Guatemalan Highlands

Jeremy crossed into Guatemala expecting a hectic process of hassling with people and long lines, including bribing the Guatemalan immigration to get his stamp of entry. Fortunately, it only cost him 20 pesos, there were no lines and it was rather painless. He rode into Guatemala with a nervous excitement and decided the first order of business in a new country is to try out the food. So Jeremy pulled up into a fly-infested restaurant and order the staple meal in Guatemala- chicken, with rice and beans. Delicious. And when the lady slammed down a large jar of pickled onions and jalepenos in front of him, he knew he was living a dream. And all of this before 8am! It was gonna be a great day. So riding out of the border town of Tecuman, Jeremy wasn't too sure what to expect of Guatemala. Actually, he expected worse roads and more hostile people than he experienced in Mexico. But the exact opposite occured. The roads are just as good as back in the States, and the people are much less intrusive. Still a lot of staring, but respectful at the same time. So, first night in Guatemala, Jeremy rolled into a town called Relu and decided to splurge on a hotel with a pool and jacuzzi. Well, for fifteen dollars you can't really expect a clean pool or a jacuzzi with hot water. Even in Guatemala. But at least he had a hot shower, and was able to watch some movie on TV with Sean Connery cutting off heads as a Muslim?? So life was good. Jeremy rested up and conserved his energy, cause he knew the next day was going to be a painful ride up into the mountains to the town of Xela, which sat at an elevation of 9000 feet. And he was right about it being painful, except that it was much worse than he expected. He hadn't seen mountains like this since New Mexico. And he remembered how they had stripped him of his Super Bicycle Stud status, changing him back into a mere mortal. He begged the Mountain God once again to have mercy, to allow the jelly in his legs to become pillars of petrified wood as they had once been. But the Mountain wouldn't listen. He just kept getting steeper with each stroke of the peddle. I'm almost there Jeremy kept thinking. Just around the next corner and it will be flat for the rest of the way into Xela. And so it went, up and up, bend after bend, higher and higher. For 4 hours Jeremy climbed until he began hallucinating, altitude sickness seeping in. Old Guatemalan ladies in bright-ornamented dresses looked like long-lost grandmothers from another lifetime. He knew he had seen them somewhere before. One of the graveyard markers on the side of the road had his name on it. He knew he had been here before. He was delirious and decided he couldn't do it anymore. After watching a couple other "professional bicyclists" hitch a ride up the mountain, Jeremy decided he would let down his ego and do the same. So he sat there on the side of the road with his thumb up, waiting for a ride from one of the many pickups passing by. After about ten minutes he began to regain his composure and realized that the Rooster had been relentless all the way up to this point. "You wussy!" the Rooster laughed, "Let's just keep going!" So Jeremy decided there was another way up the mountain. By pushing the Rooster up the steep sections and riding through what he could, they could make it by dark. So, walking and biking, walking and biking, they eventually found their way to the picturesque, moutain town of Xela. Relieved and half-dead; the crisp, cool mountain air and smell of fresh flowers reminded Jeremy why he put himself thru this torture. Sometimes you have to go through hell to get to heaven.