2-6-10 Boquete, Panama

I left Rivas and was still undecided as to where I would go for the evening, I was debating the Osa Peninsula or the little town of Gulfito which was rumored to have little to see or do but was a good days ride away.  The ride was easy, nobody out on the roads at all.  The only time I was slowed down was when one of the Delmonte pineapple tractors was chugging along down the road ahead of me.  There were thousands of acres of little pineapple sprouts growing in the fields that looked almost like aloe vera or large iris plants.

Storm clouds started brewing so I decided not to go to the peninsula as the best parts were dirt roads and the tread on my tires is getting somewhat low.  Upon seeing Golfito it was obvious that there was nothing to do so I thought I'd take advantage of the cloudy weather and make it to the Panama border which was rumored to be a pain to cross.

Within minutes of pulling under a huge overhang for customs the storm hit, nothing too extreme but enough to instantly saturate the air making for a rather uncomfortable hour of darting back and forth between random offices.  I paid off a local guy to run some papers for me and to get out of checking all my gear for customs as it was getting late in the day.

The rain didn't have a clean, refreshing smell at the border, just brought a foul stench out of the ground. Once inside Panama, however, the rain took on a good earthy smell, like black-eyed peas.  I rode to the town of David where I stopped at a little cart for some coconut milk and got directions to the town of Boquete.

I hit the outskirts of Boquete just as it was getting dark and could make out a few silhouetted peaks surrounding the town.  I noticed some car behind me was flashing its lights so I sped up a bit and the car did the same.  I rode past the little central park and decided to turn around to make another pass.  Upon pulling over the car that was behind me pulled over as well and I saw a gringo stick his head out, "You from Colorado?" he yelled.

Paul was from Seattle but has been living in Central America for a few years after meeting a girl in Guatemala.  The story goes as such... He was working as a firefighter in Seattle when he bought a motorcycle (the exact same model as mine) and started riding to South America.  While in Guatemala, though, he fell in love with a local girl.  He kept riding down to Panama but turned around to be with her. They're now married.

He offered to show me a good hostel that was only a few hundred yards away so I followed him.  I stayed on my bike while he ran inside to check for availability.  As I was waiting outside a wild-haired guy jogged over, "I'm a KLR rider!" he said in an Australian accent. (KLR's are a bike made by Kawasaki that are popular for the trip I'm doing)  And this is how I met Adam.  He's my age and started his adventure 8 months ago in the bottom of South America and is now working his way north.

There was room in the hostel so I dropped my gear and Paul, Adam and I went to a little bar next door where we swapped motorcycle stores for quite some time.  Adam had a rather harrowing experience crossing the Darien Gap, from Colombia to Panama.  He and a kiwi mate took an old boat hull and mounted both their motorcycles in the bottom.  The removed the rear wheels and ran their chains around an axel from a rear-wheel drive car.  The chains spun the axel which in turn spun a driveshaft which turned a prop sticking out the back of the boat.  They also ran some cooling pumps which tapped into the radiators of the bikes to keep them cool as they wouldn't be going fast enough to keep the engines from overheating.  This all seemed good in theory.  Two months of construction later and they set off.  They were plagued with problems, broken parts, salt water eating anything it touched and eventually a blown CDI unit due to it getting a little wet.  They lost power altogether and were adrift in a storm when they decided to drop their little anchor to steady themselves in the rough sea.  However, they literally dropped the anchor, chain and all to the bottom of the ocean.  The boat  then drifted until it smashed up on a reef next to an island where they were later rescued by the coast guard.  They ended up fixing things enough to limp up to Panama where Adam was now. In all their voyage took over a month but they made it.  Adam's bike is now in Panama City waiting for a variety of new parts before he pushes north.