried surfing (again). My recollection is that the last time he was going to do this in San Diego he was terrified of sharks and wouldn't get off the dry sand. But then, I like remembering my little brother when he isn't so brave, helps me stay in charge I guess. And so, that is it and Colombia it is:
"bocas del toro is a new and interesting place. i met a guy from northern california my first night here and spent yesterday traveling around some of the islands with him. i went snorkeling for the first time and i loved it. saw tons of fish and beautiful, amazing, crazy coral reef. i also tried surfing a bit, with little success. i paddled out, with some difficulty, then i looked up and realized that i had paddled further out than any of the other surfers in the sea. so i figured i should try to catch a wave to close some ground, but before i could even put my mind to it, one caught me and i flew into the beach, however, i never stood up, just surfed on my belly. it was good fun just being out there in the water, riding over and under the waves. until the board wax rubbed my nipples raw. they are very sore today.
i ran into the two bikers from oregon yesterday and i am going to ride with them from here to the boat. there is some confusion as well, as the boat is going to colombia. it is, in fact, difficult if not impossible to boat around colombia. i understand how you feel about colombia, but you have to understand that everything that you have heard, read, and seen, is not all that there is to the story of this country. i will not be traveling alone, either, but rather with 3 other bikers. milan is from panama and his parents live in colombia now, if that makes you feel any better. have some faith, and realize that adventure is moving through the unknown and being uncertain of the outcome. do not be afraid and do not freak out, as those things can only affect me negatively, and mindset is key to adventure--being clear headed and positive. i am headed tomorrow, with milan and andrew, towards panama city. unfortunately i do not think that i will have a chance to meet up with anders or the couple from minnesota. i spent too much time in monteverde getting ready for the plunge into south america, and now i have a boat to catch."
There really is no alternative, and whomever told me I could still be bossy from a distance was wrong. My influence is not as great from thousands of miles away, nor are my empty threats to make him sorry for disobedience. Oh, wait, I guess the efficacy of that threat was lost when he turned twelve and could beat me arm wrestling...how soon I forget.
-- luludilly
"bocas del toro is a new and interesting place. i met a guy from northern california my first night here and spent yesterday traveling around some of the islands with him. i went snorkeling for the first time and i loved it. saw tons of fish and beautiful, amazing, crazy coral reef. i also tried surfing a bit, with little success. i paddled out, with some difficulty, then i looked up and realized that i had paddled further out than any of the other surfers in the sea. so i figured i should try to catch a wave to close some ground, but before i could even put my mind to it, one caught me and i flew into the beach, however, i never stood up, just surfed on my belly. it was good fun just being out there in the water, riding over and under the waves. until the board wax rubbed my nipples raw. they are very sore today.
i ran into the two bikers from oregon yesterday and i am going to ride with them from here to the boat. there is some confusion as well, as the boat is going to colombia. it is, in fact, difficult if not impossible to boat around colombia. i understand how you feel about colombia, but you have to understand that everything that you have heard, read, and seen, is not all that there is to the story of this country. i will not be traveling alone, either, but rather with 3 other bikers. milan is from panama and his parents live in colombia now, if that makes you feel any better. have some faith, and realize that adventure is moving through the unknown and being uncertain of the outcome. do not be afraid and do not freak out, as those things can only affect me negatively, and mindset is key to adventure--being clear headed and positive. i am headed tomorrow, with milan and andrew, towards panama city. unfortunately i do not think that i will have a chance to meet up with anders or the couple from minnesota. i spent too much time in monteverde getting ready for the plunge into south america, and now i have a boat to catch."
There really is no alternative, and whomever told me I could still be bossy from a distance was wrong. My influence is not as great from thousands of miles away, nor are my empty threats to make him sorry for disobedience. Oh, wait, I guess the efficacy of that threat was lost when he turned twelve and could beat me arm wrestling...how soon I forget.
-- luludilly
3/14/9 The Route
There has been a lot of discussion about the dangers of this trip, not the parasites or the starvation on volcanoes, but the civil unrest, anti-American dangers. One thing that was "agreed" in advance was that under all circumstances, Woody would not enter Colombia. Whether it is rationale or true, it is the one country which provokes the most fear for the family.
As I finish getting our readers up to speed on the great adventure and start current time, I thought the background would be helpful in understanding how it is that Woody is now sailing to Colombia on a German sailboat with his motorcycle.
"i cannot know for sure until i get into panama and talk to the people there. i understand that colombia has this greatly terrible reputation. it is not very accurate, however. a few weeks ago i met an australian man on a motorcycle. he is on his way to alaska, on his own. he started in argentina over a year ago. now, based upon what he had to say, colombia is the greatest of the south american countries. he told me that if central america continued to disappoint him, he was going to turn around and head back to colombia. he traveled in and out of colombia for something like two months, seeing most all of it and crossing the borders many times. he said the people are try harder than anywhere else to help you out. they are overcompensating for their bad reputation. he said it would be crazy to skip it out of fear, as his experience was excellent. it is difficult to find shipping information when you are not near the ships. thus, i will have to wait until i get into panama to find out the options available. the australian gave me the name of a guy in panama who deals with most of the bikers coming through, and knows the captains and schedules. i plan on looking him up. literally every traveler i have met who has been to colombia speaks highly of it, and the first thing they say is that they were warned about going there. you will know when i know."
-- luludilly
As I finish getting our readers up to speed on the great adventure and start current time, I thought the background would be helpful in understanding how it is that Woody is now sailing to Colombia on a German sailboat with his motorcycle.
"i cannot know for sure until i get into panama and talk to the people there. i understand that colombia has this greatly terrible reputation. it is not very accurate, however. a few weeks ago i met an australian man on a motorcycle. he is on his way to alaska, on his own. he started in argentina over a year ago. now, based upon what he had to say, colombia is the greatest of the south american countries. he told me that if central america continued to disappoint him, he was going to turn around and head back to colombia. he traveled in and out of colombia for something like two months, seeing most all of it and crossing the borders many times. he said the people are try harder than anywhere else to help you out. they are overcompensating for their bad reputation. he said it would be crazy to skip it out of fear, as his experience was excellent. it is difficult to find shipping information when you are not near the ships. thus, i will have to wait until i get into panama to find out the options available. the australian gave me the name of a guy in panama who deals with most of the bikers coming through, and knows the captains and schedules. i plan on looking him up. literally every traveler i have met who has been to colombia speaks highly of it, and the first thing they say is that they were warned about going there. you will know when i know."
-- luludilly
2/26 to 3/14 Finding Rachael
Rich's sister Rachael was studying in Costa Rica this spring. The guys had been planning on visiting her somehow at some point. The original details are foggy to me, but it turned into one of those great romantic birthday surprises you might see on HBO...you know, the ridiculously unlikely way that things line up and work out against all odds.
"we are still on the island of ometepe, planning on leaving soon. actually we were planning on leaving today, but that has changed to monday. it is nice here, and very cheap to stay and eat. on monday we will take the ferry across the lake (10 hours, i hope i don't get seasick) to san carlos. from san carlos we have to try and fenangle our way onto a panga (very small boat) with our bikes so we can cross the river into costa rica. not sure if it is even possible, but we will give it shot, knowing full well that we may have to turn around."
