I'm somewhere in between Panama and Colombia and I don't know where I am other than the vague idea somewhere in the caribbean ocean  and I love it. 

Leaving Panama was hard until I made it to the dock and borded the Stalhratte. Wake up in the morning thinking it's 6:20 and I have an hour to snooze before we should leave. Anders reminds me it's actually 7:30 and we should pack up. Shit the clock on my ipod is wrong. Get up and we're packed up ready to leave. First stop was the BMW dealership where my dear friend Olivier left some spares I had shipped to his girlfriend and since he decided to leave Panama on another ship he dropped them off there. I was a little bummed out that we wouldn't get to catch up on our time apart but he's rushing to get to Argentina before their winter, I'm of no fixed schedule and when I get to Colombia I plan on taking my sweet time getting to Argentina by September, at this point I have no idea. 

After getting the parts and making a few copies while we're there the next stop was Western Union to get money Scotiabank wired me. For some reason my bank card won't work at Scotia but I've found HSBC machines that will allow me to withdraw from my credit card. Something else to call them about.

I'm in line for Western Union and finally it's my turn after some were allowed to cut in front of me. I explain to the teller that I'm picking up money. She leaves. A good amount of time before she returns, the other woman explained to me she needed to get the password to log into the system. When she returns she presses a few buttons and stares at the computer. Tells me to step aside so she can help the next customer. I wait but getting impatient, I did after all have a boat to catch. She's helping me again but has to make a phone call. I figure something is wrong with the password. She gets it and is finally ready to aid me. I give her my passport and the number Western Union provides to find the wire. She asks me who sent the money and I told her I'm basically sending it to myself. Presses a few buttons and she begins counting out 967. I swear it must be a moment before she hands the money over she tells me the system is down and puts the money back into her til. Tells me I'll have to wait or go to another Western Union. Are  you fucking kidding me? 

She asks me to step aside so she can help the next customer. I told her that I want to speak to a manager or something. She tells me there is nothing she can do and I'll have to go to the main Western Union and tells me approximately where it is. I'm a little perplexed and in disbelief and seriously thought maybe I'm not suppose to take the boat. I explain to Anders and we're already late and probably missed the meeting point. I try to stay composed but it's hard.  

The next Western Union don't do money transfers. Off the next one. I knew where everything was because I had been looking for Western Unions the day before but because it was Sunday I miss all of them before they closed.

I find the main Western Union and there is lengthy line. I plead with the person at the head of the line explaining what had just happened. Being indifferent they allowed me in front. This time it worked, I get the money and we head towards the meeting spot. They're not there so it's off to the dock, we have to cross from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean to get to Carti. A Beautiful winding road, hazardous at times took up there. We stop to photograph a reclaimed part of the road. My bike parked on a bad slope rolled back into the ditch finally breaking the crash bars on the right side. The bike was truly limping now,  only 5 km left, was I going to make it?

The final part seemed like a dilapidated runway it was very satisfying having arrived after everything, especially after the last week. I was safe and now my fate was going to be put in the hands of the german crew. 

It's quarter to ten and I'm exhausted, my eyes are fighting to close but I want to record what happened today. Not to sound any alarms, it wasn't that kind of day. It started off easily enough at a comfortable hostel. After packing our bags Anders and I thought we'd ride a little before finding a beach to swim. I don't know how we did it but we manage to miss the beach. There was one chance we came across some beach but decided to skip it imagining we'd find a better one. We didn't. We rode until it seemed futile and our last resort was to bathe in a river we had crossed earlier until a local told us to be cautious of crocs. I couldn't erase an imagine of a crocodile grabing hold of my leg and pulling me down to the depths until the life in me escapes. 

Ok so no beach, life goes on. We pull over to a little place for a bite. Eggs, ham and coke and we're charged 5 dollars after the exchange is calculated. Possibly the most expensive for so little breakfast I've had in awhile. From there we head to San Vito because of the guys we met last  night invited us to their coffee plantation. Not only was I going to have some great coffee but a coffee plantation is something I'd love to have a hands on look at.

