The End

So there they were, Jeremy and The Rooster riding through Panama on the final leg of their journey. Not much was said between the two of them. Not much needed to be said. Jeremy's mind was too tired to be thinking about thinking anymore. And the poor 'ol Rooster was just rusting away, oblivious to his surroundings anymore. So they just rode down the one and only Interamerican highway, towards Panama city and the finish line. A rather uneventful and boring ride to say the least. But a quiet ride, where the road slowly slipped behind them, loosening the grip it had maintained on the Rooster's tires for the last six months. The final day proved to be one of the toughest- 140km, headwinds, terrible roads and hill after hill after hill. But they were not to be denied. Over the last hill they caught a glimpse of their final obstacle- The Bridge of the Americas. On the other side of this bridge was Panama City, their final destination. This was it. The last stand. One final climb across the river, where further upstream the Panama Canal worked its magic. However, as they neared the beginning of the bridge, a policeman blew his whistle and waved them over. After a frantic conversation in Spanish, in which Jeremy had no idea what was going on, he finally realized that the Panamanian police were not going to let him ride across the bridge. Why? Who knows. Even after offering to walk the bike across, the piggies still refused. So instead, Jeremy and the Rooster were escorted across the bridge into Panama City on the back of a police truck. And so that's how the trip ended. A Panamanian police escort across the finish line.

So, an adventure that began six months ago has now come to a close. Originally, the plan was for myself and Chad to do a 2-month road trip by car through Mexico. But that somehow evolved into the bike trip that was to be. We sustained a casualty up in Mexico when Chad was taken outa commission by the Puerta Vallarta nightlife. But hey, one outa two of us getting to Panama isn't that bad. For those who may think of doing a bike trip like this, I say just do it. It's been one of the most amazing, unbelievable, humbling experiences of my life. The situations you find yourself in, the characters you meet along the way and the intimacy with nature all add up to one thing - FUNFUNFUN! So, for everyone following our path, I hope this blog has been somewhat enjoyable to read. For the rated NC-17 version of this trip, you'll have to see me in person. For the rated R version, I will take Visa or Mastercard. And only after I speak to an attorney.
So in a couple days I fly back to Minneapolis. However, it will have to be without the Rooster. I'm hurting inside having to leave him here, but it can't be helped. In the spirit of the Godfather, sometimes you just have to axe one of the family for financial reasons. It's cruel, but hey - that's life.

THE END

p.s. If anyone wants to see the pics from this trip, just send an email to this address and let me know: henr0129@yahoo.com. I'll send out a mass email when I get them on the web. maybe in the next few months or so. cheers

Red Wine and Shark Meat

Am sitting at the border town between Costa Rica and Panama, but just wanted to say a little more about Costa Rica. When I came in here it was easy to see the difference between CR and the other central american countries. Instead of people living in metal and cardboard shacks, they were actually living in real houses. Instead of seeing 3 people riding on one bicycle, there were actually nice cars being driven around. That is, if they could get around the potholes that are big enough to swallow a small Toyota. But I gotta say it made riding thru a bit more boring. People hardly even noticed, or cared, that I was riding through town. So its been nice to be treated somewhat normal the last couple weeks instead of being the Gringo Freakboy On A Bicicleta. Anyways, down in the southern half of Costa Rica it has become too humid to hardly ride during the day. The humidity picks up so fast down here that it's been downpouring rain every night for the last five days.
So, the other night was one of the most memorable on this trip. Riding through some small town, I was expecting to find a hotel to crash at for the night. Of course, there were none. So I continued along into the jungle, not knowing if I would find a place or not. The next town was too far to get to before dark, and stupid me was out of water and food. As it got darker and darker, and the rainclouds moved in, I was not looking forward to camping in this jungle that surrounded me. But then I came across a small, broken sign that said B&B and turned down the dirtroad hoping for at least a little shelter from the rain. What I found was way more than I could have imagined. A wooden, open-windowed mansion with a natural swimming pool owned by a French couple in the middle of the Costa Rican jungle. Unbelievable. So what looked to be a miserable wet night in the forest dealing with the heat and mosquitos, turned into a night of wining and dining at this amazing place. I sat there all night drinking French wine, eating tasty shark and listening to jazz as the rain fell outside. Life is always best when it's unplanned.
So now, my thoughts have turned towards the last leg of this journey. With a plane ticket already purchased to fly back to Minneapolis on April 1st, I now am on some kind of time schedule. Jeremy doesn't know how he feels about that. But, due to this thing called a JOB, the trip must soon come to an end.

(Jeremy and The Rooster exit stage left, audience weeps)

Dear Jose...