"we made it to cano palma, biological station, on sunday, unannounced. the entire transport there worked so well and was so easy. rachael had told me the steps one had to take to reach the station. we were able to camp for free at a hotel the night before, about an hour from the boat to the station. the woman there was exceedingly nice. in the morning, at the hotel, we had 3 two-toed sloths in the tree above us. the ants ate my feet up, and my camp stove was spitting fuel at me. not a great night. when we arrived in pavona, where the boat was to leave from, we met ronald. he runs the car-park, as you can't easily get a vehicle down the river or up the canal. he spoke english well and was fully trustworthy. he introduced us to his father-in-law, don edgar, the owner of the vista mar hotel, across the canal from the station. by fate, he was waiting for some clients and offered to give us a ride, for free, to the station. the canal that we started on was narrow, with trees on either side, touching one another. thick jungle rain forest. dark, muddy water. the ride took about an hour. as we pulled up to the station, which was flooded from recent heavy rains, there were a couple of people in the look-out above the submerged docks. as we got close, not quite sure what to say, the girl sitting there broke the awkwardness with "hey, you're woody!"
it was more of an accusation than a statement. we landed and were greeted by those around, all of who knew who we were, and also that we were not supposed to be in costa rica yet...
we spent five days there at the station, participating in some of the surveys and events, as well as eating with the group and everything else. i saw some wildlife, including a large american crocodile and a few caymens, many colorful birds, iguanas, and some huge spiders and other scary bugs. it was a great time."
-- luludilly
"we are still on the island of ometepe, planning on leaving soon. actually we were planning on leaving today, but that has changed to monday. it is nice here, and very cheap to stay and eat. on monday we will take the ferry across the lake (10 hours, i hope i don't get seasick) to san carlos. from san carlos we have to try and fenangle our way onto a panga (very small boat) with our bikes so we can cross the river into costa rica. not sure if it is even possible, but we will give it shot, knowing full well that we may have to turn around."
"we made it to cano palma, biological station, on sunday, unannounced. the entire transport there worked so well and was so easy. rachael had told me the steps one had to take to reach the station. we were able to camp for free at a hotel the night before, about an hour from the boat to the station. the woman there was exceedingly nice. in the morning, at the hotel, we had 3 two-toed sloths in the tree above us. the ants ate my feet up, and my camp stove was spitting fuel at me. not a great night. when we arrived in pavona, where the boat was to leave from, we met ronald. he runs the car-park, as you can't easily get a vehicle down the river or up the canal. he spoke english well and was fully trustworthy. he introduced us to his father-in-law, don edgar, the owner of the vista mar hotel, across the canal from the station. by fate, he was waiting for some clients and offered to give us a ride, for free, to the station. the canal that we started on was narrow, with trees on either side, touching one another. thick jungle rain forest. dark, muddy water. the ride took about an hour. as we pulled up to the station, which was flooded from recent heavy rains, there were a couple of people in the look-out above the submerged docks. as we got close, not quite sure what to say, the girl sitting there broke the awkwardness with "hey, you're woody!"
it was more of an accusation than a statement. we landed and were greeted by those around, all of who knew who we were, and also that we were not supposed to be in costa rica yet...
we spent five days there at the station, participating in some of the surveys and events, as well as eating with the group and everything else. i saw some wildlife, including a large american crocodile and a few caymens, many colorful birds, iguanas, and some huge spiders and other scary bugs. it was a great time."
-- luludilly
2/24/9 Island of Ometepe
For all the preparation and common sense that the boys appear to have, one of my favorite stories thus far has been the poorly thought out volcano hike. Apparently, they are not quite ready to be world explorers. And for the moms out there, it is true, that you still get them through their darkest moments.
"we climbed to the top of a volcano yesterday. it took us 7 hours to complete the climb, up and down, that is. my i.t. band started to kill me again on the way down. it was pretty sore and swollen last night and today. i know that you used one of those foam rollers, and i tried that too (although i've no access at this point), but is there anything else that you did to help it? the volcano was definitely anticlimactic. there was no view from any point on the way up, and at the top it was cold and cloudy and wet. it was good, though, to do. the mud on the way down was treacherous. worse than minnesota red clay. so we climbed up one side and down a different side, ending at an old coffee plantation that has been converted into a funky, run-down hotel/restaurant. they made the most incredible french toast that i have ever had in my entire life.
oh yes, the stupidity of the two of us--we brought only 1 clif bar each, for the entire climb. we had plenty of water, but only one frickin clif bar. 2 hours from the top we were both starving. we talked about food for 4 hours; our favorites from home, from our moms, from our own creations. upon arrival at the coffee plantation, we ate, waited 3 hours, ate again. we had breakfast this morning. i think i had 5 orders of this french toast between the 3 meals.(it cost 1.50). amazing."
Oh the love of adventure. And the foolishness of boys. Big, calorie-burning boys.
-- luludilly
"we climbed to the top of a volcano yesterday. it took us 7 hours to complete the climb, up and down, that is. my i.t. band started to kill me again on the way down. it was pretty sore and swollen last night and today. i know that you used one of those foam rollers, and i tried that too (although i've no access at this point), but is there anything else that you did to help it? the volcano was definitely anticlimactic. there was no view from any point on the way up, and at the top it was cold and cloudy and wet. it was good, though, to do. the mud on the way down was treacherous. worse than minnesota red clay. so we climbed up one side and down a different side, ending at an old coffee plantation that has been converted into a funky, run-down hotel/restaurant. they made the most incredible french toast that i have ever had in my entire life.
oh yes, the stupidity of the two of us--we brought only 1 clif bar each, for the entire climb. we had plenty of water, but only one frickin clif bar. 2 hours from the top we were both starving. we talked about food for 4 hours; our favorites from home, from our moms, from our own creations. upon arrival at the coffee plantation, we ate, waited 3 hours, ate again. we had breakfast this morning. i think i had 5 orders of this french toast between the 3 meals.(it cost 1.50). amazing."
Oh the love of adventure. And the foolishness of boys. Big, calorie-burning boys.
-- luludilly
3/6/9 the fuel pumps - still waiting
On the 6th of March, Woody was trying to take a positive spin on the situation, waiting it out for the fuel pumps that I had ordered weeks before, but heard nothing of their status, and once I received them from Canada, would need to be shipped to Costa Rica for about $200, plus the duty tax on their hand. Woody kept me entertained with how he passed the time:
[on not having the pumps yet.]
"no problem, this is what it is all about. i was fortunate that the fuel pump died when and where it did, as opposed to on a lonely stretch of road somewhere, close to sundown. we are going out to look for a better hostel this morning, and then to try and run some errands around san jose. i have started carving, that is, woodcarving. it began on ometepe while we were spending a good portion of the days in a hammock. once i started, i didn't stop for two and a half days…"
[on stomach ailments and parasites.]
"from what i read, they [parasites] are sneaky. often times they are not detected in any medical tests, thereby going untreated for years. they have been known to live for 30 years! i also read that a large percentage of people, even in america, are hosts to parasites. something around 30 percent. crazy."
[on the local climate.]
"the picture of the grand marais harbor looks pretty cold. there is a part of me, however, that wouldn't mind walking down wisconsin street, bucking the wind on my way to a hot cup of something. a small part of me. san jose is at or around 1200 meters, so it is a bit cooler than i have grown accustomed to."
[on my creative solutions.]
"well it sounds like you are kind of getting into this motorcycle mindset after all. looking for alternate pumps for your bro, eh? cool. thanks. the new pump that is in my bike came from a honda--most likely it is identical to the pump in your car. it cost only $60, so is way cheap as well. also, the mechanic who found the pump and checked the pump to be sure that it would work (that the p.s.i. was close to the same, and the amperage draw was close as well), is, i believe, an extremely competent mechanic. so i feel good about the whole process. richard is a little nervous now, being that the new pumps are somewhere in ship land, mine just died, and his bike has more miles, which means more hours on the pump. my new pump is the only one in all of costa rica, from my understanding. so richard is out of luck at this point, completely. he may either be riding with me, or i will be towing him. i sent xxxxx an email this afternoon, but alas, today is friday, so maybe i will not hear from him until monday, if he has his act together. we will be alright."
-- luludilly
[on not having the pumps yet.]
"no problem, this is what it is all about. i was fortunate that the fuel pump died when and where it did, as opposed to on a lonely stretch of road somewhere, close to sundown. we are going out to look for a better hostel this morning, and then to try and run some errands around san jose. i have started carving, that is, woodcarving. it began on ometepe while we were spending a good portion of the days in a hammock. once i started, i didn't stop for two and a half days…"
[on stomach ailments and parasites.]
