On Ometepe Island

Isla Ometepe from San Jorge dock

"The Bridge" near the Pamana / Costa Rica border at Sixola


San Jorge ferry dock

Waiting at the cafe for the Ometepe Ferry


The sunset cruise on the ferry to Ometepe

March 2/06

First day on road back toward home. . . 428K, Panama City to David.

We were up early and made our way by taxi to Joe’s place to pick up the bikes. Joe was away but we met his wife Brenda and Joe’s assistant Tracy. Tracy did most of the work on the bikes for us and he was thorough. We had specified a few items that we wanted looked at but Tracy went over the bikes from top to bottom, adjusting and tightening any part or bolt that could be turned or tweaked. Tracy even insisted on re-adjusting Dave’s chain when he discovered that he was riding two up. Great work at a reasonable price. I would highly recommend them to anyone that might need their services. (Contact Joe Hummer at 317-9264 in Panama City or email me if you want more information)

We were on the bikes by 10 am. Luckily, the Pan-American Highway is easy access from Joe’s place to so we didn’t have to navigate though the city. Despite our best efforts to stay within the law and avoid any police encounters we were stopped 3 times today.

1^st. Jen and Dave were pulled over. We were moving slowly through a road construction area. Dave stood up on the foot pegs to stretch his legs. Apparently, in Panama motorcycle riders are required to remain seated! No Kidding… Dave was told that standing on the foot pegs was considered an unsafe practice that could cause an accident. No ticket, only a warning.

Next, Linda and I were pulled over because the police officer thought Dave was speeding? The officer had signalled to Dave to pull over but Dave was past him when the officer’s arm went out. Since Dave didn’t stop he stopped me! Even though Dave did not think that he was speeding (80KPH limit at this point), I was told to tell him to slow down then allowed to continue on my way.

An hour later we stopped at a road side stand for a pop and a snack. As we pulled back onto the road, we were instructed to pull over once again by another officer. What now? We couldn’t be speeding. We were both seated. What hell did we do this time?

We were asked to produce our licence and passports, then follow the officer inside his roadside office. We were asked some basic questions by one fellow (about where we had come from and where we were going) while another officer went out side. This fellow returned within a minute or so to inform us that we had exceeded the 40kph limit when we passed through a town several kilometres back. He told us that he had been phoned with our licence numbers, which he showed us written on a piece of paper. Then one officer showed us on a map where the apparent infraction occurred. He first pointed to a town that we had not even passed through! When we told him that we had not been on that road, he slid his finger to another location on the map.

Anyway… we vehemently denied that we had been speeding anywhere and refused to pay a “fine” of $60. cash each. After several more threats to write a ticket accompanied by our denial of any infraction, we were suddenly given our documents back and told to leave.

As we prepared to get back on the bikes, the girls told us that one of the cops had come out to the bikes shortly after we went into the office and copied down our plate numbers. We figure that these two officers concocted the speeding violation story when they saw us stopped at the restaurant. The paper we were presented with our licence numbers was made by one cop while we spoke to the other and were not relayed by phone.

It is virtually impossible in Panama (and most of the central am countries) to determine the speed limit. By North Am standards, speed signs are few and far between. As you enter a built up area there may be a sign indicating the speed limit (60 usually, 40 sometimes) but at the end of the built up area there is either no sign indicating that you can speed up or a sign which simply says “resume speed” (translated). If you start riding from inside the speed restricted area and see a sign that says “resume speed”, what exactly does that mean? If you don’t remember what the speed limit was prior to entering the built up area the night before, you won’t know what the speed limit is! As we found out, it really doesn’t matter. We did not exceed the slowest highway speed we had seen (80K). Trucks, car and buses constantly passed us, but we were the ones who were stopped. That’s just the way it is here. Even though we were not ticketed or did not have pay anything, it is extremely annoying to have to have to go through this bullshit. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth and a deep mistrust of the police.

Despite the delays we reached David by 5 pm and found a hotel. Tomorrow we plan to head north to the Caribbean coast, Boca Del Toro.

March 3/06

It was one of those adventuresome days. We started with the sun and quickly rode into the mountains north of David. Good road and great scenery. As we moved north the vegetation gradually changed from farmland to forest to jungle. Even though this is the dry season it was evident that there is plenty of moisture on the northern slopes of the mountains. It was nice to find some cool air in the mountains but as we descended to the Caribbean coast we moved into hot humid air.

We planned to take the ferry to Boca del Toro, located on an island just off shore, but the ferry only ran once a day each way and we would have had to wait until the next day to catch it. A water taxi was an option but I would mean leaving the bikes unattended for several hours… just not an option for me.