We arrive to the town and Anders works on contacting Mauricio while I inspect my bike for something else that may have gone wrong. Anders come back telling me he's found someone who's going to take us there so I was to hurry. I get all my things packed up and I'm following behind for literally half a block. It's motorcycle shop, the guys last night mentioned they knew someone who would be able to help me with the light I've ended up destroying. 

The light seemed simple enough and after a couple hours of working on it, now the engine didn't want to turn over. I would hear a buzz and then nothing. A quick look online and I figure it's the battery and not the starter as I feared. They don't have the right battery at the shop so Anders goes down the road to where they have it in stock somewhere else. While waiting for him to return I notice that my rear tire is warped. Basically I damaged from changing it so many times on the side of the road. They had a good tire in stock but I didn't like the price. I was thinking it was 200 for the rear. Too much I could get a set for that much, plus the irony of dropping a perfectly good set of tires in Honduras. The more I thought about the danger of a tire exploding on me wasn't a great option either. It was only a matter of time, whether I changed the tire now or Panama or the latest in Colombia. The truth was that I was changing the tire sooner than later, might as well be now. 

I got a little help with the tire but for the most part I did it myself, I'm almost an expert. By the time I was done Anders had arrived with the new battery and I was anxious to know it wasn't the starter causing the problems. I could hear the engine turn but not turn over. It wasn't the battery, not the starter. We tried to figure out what was causing it not to turn over. One of the guys from the shop was amazing and was able to finally located a wire from the ignition that must have been pinched from the collision and then reforming all the bent steel that formed what used to be the faring. After who knows how many hours and meticulous work we finally got the bike running again. I am very thankful for the company I'm keeping recently. I keep thinking why is this all happening. Am I not suppose to catch this boat or is it just suppose to be all that more rewarding when I get there. 

Tomorrow we're hoping to cross the border and I'll finally be in Panama. 

Chinese Dinner after a long day

The last few days have possibly been some of the lowest I've had on this journey. The rock which I hit certainly was a reminder to take my time. Especially when the series of unfortunate events were happening, the bad luck with the tubes which eventually led to me not paying attention to the road which is what you should always be paying attention to while riding. Tunnel vision obscured my judgement and the motorcycle doesn't leave much room for error. I would have been better off taking some time to gather my thoughts and especially relax. 

For a bad situation it could always be worse. I was able to walk away from another accident and as far as the motorcycle goes the front forks are undamaged. The fact I'm still riding her is amazing, even if not at night. The rear wheel has been feeling unbalanced since I took her to the "llantarea" but after getting another flat today I think I've been able to balance her just a little more. It's not perfect but it'll get me to Colombia. 

 I'm riding with a friend I met on the road in Mexico, we had different schedules before but now we're aiming to catch the same boat in Panama to take us to Colombia. Anders has room for his motorcycle and is hoping that someone will cancel and he'll be able to get himself on as well. Nevertheless it's Panama we're heading and I'm happy to be riding with someone again, I think it helps me get out of my head sometimes. Being in there is good but maybe not all the time. 

Last night we found a perfect spot to camp among Volcanos just as the sun was setting, splumes of smoke rising from the volcano. It was a dream. From what I've seen of Nicaragua I love, it feels so much safer than anything else in Central America. I'll have to make the trip down here again and I will. 

 Anyway, here are some of the photos starting with the welding I had to get on the bike. 

Welding getting done

It'll have to do

Sweet family at the llantarea

Pure dirt mountain roads from Gracias to La Paz, Honduras

Nicaragua, Immigration

It'll add character

Gracias

Now you know where your old television goes

Anders

Sunset Nicaragua

Camping among Volcanos, Nicaragua

Granada, Nicaragua

Today I experienced my second flat but it feels like my second, third and forth. I was about 30 kilometres from the Honduran border when I felt the rear go limp and wobbly, not another flat I was thinking but I knew full well I'd be able to do it in no time. 