"from what i read, they [parasites] are sneaky. often times they are not detected in any medical tests, thereby going untreated for years. they have been known to live for 30 years! i also read that a large percentage of people, even in america, are hosts to parasites. something around 30 percent. crazy."
[on the local climate.]
"the picture of the grand marais harbor looks pretty cold. there is a part of me, however, that wouldn't mind walking down wisconsin street, bucking the wind on my way to a hot cup of something. a small part of me. san jose is at or around 1200 meters, so it is a bit cooler than i have grown accustomed to."
[on my creative solutions.]
"well it sounds like you are kind of getting into this motorcycle mindset after all. looking for alternate pumps for your bro, eh? cool. thanks. the new pump that is in my bike came from a honda--most likely it is identical to the pump in your car. it cost only $60, so is way cheap as well. also, the mechanic who found the pump and checked the pump to be sure that it would work (that the p.s.i. was close to the same, and the amperage draw was close as well), is, i believe, an extremely competent mechanic. so i feel good about the whole process. richard is a little nervous now, being that the new pumps are somewhere in ship land, mine just died, and his bike has more miles, which means more hours on the pump. my new pump is the only one in all of costa rica, from my understanding. so richard is out of luck at this point, completely. he may either be riding with me, or i will be towing him. i sent xxxxx an email this afternoon, but alas, today is friday, so maybe i will not hear from him until monday, if he has his act together. we will be alright."
-- luludilly
3/5/9 San Pedro, Costa Rica
The pump concern eventually became a crisis, complete with stories of bribery, deceit, being stuck in their least favorite country, in a disco club hostel, feeling the youthful crunch of drug searches, and oh yeah, two white boys on a bike, as Woody provides a colorful picture for us:
"hey, its me again. so have those fuel pumps showed up yet or what? today we took our bikes to the ktm dealer here in san jose to have the radiators flushed. when they were all done and put it back together, it wouldn’t run. the fuel pump decided to die on the spot. this is a real bummer. fortunately, the mechanic is good and all of the guys at the shop are very helpful. my bike is there, safe and sound, waiting for a new fuel pump. tomorrow these guys are going to search all the motorcycle shops and parts stores in the city for a temporary pump. i believe that we will be able to come up with something that will work. fuel pumps are relatively universal, as long as the pressure is close, we should be able to make her run. so when you can, please send the new pumps. i talked with the santos, the owner of the shop, and he said that there should be no problem shipping to his shop, as long as it is DHL. i am not sure how long it will take, but i would guess somewhere around 2 weeks. maybe there is faster shipping for a bit more money? if so, i say go for it. costa rica kind of sucks. it is nothing like the rest of central america. i am sitting at a computer at this hostal, it has a swimming pool, a bar, a restaurant, and a dance floor. like a club dance floor. it really sucks. we stayed here last night because it was cheap, and close to the ktm dealer, and because we were only going to stay for one night. and here we are, again. there is a kid who works here, however, who has a ktm, speaks english pretty well, and seems to have some connections in this city.
wow. 3 hours ago i started writing to you, at which point, 20 police officers entered the hostel and demanded everyone’s passports. they have been going through all the rooms with a dog, looking for drugs. they have not been to our room yet, and they will not find anything, unless, of course, they decide to plant something. wouldn't that be just great. as i was saying, costa rica really sucks and if i never come back here again, i will be happy.
tonight richard and i rode through san jose on his bike. the two of us, morons that we are, navigating through third world traffic in the dark, me holding onto the gps and shouting directions and richard laughing hysterically each time he stopped quickly and i slammed into his back. comical. wish someone who knew us, could have seen us. we are supposed to be waiting in our rooms for the police to come with the dogs, but after 2 hours we have moved into the computer room. our connection here, his name is mauricio, has gotten us a private room in the basement, where it is quiet, for the price of a dorm bed. he also got us free parking for the bikes, or bike, as it were. well being that i am going to have some time on my hands tomorrow, i will write to you soon enough. keep me posted."
-- luludilly
"hey, its me again. so have those fuel pumps showed up yet or what? today we took our bikes to the ktm dealer here in san jose to have the radiators flushed. when they were all done and put it back together, it wouldn’t run. the fuel pump decided to die on the spot. this is a real bummer. fortunately, the mechanic is good and all of the guys at the shop are very helpful. my bike is there, safe and sound, waiting for a new fuel pump. tomorrow these guys are going to search all the motorcycle shops and parts stores in the city for a temporary pump. i believe that we will be able to come up with something that will work. fuel pumps are relatively universal, as long as the pressure is close, we should be able to make her run. so when you can, please send the new pumps. i talked with the santos, the owner of the shop, and he said that there should be no problem shipping to his shop, as long as it is DHL. i am not sure how long it will take, but i would guess somewhere around 2 weeks. maybe there is faster shipping for a bit more money? if so, i say go for it. costa rica kind of sucks. it is nothing like the rest of central america. i am sitting at a computer at this hostal, it has a swimming pool, a bar, a restaurant, and a dance floor. like a club dance floor. it really sucks. we stayed here last night because it was cheap, and close to the ktm dealer, and because we were only going to stay for one night. and here we are, again. there is a kid who works here, however, who has a ktm, speaks english pretty well, and seems to have some connections in this city.
wow. 3 hours ago i started writing to you, at which point, 20 police officers entered the hostel and demanded everyone’s passports. they have been going through all the rooms with a dog, looking for drugs. they have not been to our room yet, and they will not find anything, unless, of course, they decide to plant something. wouldn't that be just great. as i was saying, costa rica really sucks and if i never come back here again, i will be happy.
tonight richard and i rode through san jose on his bike. the two of us, morons that we are, navigating through third world traffic in the dark, me holding onto the gps and shouting directions and richard laughing hysterically each time he stopped quickly and i slammed into his back. comical. wish someone who knew us, could have seen us. we are supposed to be waiting in our rooms for the police to come with the dogs, but after 2 hours we have moved into the computer room. our connection here, his name is mauricio, has gotten us a private room in the basement, where it is quiet, for the price of a dorm bed. he also got us free parking for the bikes, or bike, as it were. well being that i am going to have some time on my hands tomorrow, i will write to you soon enough. keep me posted."
-- luludilly
2/11/9 Danli, El Paraiso, Honduras
Woody and Rich studied up on their mechanical repairs in preparing for this trip. I suspect that they practically took their bikes apart completely more than once. They had fabulous guidance from some of the best local resources, who continue to give advice from afar. The major mechanical failure thus far has been having to replace worn out fuel pumps. Accessing replacement parts is something they don't have control over, unfortunately. The fuel pump saga went on for a month, or close, and involved many days of correspondence, me giving my credit card number to a stranger on a cell phone somewhere in Canada, waiting and waiting and waiting. It started simply enough -- with fear that they might run into difficulties in the future, as parts wear out after thousands of miles on rough roads.