At this point it we were only an hour from the border of Costa Rica and we knew of coastal accommodation about an hour inside Costa Rica. We decided to head for the border. This is where the adventure began.

This area is one of the prime banana growing areas. As I mentioned, it is wet land and there are many rivers and canals. There is also an old network of railways that appear to be unused now. However, the old railway bridges are still used for rubber tire and pedestrian traffic. They must be narrow gauge railway tracks because the road surface is created by nailing a couple of 2x12 planks to the ties, parallel to the outer edge of the tracks. This creates two wooden tracks sufficiently spaced to allow cars and trucks a rolling surface. Alternating traffic in either direction.

Unfortunately, it appears that these bridges receive little or no maintenance. Many of the planks are broken and some are completely missing. Add to this that there is a sparse and dilapidated guard rail. Some sections of the guard rail are completely missing!

The first bridge, of this nature, that we encountered was about 150 metres long and 30 meters above a stony river bed. I couldn’t ride over it. I stopped on the approach to the bridge. Linda and I pushed the bike back onto the edge of the road to assess the situation. Dave just kept going and luckily he and Jenny made it across the bridge in one piece.

After a short assessment, I knew that I could not ride over the bridge on the dilapidated planks. The risk was just too high. If I had to stop anywhere on the bridge I was in serious trouble. My short legs would not reach the ground to hold the loaded bike up. Best scenario was that I would fall toward the center of the bridge and risk dropping my leg between the ties, worst scenario would be that I would fall toward the edge of the bridge and possibly fall though the dilapidated guard rail to certain death.

The options were to get across the bridge somehow or ride all the way back to David and take the main highway to Costa Rica. There was some pedestrian and bicycle traffic on the bridge. The cars and truck had to wait for this slower traffic to clear the bridge before starting in the opposite direction. I decided that I would walk the bike over the bridge. The traffic would just have to wait. With Dave’s assistance, I pushed the bike over the bridge. I walked along the ties in the centre of the tracks while rolling the bike along the planks. Dave pushed and stabilized the bike from behind. This was scary enough for me. By the time we reached the far side, my shirt was soaked from the sweat… fear combine with exertion causes a great deal of perspiration. If this wasn’t enough the bridge at the border was similar. Same construction, but shorter. Another walk and push. More sweat.

The border crossing was again an adventure on its own. Since this crossing was somewhat off the beaten track, it was even less organized than the others. The biggest problems were communication and finding the right location to obtain the next permit. The lack of signage, of any sort, turns a cumbersome but straightforward process into a frustrating game of hide and seek.

An hour after clearing the border we found a hotel in Puerto Viejo, a trendy surfing town on the Costa Rica Caribbean coast. Lots of foreign tourists here. English is the predominant language heard on the street. Most businesses seem to be owned by foreigners.

March 4/06

After a nice breakfast, with real coffee (as Linda says), we headed for Arenal, the most active volcano in Costa Rica. Except for a short section of road from Puerto Viejo to the secondary highway, the roads today were in great condition. Of course there were the deep potholes to avoid but much of the road appeared to have been recently resurfaced.

The speed limits on the secondary highway in Costa Rica are very low by North American standards. The normal limit is 60 kph, dropping to 40 kph through the numerous towns and villages. Occasionally there are short sections where the speed limits jumps all the way up to 80K. We stayed within (or close to) the limit. And we passed several police locations where apparent speeders were stopped. At the beginning of the day, when you have 300 K ahead of you, the speed limit seems unacceptably low, especially if the road is straight and there is little traffic. But once you accept the slower pace, it is quite a relaxing ride. Luckily most of the road was winding through some gorgeous country side. I actually enjoyed the slower pace today. I had enough adventure yesterday! There was a little rain enroute. Only a few light showers. Not at all an inconvenience… actually refreshing.

Jen and Dave had a little excitement today. I have mentioned before how tight some turns can be on these narrow roads. Jen and Dave had to ride into the ditch to avoid an on coming semi-trailer in one of the tight turns. No damage done.

Enroute to Fortuna (near Volcan Arenal) we followed hwy 4 to Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui then hwy 140 to Cuidad Quesada. It is a great route through an eco-tourism area. We passed several white water rafting operation as well as canopy tours, hiking, etc. There also was a good supply of hotels and B&Bs along the route. Definitely some of the best roads we have encountered in Costa Rica.

In Fortuna we found a reasonably priced hotel. Around the volcano accommodation rates range from $8. per person to $200. per person. Depends what you want. We opted for a $10. per person room on the main drag in Fortuna. Clean and air conditioned but a little noisy.