Dear Jose,

I've been in your country, Costa Rica, now for about 10 days. I don't know. I forget. The beaches are beginning to blend together and I can't remember what time is anymore. Anyways, the thing is Jose, I thought Texas was the most southern state in America. But I was wrong. It looks like us Americans took over Costa Rica a long time ago. I can't tell if I'm in Jaco or in San Diego. But, all the same, I like it here. Incredible rainforests that don't end until they meet the sea, endless green hills that disappear into the clouds and the screech of the Macaw in the middle of the night. I spent a couple days in Jaco taking a break from the 150% humidity, then headed for Quepos where I wandered around a State Park looking for monkeys all day. I finally found some surrounded by a horde of humans armed with digital cameras. Actually, it was hard to tell who the real monkeys were. Instead of taking pictures of the little furry neanderthals, I was more astonished by the humans and their ability to be easily entertained by a couple monkeys. Strange creatures these humans. Anyways, I bounced down the coast some more to a place called Dominical and have been here for a few days embarrassing myself on a surfboard. This is a great little surfing town, even with it raining the last few days. Although, you definately need to watch your step in these parts. I think its the first time on my trip that I've had to keep an eye out for crabs hiding in my pack, or shared a shower with an iguana. Not to mention those beautiful ants. So, Jose, your country has done well in preserving the wildlife down here. I'll probably spend a few more days here in Dominical, partying with the architecture students on their Spring Break from Boulder, walking along rainy beaches at midnight after disco nights and embarrassing myself some more on the surfboard at sunset. It's been a blast but time is running out and I still have to get through Panama. So, Jose, I can't understand your Spanish dialect down here but it doesn't matter. I know what I need to know to make it to Panama City and the road beckons. But I'll be back some day for an extended period of time to do some more surfing if Dominical stays the way it is.

Adios,
Jeremy

Nicaragua

Nicaragua? Who goes to Nicaragau unless they want to get shot by a bunch of revolutionaries? Or killed by a hurricane? It seems times are a-changing down here and tourism is picking up big time. This country is destined to be the next Costa Rica and it's easy to see why. Incredible landscape, amazing people and not to tough on the wallet.
After staying in Leon for a few days to rest up and replace the rear rack on the Rooster, I headed south for Granada. Stayed one night on a lagoon that's as close to a National Park as I've seen since leaving the States. Actually, I decided to camp just outside the park as there was some guy running around with a shotgun. Not exactly sure what he was up to, could have been security. But I wasn't about to camp out in a place where there was a need for security, or shotguns.
Next morning, came into the capital of Managua which is urban sprawl times 1,000. Luckily, ran into a Nicaraguan who was on his daily bike ride to work, and he showed me the best way to get through the city. Nicaraguans really enjoy bicycling with you. I've had more conversations on my bike here than anywhere else. And there seems to be this misconception that, since I've biked from the States, I must be extremely rapido (fast). What else can explain all the kids who pull up behind me, pedaling as fast as their little legs will take them, then dart past with that little smirk on their faces. Gotta luv it.
So came into Granada and realized right away I was back in Gringo-ville. An amazing city that you can feel is growing by the second. One night, decided to go out for just ONE beer and somehow ended up on an all-night binge with some Nico-rich college kid who drove me around in his sportscar. Some latino bars, a couple discos, and a few house parties later I arrived back at the hotel at 5am after my one beer. Anyways, on my way outa the hotel (a couple days after my hang-over subsided) I planned on heading for the beach of San Juan Del Sur. But after talking to the guy at the desk, Abba, he told me that I needed to go to Ometepe Island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua. He said it was the perfect place to explore on bicycle.
So, all pumped up now after hearing him describe it, I headed for the island. Down the road aways, ran into a guy from San Francisco (Mateo) who was also doing a ride through Central America. We had some good conversation and a good brunch, then parted ways as he headed for San Juan and I went and hopped on the ferry to the island. Once I got to Ometepe, some French guy came up to me and asked if I was Jeremy from Minnesota who was doing a bike ride to Panama. What the..?? Now, let me just double-check here. I've never been to France. And I've never been to Nicaragua before, let alone this island. And when I added up the amount of French people I know with the amount that I've actually even met, somehow I came up with a negative number. So how the hell does this guy know me? Well, it seems Abba from Granada had emailed him to let him know I may show up, because the French guy (Jean-Michele) wanted to do a 3-day bike ride around the island also. Why not I decided.
So the next morning we took off. And I mean took off. Jean-Michele didn't just want to bike the island...he wanted to race around it. So now, after expecting a nice leisure ride for a few days, I found myself in the middle of my own Tour de France. Luckily, Jean-Michele pooped out once we hit some hills. But, to make matters worse, I failed to ask Abba if the roads were paved or not. If there's one thing I've learned on this trip, it's to NEVER, EVER assume anything. Of course, they weren't paved. So for the rest of the day, I put the Rooster through much more abuse than was required by bouncing over huge rocks, fish-tailing through deep sand, pressing through hard headwinds and pushing up steep hills. Decided to inform Jean-Michele he would have to keep going on his own cause my bike just couldn't handle this terrain. So we stayed one night at an organic farm then went our separate ways. Jean-Michele to explore the rest of the island, and myself to the beach to relax. Ometepe Island has a very special, magical feel that I was finally able to enjoy once off the bike. So will be leaving this island today and heading towards Costa Rica. Nicaragua has been much better than I anticipated and hopefully will be able to make it down here again before it becomes too touristy. Hasta manana....