"we are holed up in a town called danli, about 30km from nicaragua. we will cross later today. we spent that last 3 days in san pedro sula, honduras. i was told that san pedro was not a place worth checking out--maybe from a tourist viewpoint it is not, but it turned out to be a nice stop. Our first day we located motorcycle shops, (we both needed rear brake pads, and an oil change was close enough to be done as well), of course they were all closed until monday. the only ktm dealer in the country had 5 bikes on display, no parts, no accessories of any kind.
we were directed to a mechanic by the name of xxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx--an american married to a honduran. he and his family raced motocross. he pointed us to some shops and also told us that if we were unable to find the brake pads, he could have them sent to a nearby town to be re-done. so i spent the next day stripping the bike down, changing the air filter, checking for loose bolts (after the 100 plus kilometers of washboard, potholes, river beds). i took the fuel pump out to file the points and was a bit discouraged by their appearance. they are worn way down and i am not sure how long they will last. hopefully to costa rica…
that first night we met marcos, a happy honduran in his thirties. he told about his church and said that he would pick us up sunday night to take us there. it was an experience. A celebration of sorts, nothing like churches at home. on monday morning we found brake pads and 15w50 synthetic oil. the shop, vrc motorsports, let us do the work in place, using their tools. very nice.
while there, we met matamoros--a very excited honduran. he has a ktm adventurer and wanted to ride with us. with the work on the bikes done, we left san pedro yesterday morning. at 8:27 am (3 minutes early), matamoros showed up on his adventurer, along with two friends also on ktm´s--another adventurer and a superduke(the sportbike). they rode with us for 2 hours or so, took us out to lunch at a fancy restaurant and made sure that we were planning on returning to san pedro. their homes are open for us upon our return. it was an interesting experience--our first with wealthy folks. the gap between the rich and poor is huge in honduras. they were nice guys--a bit much bravado and machismo, though. riding with them, i felt as though we were looked at differently--alone, we are on big dirty bikes loaded down with a pile of stuff. with them (their bikes were immaculately clean) and their fancy riding suits, it was different."
-- luludilly
"we are holed up in a town called danli, about 30km from nicaragua. we will cross later today. we spent that last 3 days in san pedro sula, honduras. i was told that san pedro was not a place worth checking out--maybe from a tourist viewpoint it is not, but it turned out to be a nice stop. Our first day we located motorcycle shops, (we both needed rear brake pads, and an oil change was close enough to be done as well), of course they were all closed until monday. the only ktm dealer in the country had 5 bikes on display, no parts, no accessories of any kind.
we were directed to a mechanic by the name of xxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx--an american married to a honduran. he and his family raced motocross. he pointed us to some shops and also told us that if we were unable to find the brake pads, he could have them sent to a nearby town to be re-done. so i spent the next day stripping the bike down, changing the air filter, checking for loose bolts (after the 100 plus kilometers of washboard, potholes, river beds). i took the fuel pump out to file the points and was a bit discouraged by their appearance. they are worn way down and i am not sure how long they will last. hopefully to costa rica…
that first night we met marcos, a happy honduran in his thirties. he told about his church and said that he would pick us up sunday night to take us there. it was an experience. A celebration of sorts, nothing like churches at home. on monday morning we found brake pads and 15w50 synthetic oil. the shop, vrc motorsports, let us do the work in place, using their tools. very nice.
while there, we met matamoros--a very excited honduran. he has a ktm adventurer and wanted to ride with us. with the work on the bikes done, we left san pedro yesterday morning. at 8:27 am (3 minutes early), matamoros showed up on his adventurer, along with two friends also on ktm´s--another adventurer and a superduke(the sportbike). they rode with us for 2 hours or so, took us out to lunch at a fancy restaurant and made sure that we were planning on returning to san pedro. their homes are open for us upon our return. it was an interesting experience--our first with wealthy folks. the gap between the rich and poor is huge in honduras. they were nice guys--a bit much bravado and machismo, though. riding with them, i felt as though we were looked at differently--alone, we are on big dirty bikes loaded down with a pile of stuff. with them (their bikes were immaculately clean) and their fancy riding suits, it was different."
-- luludilly
15 April 2009
Granada - Melting Pot 2/14/9
Usually I envy my brother...I swear that I was really a straight-shooting kid, and yet, I'm the one here in a traditional routine with responsibilities and people counting on me. Some days when I read his stories and see his latitude and longitude I really want to box his ears. But then, I realize, you only get one brother, if that, and hell, I'm lucky he's out there living like there's no tomorrow. Can you imagine my complaints if I had an accountant for a brother? (No offense intended.) Of course, we both have our soapboxes, and Woody's experiences are interesting. His comments on the tourism and privilege strike a chord. I have to remind him that most people don't have the luxury of the motorcycle habit.
"yeah granada is definitely a place to see--and i am sure that you will find my complaint ridiculous and out of place--but it is so hot here! hot like hot. hot like standing i was totally drenched in sweat at 9 am. i got too much sun yesterday on the ride here, and today, on top of something i ate, i´m not feeling too great. it will pass. so will the heat. the other problem here, is the number of tourists. white skin everywhere, and the feel of resentment and desperation in the eyes of some darker skinned folks. it is too bad. the question, "why are we here?” as in here, in granada, as foreigners--came into my head today. because it is not our country. because it is not yet as plasticized, commercialized, or dramatized as our own land is. but, with this in mind, this place just as every other place viewed through the eyes of developed westerners, is on its way. because that is what these tourists want anyway. the same thing they left behind in their own "developed" countries, they want to find here, at their fingertips. hard to understand. so as granada appears to be beautiful and enchanting, it is, in my mind, simply a vacation destination. this is admittedly a gross generalization, having spent 19 hours here at time of writing, and undoubtedly the true beauty lies behind the gates in the hidden courtyards, buried in the life-histories of the people here. undoubtedly. but it is too hot for me to hang around and find a way to get invited into the courtyard."
And then, back with the humor and frivolity:
"in other news, my arms have taken on a neopolitan theme, going from brown, to red, to white. yes, i know, the sun is more powerful here, closer to the equator...
well alright XXXXX, i gotta go find some ice water."
Oh yes, my brother, can't you tell he's the survivor of a tourist town? That bitter resentment never evaporates completely, and the empathy, well he's spot on.
-- luludilly
"yeah granada is definitely a place to see--and i am sure that you will find my complaint ridiculous and out of place--but it is so hot here! hot like hot. hot like standing i was totally drenched in sweat at 9 am. i got too much sun yesterday on the ride here, and today, on top of something i ate, i´m not feeling too great. it will pass. so will the heat. the other problem here, is the number of tourists. white skin everywhere, and the feel of resentment and desperation in the eyes of some darker skinned folks. it is too bad. the question, "why are we here?” as in here, in granada, as foreigners--came into my head today. because it is not our country. because it is not yet as plasticized, commercialized, or dramatized as our own land is. but, with this in mind, this place just as every other place viewed through the eyes of developed westerners, is on its way. because that is what these tourists want anyway. the same thing they left behind in their own "developed" countries, they want to find here, at their fingertips. hard to understand. so as granada appears to be beautiful and enchanting, it is, in my mind, simply a vacation destination. this is admittedly a gross generalization, having spent 19 hours here at time of writing, and undoubtedly the true beauty lies behind the gates in the hidden courtyards, buried in the life-histories of the people here. undoubtedly. but it is too hot for me to hang around and find a way to get invited into the courtyard."
And then, back with the humor and frivolity:
"in other news, my arms have taken on a neopolitan theme, going from brown, to red, to white. yes, i know, the sun is more powerful here, closer to the equator...
well alright XXXXX, i gotta go find some ice water."
Oh yes, my brother, can't you tell he's the survivor of a tourist town? That bitter resentment never evaporates completely, and the empathy, well he's spot on.
-- luludilly
Nicaragua 2/19/9
We grew up on the shore of the largest freshwater lake in the world -- actually a few miles from shore. That is supposed to mean something, but mainly it has been an affliction. I am restless and claustrophobic unless I can see a wide open expanse of water. Mountain tops work okay for a while, but water is what I crave. Try living anywhere else and you shrivel up, or run into walls, cars, bad men, unfortunate situations...water is in our blood.
That's the curse of the great gitchie gumee. It haunts you. Whenever we have traveled, we seem drawn to large water spaces. I lived on the shore of the North Sea while studying abroad. Woody chose the big island of Hawaii as one of his winter stopovers. Despite being midwesterners, we are not land lovers by nature.