Unfortunately, the cloud base was well below the top of the volcano so when it came to volcano viewing we saw “nada”.

March 5/06

We were hoping for clear skies this morning, but it was not to be. Low cloud hung around the mountain and volcano viewing would have to happen some other day. We planned to get an early start and make a run for the Nicaragua border but that didn’t happen either. As we were about to leave the hotel we realized that the main road had been closed for a triathlon. After speaking to the organizers, they let us leave as long as we stayed well right on the roadway. This worked well for us for a few kilometres, but eventually we were stopped for 45 minutes with the rest of the traffic until the bike riders had passed out location.

The road from Fortuna followed the north shore of Laguna de Arenal though thick jungle and rain forest. For the most part it was pretty rough… broken pavement and rough gravel sections, but work was in progress to repair it. A combination of light rain, potholes (huecos) and wet gravel made for a slow ride around the lake, but it was an interesting ride. We saw some wildlife that we were unable to identify and had it not been for the rain, the views would have been good.

After stopping for a bite to eat we decided that we would get to the border too late to cross into Nicaragua. We decide to detour to the pacific coast to find a place to stay. Playa Coco was the closest beach to the highway. We found a nice B&B and settled in by the pool for a couple of hours before supper. A nice break from the last few days of travel. Tomoorrow… Nicaragua and Ometepe Island in Laga de Nicaragua.

March 6/06

After a nice breakfast at the B&B we headed for the border. An uneventful leg through dry rolling terrain. It has been our experience that the western / southern coastal plains throughout Central America are windy. We have not experienced a calm day in these areas since passing through southern Mexico. At times the wind is extremely strong and the gusty cross winds make for unpleasant, though not dangerous riding.

The border crossing went quite smoothly. We had crossed at this border crossing on the way down. That helped find the offices in order. For some reason, the customs officer wanted to know at which border crossing we planned to exit Nicaragua into Honduras? We showed her a map and her first response was that we could not leave the country at the border crossing we had indicated. We said OK, we will leave at another on and we pointed to the map. After 20 minutes or so of passing the map around to various officials they decided that our first choice border crossing was the best one (?) and our papers were stamped. We have no idea what that was all about?

The ferry that carried vehicles from San Jorge to the island of Ometepe only operates 3 times a day in each direction. It is not large and reservations are normally required. We arrived at the ferry dock at 11:30 and inquired about transportation on the 2:30 ferry. After enlisting the assistance of an English speaking local we were told that it looked good but we would have to wait until 1:30 to buy our tickets. We waited for the ferry in the little café across the road from the ticket office.

At 1:30 we paid for our passage and at 2:00 we rode down the dock to the loading area. It is amazing what these guys can squeeze on these ferries but from the line up of cars and trucks it seemed impossible that it would all fit. With a lot of arm waving, whistling and shouting the vehicles are manoeuvred (usually backed) onto the ferry. They are parked close enough that the rear view mirrors must be folded back so as not to hit the adjacent vehicle.

With all the cars on and with what appeared to be just enough space left for two motorcycles, Dave and Jenny were signalled onto the boat. I started to follow but was signalled to stop. Another car had arrived and to our amazement was being signalled onto the ferry ahead of us. This is where it got interesting!

By the time I got off the bike and walked down the ramp to see what was going on Linda, Jenny and Dave were shouting at the loaders. It was obvious that there would not be enough space for another vehicle… our bike. We tried to explain that we both had to go or Dave and Jen had to get off the ferry. The driver of the last car on spoke English and said that he had just arrived and bought a ticket. He was as confused as we were with the loading procedure. He was willing to back off the ferry and let me load but the ferry captain had no time for this manoeuvre, he just stated pulling away from the dock with Linda still on the loading ramp of the ferry yelling, no, screaming at the workers. She managed to jump ashore just before the ferry cleared loading ramp. In a fit of frustration Linda started throwing water, from her water bottle, at what appeared to be the loading supervisor. This turned out to be great entertainment from all the other workers and passengers. The workers laughed particularly hard.

Within a few minutes, we made our way back to the entrance to the dock, settled down, talked to the ticket office and made a plan to call ahead to Jen and Dave, tell them to get a hotel and meet us at the next ferry. The next ferry was not until 5:30, so we headed back to café to wait. By this time everyone had heard the story of Linda’s rant. I think they thought it was the funniest thing that they had seen in years. Soon we met up with the loading supervisor and Linda apologized. There didn’t seem to be any hard feelings.