I pull over to the shoulder and see that the tire is clearly flat. I start my removing the ammo boxes, for two reasons, they add a lot of weight and I can use one to support the bike while I take off the rear wheel. I remember to turn the gas flow to off, so when I have to turn the bike on its side gas won't leak all over. I unpack everything I'll need do the repair. Wrenches, tire irons, and pump.  Remove the brake pad. The wheel comes off easily and now it's time to take the tube out so I can examine and patch it. The first time I had instructions to aid me but I wanted to do everything by memory. It wasn't that long ago I did it on one of the worst roads I've ever driven on. Break the bead by stomping on the tire with my boot. Then I started working the tire off with the irons, in no time the tire was on the one side and the tube extracted. I couldn't find a new hole and it looked like my old patch gave out, finally. I can't fault it lasted as long as it did and at the very least got me off that mountain weeks ago. 

I take off the old patch, sand the rubber, apply some rubber cement and a new patch. Insert tube. This is when it gets difficult. Rather than start on one side of the tire and then the opposite I just went around in a circle. I had some police officers come by to see if they could aid. He could see me struggling and suggested taking me to a shop down the road. I told him that it was important I did it myself. He wished me luck and was shortly on his way. Don't do that unless you want it to be more difficult than it has to be. Lesson learned. After getting the tire on the hard way, I started to inflate with my electric pump. 

Five minutes pass and the tire won't inflate. Time to take the tire off again. Do it faster than the first time. Extract the tube again and find a hole on the side. I must have made it by taking the tire off or putting it back on. I know that you can't fix a hole on the side but then again I've never tried. I use my biggest patch and try to do it well. Reinstall the tube and work the bead inside the rim. This time doing it well and it's not nearly as hard as the first time. Inflate, somethings wrong. Turn the pump off and I can hear air. The side patch didn't hold. 

Take the tire off again. With the sun and this being my third time it wasn't easy taking the tire off the third time. I was tired, dehydrated and my frustration level was raising. Luckily I had an extra tube, they were on the bike before I left on the trip. I kept for the just in case reason and it's hard to throw away anything if there is a use for it down the road. I put in the "new" tube and get the bead in the rim right.  Turn the pump on and the bead pops into place. Finally. Lay the bike on its side to get the tire on. It's the fastest way I've figured out. Fuck, I forgot one of the spacers that go inbetween the wheel and the axle. Take the wheel off, put the spacer in place and the bike in almost ready. Stand her back up. Put the brake pad on, wait, where did that other screw go? While standing the bike right up I lost one of the bolts that fasten into the brakes. A kind of important mechanism, and I was lucky to have a passerby witness my tantrum as I start throwing shit around pissed at myself for misplacing something so important. He leaves. I finally find the screw and I'm more content. At this time a boy comes by and starts talking to me. Telling me he saw me three hours ago and wanted to make sure I was ok. By then I was cooled down, even though I was hot, tired and dehydrated. His name was Walter, he lived close by, he was between 14 and 16. Really nice kid. After about a half hour of chatting I was ready to be on the road. The sun was going to be set in about an hour and I needed a place to sleep. I was too tired to camp and I wasn't going to cross into Honduras tonight. When shit like this happens I try to keep in mind that everything is apart of the journey. I was a little embarrassed to have let my frustrations boil over. You can't control what happens only your reaction. That's one of the greatest things the motorcycle has taught me. 

I was back on the road, as I'm climbing one of the hills the engine is dying, what now? I quickly remember that I hadn't turn the gas on. After a moment gas is fed to the engine and I continue until  the first town I could find, La Palma. Went past a couple dodgy hotels. I'm trying to avoid the pay per hour hotels for the simple reason I like having fresh air and windows. I found this little place with cabins, hot water and an internet connection. It was more than I like to pay, 12 dollars but after my little mishap I earned it. Tomorrow it's Honduras.

El Salvador

Yeah it's flat

Making a mess

Fixed or should I think, attempt #1

Walter came to hang out, sweet kid. Finally finished after 3 hours.