However, this does not mean that we have spent much time in that cursed lake. In fact, despite many discussions about why it would be a worthwhile endeavor, neither of us have driven around the lake nor have we traveled to the Susie Islands or to Isle Royale. I suppose this is one of those we-live-here-so-we-don't-do-the-tourist-things. There is a lot of that in our small town. I went to our historical society once in fourth grade. It was fascinating. I have never been back. We went moose hunting on the moose viewing trail when our cousins visited in 1995 --- no need to go when you live there. So, the lake: we should be familiar, but frankly, we don't know much about it. Maybe if we hadn't given up family vacations when Woody finished high school...
This kind of delinquency in our home culturing causes awkward situations and inconveniences out in the big world. Take this, for example, from Woody:
"we have crossed safely into nicaragua, spending the night in esteli. today i think that we will ride northeast to the miraflor reserve. sounds like a good place to see. from there i do not know exactly. the island of ometepe, in lake nicaragua, is the largest lake island in the world, i think. that means that it is bigger than isle royale--would help me to discern had i ever been to isle royale. the island is actually two volcanoes joined by a lava flow. we can put our bikes on a ferry and head out there, which i think we will do when we get that far south."
And oh yeah, at some point on this journey, Woody decided we really ought to plan a brother-sister circumnavigation of Lake Superior by kayak. How's that for total disregard of my blanket prohibition on all family vacations until death?
-- luludilly
Boat Passage - 4/4/9
As with so many journeys, luck plays a big part of the story. For Wood and Rich it's been meeting the right people and using their common sense when they need to. Woody's goal of Tierra del Fuego stands strong, but to reach this destination, luck is required. A few Saturdays ago, it paid him a visit:
"i am back in monteverde today, up high in the cloudforest. i came back to track down a guy with a campstove that i wanted to buy. my stove has broken 3 times on this trip. it is now working only because JB Weld is holding the gasoline in. i am not confident in it any longer, and this guy, who was traveling on a motorcycle with 5 other guys from the northwest, is selling his bike and everything else. i bought the stove, which is a dragonfly like i used to have and got stolen, only the larger size, for $60. it is almost brand new, plus another fuel canister. i went for a ride with him and another of his crew, and found out that two of the guys are continuing south. they have booked passage for the 20th of april on a german sailboat out of the san blas islands. i have emailed the captain, and hopefully there is still room on the boat
so all is pretty well here. i am staying at "pension santa elena", and reading "the world according to garp" and his story, "the pension grillparzer", if you remember. funny stuff. this pension has a flaming italian named "ro" who has taken to calling me "tiny". this place has a good feel to it, though, and it is cheap, as i am camped out back. i will be here for another night, maybe two, then one or two in san jose before i head for the border at sixaola, on the Caribbean."
And a few moments later, the follow up:
"hey, while i was writing to you i got an email from the captain. there is room for me and bike on the 20th of april. that was so easy! tierra del fuego, here we come!"
Stay tuned as we find out if Woody meets Anders, the Hawleys or Rani.
-- luludilly
"i am back in monteverde today, up high in the cloudforest. i came back to track down a guy with a campstove that i wanted to buy. my stove has broken 3 times on this trip. it is now working only because JB Weld is holding the gasoline in. i am not confident in it any longer, and this guy, who was traveling on a motorcycle with 5 other guys from the northwest, is selling his bike and everything else. i bought the stove, which is a dragonfly like i used to have and got stolen, only the larger size, for $60. it is almost brand new, plus another fuel canister. i went for a ride with him and another of his crew, and found out that two of the guys are continuing south. they have booked passage for the 20th of april on a german sailboat out of the san blas islands. i have emailed the captain, and hopefully there is still room on the boat
so all is pretty well here. i am staying at "pension santa elena", and reading "the world according to garp" and his story, "the pension grillparzer", if you remember. funny stuff. this pension has a flaming italian named "ro" who has taken to calling me "tiny". this place has a good feel to it, though, and it is cheap, as i am camped out back. i will be here for another night, maybe two, then one or two in san jose before i head for the border at sixaola, on the Caribbean."
And a few moments later, the follow up:
"hey, while i was writing to you i got an email from the captain. there is room for me and bike on the 20th of april. that was so easy! tierra del fuego, here we come!"
Stay tuned as we find out if Woody meets Anders, the Hawleys or Rani.
-- luludilly
PANAMA!
I am jumping ahead to current events. At 7:30 last night, Woody sent a Spot message from Bocas del Toro, Panama.
I hope this link will work:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=9.3386,-82.2407&ie=UTF8&om=1&ll=9.346601,-82.242966&spn=0.020749,0.034246&t=p&z=15
You may have to cut and paste it until I figure out how to put a link in a post. Weird. Anyway, gorgeous, check out the pictures on the left side of the map. If you use the satellite image you can see streets and everything.
From here Woody will be catching a ride on a German sailboat (I believe the captain is German, I don't know the nationality of the actual vessel) around Columbia. Thank goodness for that. (There have been some significant threats of physical harm -- by mom to him -- if Woody disobeyed mom's request and went through Columbia...)
We are hoping he is going to connect up with some contacts in Panama (thanks, Thibodeaus!) before he departs. I'll have more tonight!
-- luludilly
I hope this link will work:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=9.3386,-82.2407&ie=UTF8&om=1&ll=9.346601,-82.242966&spn=0.020749,0.034246&t=p&z=15
You may have to cut and paste it until I figure out how to put a link in a post. Weird. Anyway, gorgeous, check out the pictures on the left side of the map. If you use the satellite image you can see streets and everything.
From here Woody will be catching a ride on a German sailboat (I believe the captain is German, I don't know the nationality of the actual vessel) around Columbia. Thank goodness for that. (There have been some significant threats of physical harm -- by mom to him -- if Woody disobeyed mom's request and went through Columbia...)
We are hoping he is going to connect up with some contacts in Panama (thanks, Thibodeaus!) before he departs. I'll have more tonight!
-- luludilly
11 April 2009
on a lighter note
Woody has a way of being really funny, even in foreign lands, with only minutes to spare on a borrowed computer or a pay by the minute internet cafe. And I don't even like jokes. Or humor. But then, this is the man who once told me to be quiet, he was teaching my dog how to eat (while on all fours, mouth to the bowl, chewing ProPlan with no shame.) One of my favorite Woody funnies came in response to my reminder of our pa's birthday. I thought I should help him since he seems to lack modern amenities and probably has no idea what day or even what month it is anymore, but apparently, he is more responsible than I give him credit for...the punch line of his email goes like this:
"thanks for the reminder, but i did not need it. i have had feb. 11th written on my hand for the last week. i wrote an email to pa today. honduras has been good--we went to a cool church and met some wealthy hondurans with ktms. i will tell more later, for now i am hot, hungry, and i have to go to the bathroom. love you."
oh, that Woody and his direct style of communication, and details --- that really? do we really need to know?
-- luludilly
Big Scare Pt II
About twelve hours later, the first help message came through. It actually shows the following: "Help. Entering situation with caution. If you receive no further messages, seek help. -Rich & Wood." The problem, of course, comes from failing to discuss what it means in advance. When do you seek help? When do you assume there will be no more messages? Also, when this button is pressed, the Spot tries sending the message every five minutes. So, our inboxes showed five "help" messages ending at 7:52 pm. Why did it stop? Was that a signal to seek the help?
Luckily for me, being in Ely I had no cell reception and was able to sleep through the night blissfully ignorant of the fear and panic spreading along the shore. The rest of the family: not quite so lucky.
Around 7 am on Saturday, I went into town and got the call from the patriarch. This is not good news. This is scary. Really scary. The sense of helplessness was overwhelming. The Spot did little but show us why we should be so afraid. There is no way to call and check, no one to drive by, no police for welfare checks, no...my little brother is deep in the jungle, thousands of miles from me and there is absolutely nothing that I can do to protect him. After all those years of guarding him on the school bus and keeping a hawk eye on the big kids in the gym, bailing him out of jail and talking him out of being evicted...there was nothing, nothing to do but wait.
Finally, at 11 am, Woody sends the following nonchalant, typical carefree and irritatingly casual about danger, email:
"hey guys--just checking in at this point to let you know that everything is good. we ended up on a bad road after dark last night--one of those things where we were in the middle and had to keep going, and turning around would have been just as long on just as bad a road. it was like driving on franks´ driveway (at its very worst) for 6 hours. on my map it showed the road as being secondary paved--and it also showed good-sized towns along the way. we are on our way towards san pedro sula, honduras, where we will try to buy 10w-50 synthetic oil for the bikes. they are getting close to needing a change. we also are going to need brake pads before too long here. we spent a couple days in la ceiba, on the coast of the Caribbean--sort of a dirty, untrustworthy town…i will write more soon, but i´ve got to get going here this morning. love you guys.
--wood
p.s. we pushed the ¨help¨ button last night because that is what it is there for...."
My brother...
At the time, I remember screaming, "hey guys?!" "just checking in?!" "i've got to get going here?!" What the efff?! What was he thinking the rest of us had been doing for the last 16 hours??? Eating bon bons and watching reality TV?
Luckily, his cohort was a little more responsive in addressing the significance of the event.
-- luludilly
Luckily for me, being in Ely I had no cell reception and was able to sleep through the night blissfully ignorant of the fear and panic spreading along the shore. The rest of the family: not quite so lucky.
Around 7 am on Saturday, I went into town and got the call from the patriarch. This is not good news. This is scary. Really scary. The sense of helplessness was overwhelming. The Spot did little but show us why we should be so afraid. There is no way to call and check, no one to drive by, no police for welfare checks, no...my little brother is deep in the jungle, thousands of miles from me and there is absolutely nothing that I can do to protect him. After all those years of guarding him on the school bus and keeping a hawk eye on the big kids in the gym, bailing him out of jail and talking him out of being evicted...there was nothing, nothing to do but wait.
Finally, at 11 am, Woody sends the following nonchalant, typical carefree and irritatingly casual about danger, email:
"hey guys--just checking in at this point to let you know that everything is good. we ended up on a bad road after dark last night--one of those things where we were in the middle and had to keep going, and turning around would have been just as long on just as bad a road. it was like driving on franks´ driveway (at its very worst) for 6 hours. on my map it showed the road as being secondary paved--and it also showed good-sized towns along the way. we are on our way towards san pedro sula, honduras, where we will try to buy 10w-50 synthetic oil for the bikes. they are getting close to needing a change. we also are going to need brake pads before too long here. we spent a couple days in la ceiba, on the coast of the Caribbean--sort of a dirty, untrustworthy town…i will write more soon, but i´ve got to get going here this morning. love you guys.
--wood
p.s. we pushed the ¨help¨ button last night because that is what it is there for...."
My brother...
At the time, I remember screaming, "hey guys?!" "just checking in?!" "i've got to get going here?!" What the efff?! What was he thinking the rest of us had been doing for the last 16 hours??? Eating bon bons and watching reality TV?
Luckily, his cohort was a little more responsive in addressing the significance of the event.
-- luludilly
The BIG Scare
So far I've been trying to get everyone up to speed and cover the stories of four months on a motorcycle since it took me this long to start the Motorcycle Habit. Everything appears to have been sunshine and roses. This is not exactly true. In the beginning of February, we all experienced our first scare of the trip.
The boys are equipped with a device called the Spot. Essentially this is a GPS personal tracking device that was set up before they left. It directly emails the immediate family on a nearly daily basis. There are three options on the device. The guys push one of the buttons depending on the circumstances. One says "OK All is well on Bike adventure Love to all - Rich & Wood." Also in the message is the latitude and longitude link so you can tell where they are and look at the satellite photos and topography. We get these so often that I hardly read the message; I just click the link, seethe with jealousy and go back to working ten hours a day, inside, during our seven month long winter, wonder where I went wrong...but who is complaining. After all I am the oldest and I have been acting 30 for over 30 years.
Another button on the Spot is the "unknown/caution" button. At least, that is what we all anticipated and believed it to be when they first departed. The idea behind the button is that it means they do not what lies ahead and it has the potential to be dangerous. The third button is the 911 button. We do not get messages from the 911. That button triggers a direct call to the local search and rescue, embassy, etc. who calls the family later. It is not a thought we like to entertain. But back to this second button...
I was in Ely and it was a Friday. I got this message from my little brother that evening, sent at 7:55 in the morning:
"xxxxx, soon the pictures will be there. i'm in a rush this morning, but tell the parents that the spot may not be working as we are heading for the jungle and it may all be canopy, therefore no clear shot to the satellites. we have met yet another motorcycle traveler, this time from oregon, on his own. nelson is his name. we are heading into what is called la mosquitia, a region in honduras which is still undeveloped, and they say it is the last of its kind in latin america. nelson is coming with us. okay, gotta go, love you, bye.
wood"
We do not know La Mosquitia. We do not know Nelson. Imagine that this is the last message you get. At first read, it did not scare me too much, but I was on edge, something seemed troubling even if it was only the blackberry brandy in my purse...
-- luludilly
The boys are equipped with a device called the Spot. Essentially this is a GPS personal tracking device that was set up before they left. It directly emails the immediate family on a nearly daily basis. There are three options on the device. The guys push one of the buttons depending on the circumstances. One says "OK All is well on Bike adventure Love to all - Rich & Wood." Also in the message is the latitude and longitude link so you can tell where they are and look at the satellite photos and topography. We get these so often that I hardly read the message; I just click the link, seethe with jealousy and go back to working ten hours a day, inside, during our seven month long winter, wonder where I went wrong...but who is complaining. After all I am the oldest and I have been acting 30 for over 30 years.
Another button on the Spot is the "unknown/caution" button. At least, that is what we all anticipated and believed it to be when they first departed. The idea behind the button is that it means they do not what lies ahead and it has the potential to be dangerous. The third button is the 911 button. We do not get messages from the 911. That button triggers a direct call to the local search and rescue, embassy, etc. who calls the family later. It is not a thought we like to entertain. But back to this second button...
I was in Ely and it was a Friday. I got this message from my little brother that evening, sent at 7:55 in the morning:
"xxxxx, soon the pictures will be there. i'm in a rush this morning, but tell the parents that the spot may not be working as we are heading for the jungle and it may all be canopy, therefore no clear shot to the satellites. we have met yet another motorcycle traveler, this time from oregon, on his own. nelson is his name. we are heading into what is called la mosquitia, a region in honduras which is still undeveloped, and they say it is the last of its kind in latin america. nelson is coming with us. okay, gotta go, love you, bye.
wood"
We do not know La Mosquitia. We do not know Nelson. Imagine that this is the last message you get. At first read, it did not scare me too much, but I was on edge, something seemed troubling even if it was only the blackberry brandy in my purse...
-- luludilly
Honduras 2/4/9
We only occasionally hear about the food and the beating the digestive tracts are taking. The boys did take a series of vaccines and I believe packed home remedies and necessary prescriptions but living on motorcycles has its downside, no matter what country you're in or what the water source is. I'll spare the details, but on the food, this comes from Woody in Guatemala:
"on the subject of food, it has been great. simple stuff--tortillas always, beans, rice, chicken, vegetables, fruit. it tastes similar everywhere we have been. good coffee is hard to find, surprisingly. and it is not cheap when you do. costs about the same as it does in minnesota, and you can only get it in a full-blown coffee shop. but it is delicious."
Along the way, as often happens, there have been struggles with traveling companions. At one point I got a message saying "and then there were two" -- after a break with another American. I look forward to hearing the story as it reminded me of a late night getaway I pulled myself once long ago...of course, that was with my best friend on the beaches of Tulum and the perpetrators were a trio of Greek jet setters/night club owners. Ahh, but that's another story for another time...for Woody it meant leaving the good people of Guatemala and crossing into Honduras:
"We crossed into honduras yesterday, so mom should be happy. we´re in copan ruinas today, leaving a litter later for the east coast and the city of la ceiba. from there, we may take a ferry to the island of utila, where brock is living. also, at the border yesterday, we met a couple from canada whom are moving here. they bought property outside of la ceiba, and although they won´t be there yet, they offered it (it is beach property) as a place for us to camp. for the third time and in the third country, we have met shre, from california, on a 650 suzuki v-strom. we will travel with him to la ceiba."
-- luludilly
"on the subject of food, it has been great. simple stuff--tortillas always, beans, rice, chicken, vegetables, fruit. it tastes similar everywhere we have been. good coffee is hard to find, surprisingly. and it is not cheap when you do. costs about the same as it does in minnesota, and you can only get it in a full-blown coffee shop. but it is delicious."
Along the way, as often happens, there have been struggles with traveling companions. At one point I got a message saying "and then there were two" -- after a break with another American. I look forward to hearing the story as it reminded me of a late night getaway I pulled myself once long ago...of course, that was with my best friend on the beaches of Tulum and the perpetrators were a trio of Greek jet setters/night club owners. Ahh, but that's another story for another time...for Woody it meant leaving the good people of Guatemala and crossing into Honduras:
"We crossed into honduras yesterday, so mom should be happy. we´re in copan ruinas today, leaving a litter later for the east coast and the city of la ceiba. from there, we may take a ferry to the island of utila, where brock is living. also, at the border yesterday, we met a couple from canada whom are moving here. they bought property outside of la ceiba, and although they won´t be there yet, they offered it (it is beach property) as a place for us to camp. for the third time and in the third country, we have met shre, from california, on a 650 suzuki v-strom. we will travel with him to la ceiba."
-- luludilly
Antigua 1/25/9
At some point the boys realized communication in a native language was a superior quality. Woods used to speak Spanish increasingly well as he upped his tequila levels. Since motorcycles prohibit the consumption of alcohol, we all wondered how he'd get by. Wisely they met up with some local instructors to hone the skills they would need in the coming weeks and months. In the course of their travels, they have been reminded of home in the characters they meet.
"we met some minnesotans today. they are from st. paul, and he (the son) lives right near wm. mitchell. small world. we are going to go meet them for a beer later tonight. talking with them, i realized that i have completely forgotten that it is winter in the northland. he (matt) will actually be in grand marais in two weeks. crazy. we´ve been in antigua, guatemala for the past two nights, and plan on staying here for another week. we signed up for spanish language school today, beginning tomorrow and running until friday. 4 hours of school a day, one-on-one instruction. plus we will be living with a family. Total immersion. my spanish has already gotten much better, and i am hoping that this boost will help a lot. in total, it will cost 160 U.S. dollars for the school and the in-house, including 3 meals a day. it´s cheap. earlier this afternoon we headed out of antigua for a place called ´earth lodge´, which is only 20 minutes away, up the slope. 12 or so years ago an american and a canadian, brianna and drew, moved here and started this place. sounded pretty cool--treehouses, cabanas, camping, little restaurant....we checked it out, but decided against it. too many white people. last night we met dora. she owns(?) a little restaurant a few doors down from where we have been staying, with great, cheap food. tonight will be our third meal there--anyway, we had an hour long conversation/language lesson with her. excellent people, these guatemalans. our time here has far surpassed our time in mexico. many factors, of course, but it is wonderful here nonetheless."
-- luludilly
"we met some minnesotans today. they are from st. paul, and he (the son) lives right near wm. mitchell. small world. we are going to go meet them for a beer later tonight. talking with them, i realized that i have completely forgotten that it is winter in the northland. he (matt) will actually be in grand marais in two weeks. crazy. we´ve been in antigua, guatemala for the past two nights, and plan on staying here for another week. we signed up for spanish language school today, beginning tomorrow and running until friday. 4 hours of school a day, one-on-one instruction. plus we will be living with a family. Total immersion. my spanish has already gotten much better, and i am hoping that this boost will help a lot. in total, it will cost 160 U.S. dollars for the school and the in-house, including 3 meals a day. it´s cheap. earlier this afternoon we headed out of antigua for a place called ´earth lodge´, which is only 20 minutes away, up the slope. 12 or so years ago an american and a canadian, brianna and drew, moved here and started this place. sounded pretty cool--treehouses, cabanas, camping, little restaurant....we checked it out, but decided against it. too many white people. last night we met dora. she owns(?) a little restaurant a few doors down from where we have been staying, with great, cheap food. tonight will be our third meal there--anyway, we had an hour long conversation/language lesson with her. excellent people, these guatemalans. our time here has far surpassed our time in mexico. many factors, of course, but it is wonderful here nonetheless."
-- luludilly
Good People of Guatemala 1/20/9
I believe the story Wood tells here is one of the first, personal and welcoming interactions they had on their journey south of the border. He can probably add more later, but I know that their time at Lake Atitlan was particularly good and heartwarming. From Woody:
"so indeed, we are in guatemala....we arrived last night, in the dark (not on purpose), to a city called solola. i tell you xxxxxx, god's hand has placed us here. indeed, traveling in guatemala, or anywhere, at night is not advisable. basically, the roads we traveled were not the same roads on the gps, therefore, the mileage was not the same either. we arrived in solola not knowing where we could stay. it is an old city, reminding me of a european city--cobbled, narrow streets, lots of people. the buildings are not european, of course. we checked 3 hotels. none of them had a courtyard for our bikes and we cannot leave them on the streets. at the fourth hotel we found laura, the matriarch of a wonderful family. alejandro, her grandson, speaks english pretty well. freddy, her son, is a machinist. both are motorcycle enthusiasts. we spent our first night eating and sharing stories from the road. i knew the moment i met laura that we had landed somewhere special. today we woke up to see lake atitlan, which is perhaps 1000 meters below the city. flanked by 3 volcanoes, it is incredible. people say that it is the most beautiful lake in the world. around the lake there are several cities, some of which have schools where one can spend a week working on spanish. we are going to look into this. we spent the day with freddy (the father), and benjamin (his younger son), traveling down to the lake to swim, fishing with freddy's friend (which we are going to eat in a few minutes). it was good. tell mom that the people of guatemala are wonderful; they say that yes, it can be dangerous, but it is not like what we perceive it to be. freddy, actually freddy's dad, (whom i saw running today!) is building a house. "
-- luludilly
"so indeed, we are in guatemala....we arrived last night, in the dark (not on purpose), to a city called solola. i tell you xxxxxx, god's hand has placed us here. indeed, traveling in guatemala, or anywhere, at night is not advisable. basically, the roads we traveled were not the same roads on the gps, therefore, the mileage was not the same either. we arrived in solola not knowing where we could stay. it is an old city, reminding me of a european city--cobbled, narrow streets, lots of people. the buildings are not european, of course. we checked 3 hotels. none of them had a courtyard for our bikes and we cannot leave them on the streets. at the fourth hotel we found laura, the matriarch of a wonderful family. alejandro, her grandson, speaks english pretty well. freddy, her son, is a machinist. both are motorcycle enthusiasts. we spent our first night eating and sharing stories from the road. i knew the moment i met laura that we had landed somewhere special. today we woke up to see lake atitlan, which is perhaps 1000 meters below the city. flanked by 3 volcanoes, it is incredible. people say that it is the most beautiful lake in the world. around the lake there are several cities, some of which have schools where one can spend a week working on spanish. we are going to look into this. we spent the day with freddy (the father), and benjamin (his younger son), traveling down to the lake to swim, fishing with freddy's friend (which we are going to eat in a few minutes). it was good. tell mom that the people of guatemala are wonderful; they say that yes, it can be dangerous, but it is not like what we perceive it to be. freddy, actually freddy's dad, (whom i saw running today!) is building a house. "
-- luludilly
Approaching Guatemala 1/17/9
Here is another note from Woody's earlier days of traveling: "We are quite a ways south now, almost on the Guatemalan border, in the town of Lacanja. It has been raining daily, off and on, for almost a week now. But all is going well despite. We haven’t been traveling too much in the rain, spending most of our time exploring. We spent 3 or 4 days at Palenque, and now in Lacanja, we are in a very small, very indigenous community. We are camping under a metal roof, on a concrete slab. Our host cooks meals for us. Our shower is the waterfall 50ft from our tent. This is Mayan land. The ancestors of these people built Palenque. They speak Spanish and Maya, which is what is spoken in the movie, Apocalypto. It often sounds angry. There is an American cyclist from California here as well. She is fluent, so has been able to help us a bit. We are planning on crossing into Guatemala on Monday, as long as it isn’t pouring rain."
-- luludilly
-- luludilly
09 April 2009
The Real Beginning
it was indeed the 28th of december, and both rich and i were past being ready to leave. we put the bikes, fully loaded, onto ege's beautiful little motorcycle trailer and Douglas started driving us south. we decided to stop at Schultz's house, in Clear Lake Iowa, when we were an hour away. it was about 3 hours until dark. we arrived at the Schultz's and, after brief conversation, we began loading and putting on every single layer of clothing that we had. we left just after dark. it was 36 degrees. prior to departure, richard said to me, "you know, this is probably not one of the smartest things that we have ever done." i cannot count how many times he has said that to me throughout our lives. i am not sure if at the time, he was saying it about leaving on motorcycles in 36 degrees, or about the entire trip. within an hour the temperature had dropped to 26 degrees. the next 8 hours were as close to outerspace as i have ever been, and indeed, it was not the smartest thing that i have ever done. we made it into kansas city at 2:30 a.m., wired and confused. that was the beginning.
woodrowguthrie
woodrowguthrie
08 April 2009
Reaching Mexico 1/9/9
I thought I would start by catching everyone up over the next week or so. Here are Woody's first comments from outside the U.S. border, nearly three months ago already:
we are somewhere southeast of the city of poza rica, camped right on the beach. this is the first internet cafe that we have been able to find. it has already been a grand adventure. the border crossing was surprisingly simple--we had to purchase a visa and that was all; no customs whatsoever. we still haven´t been stopped by the police, even though we see them all over the roads. the food has been delicious, and the leche de coco--coconut milk, is the best thing ever. my spanish is already getting better and i am able to hear it better as well. it is very fun to speak to people. our bikes do indeed draw a lot of attention; double-takes and stares we have become used to already. we have met some wonderful people in 3 days and i can only begin to imagine what else may be in store for us down the road. speaking of the roads--the condition has been pretty good for the most part, however there are some potholes which could swallow our bikes whole. the driving, on the other hand, is close to insane. no on follows any rules, they pass on hills, on corners, and in towns. they pass when there is oncoming traffic. it is a different kind of defensive driving. we are getting into the swing of it, being careful and smart. we drove through the city of tampico 2 days ago and that went from scary to fun as we quickly understood and followed the method. though i have never done it, i imagine short track racing to be similar.
-- luludilly
we are somewhere southeast of the city of poza rica, camped right on the beach. this is the first internet cafe that we have been able to find. it has already been a grand adventure. the border crossing was surprisingly simple--we had to purchase a visa and that was all; no customs whatsoever. we still haven´t been stopped by the police, even though we see them all over the roads. the food has been delicious, and the leche de coco--coconut milk, is the best thing ever. my spanish is already getting better and i am able to hear it better as well. it is very fun to speak to people. our bikes do indeed draw a lot of attention; double-takes and stares we have become used to already. we have met some wonderful people in 3 days and i can only begin to imagine what else may be in store for us down the road. speaking of the roads--the condition has been pretty good for the most part, however there are some potholes which could swallow our bikes whole. the driving, on the other hand, is close to insane. no on follows any rules, they pass on hills, on corners, and in towns. they pass when there is oncoming traffic. it is a different kind of defensive driving. we are getting into the swing of it, being careful and smart. we drove through the city of tampico 2 days ago and that went from scary to fun as we quickly understood and followed the method. though i have never done it, i imagine short track racing to be similar.
-- luludilly
llllllearning curves
I'm working on learning to boh-lahg oh so painfully slow...and apologize to everyone following along. This is a giant step for a girl like me. [image: Woody in North America days, on Eagle Mountain.]-- luludilly
the old days
Well, Woody is fine and safe but having operator difficulties with the intrepid Spot device -- technology could ruin the world. To keep us all in good spirits, I decided to share a story of days past. This dates back to December of 2003 when young Wood was foolish and naive. I was in school when I got a call from Woody, who had just experienced some civil injustice after sticking up for a friend in a bar fight, in his own words:
"The police were there, asked me what happened. Asked me to sit in the back of the police car so they could ask me questions. I waited for at least ten minutes, by my own free will, in the back of the car with no contact from any police officer. At this point I got upset because no one would talk to me. I banged on the window. Two cops got into the car and drove me to the
police station. I asked them why I was being taken to jail. They simply said, 'Because you were fighting and now you are not cooperating'...I also continually asked if I could make a phone call--to which they told me, 'It's not like the movies, you don't actually have the right to a phone call'...The guy at desk made some crack about my name--'Is your brother's name Pete Seeger?' Real fucking funny, asshole."
Oh, man I am laughing remembering this story (my response was even more ridiculous) -- yes, Woody sure has come a long way since then. And for the record, he defeated the city attorney and got all charges dropped, with merely a pocket constitution, the name of an old folk singer, and the will of a Norwegian monster.
-- luludilly
"The police were there, asked me what happened. Asked me to sit in the back of the police car so they could ask me questions. I waited for at least ten minutes, by my own free will, in the back of the car with no contact from any police officer. At this point I got upset because no one would talk to me. I banged on the window. Two cops got into the car and drove me to the
police station. I asked them why I was being taken to jail. They simply said, 'Because you were fighting and now you are not cooperating'...I also continually asked if I could make a phone call--to which they told me, 'It's not like the movies, you don't actually have the right to a phone call'...The guy at desk made some crack about my name--'Is your brother's name Pete Seeger?' Real fucking funny, asshole."
Oh, man I am laughing remembering this story (my response was even more ridiculous) -- yes, Woody sure has come a long way since then. And for the record, he defeated the city attorney and got all charges dropped, with merely a pocket constitution, the name of an old folk singer, and the will of a Norwegian monster.
-- luludilly
07 April 2009
The Start
Here it goes --- I finally got the blog running for Woodstock. It is time to start the blog of Woody's great adventures to Tierra del Fuego by KTM motorcycle. It began on Sunday, December 28, 2008, just two men and their bikes; the end date is unknown; the course is unknown; but the lessons are certain to last a lifetime.
He is on his own now, traveling somewhere into Panama, we hope, although suspiciously the Spot has not sent a signal since the third...today, I got my first Aerostich catalogue and realized that I am now officially a motorcycle junkie if not by my blood, then by my brother's.
This will serve as a simple and hopefully entertaining way of staying in touch with Woody, his progress south (and back north again), see photos and give him words of advice and support, remind him that the journey is worth the pain, but that nothing can ever surpass the North Shore for stoic beauty and quiet courage. Bless my little brother, the wandering soul with big dreams and the gumption to follow them.
He is on his own now, traveling somewhere into Panama, we hope, although suspiciously the Spot has not sent a signal since the third...today, I got my first Aerostich catalogue and realized that I am now officially a motorcycle junkie if not by my blood, then by my brother's.
This will serve as a simple and hopefully entertaining way of staying in touch with Woody, his progress south (and back north again), see photos and give him words of advice and support, remind him that the journey is worth the pain, but that nothing can ever surpass the North Shore for stoic beauty and quiet courage. Bless my little brother, the wandering soul with big dreams and the gumption to follow them.
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