CENTRAL AMERICA – December 15, 2012 to January 13, 2013
This trip started the eve of December 14th with a birthday party for my 14 year old granddaughter Nadia at the Red Lobster in Madison, WI. Before retiring I arranged for a taxi to pick me up at my son Mark’s house at 5:20 AM. At 5:10 I turned on the front porch light and the cab driver who was already there decided to help by opening the front storm door. This prompted Buddy (Mark’s dog) to start alerting the neighborhood of his space invasion. I hustled to finish packing and we were off to the airport. While going through security my cell phone rang. Mark asked if I might have forgotten to pack something. I had not packed my travel folder with the passport, international driver’s license and vehicle registration, and all of the online research that Neil and Sophie did on potential hotel accommodations. The last time I did something that stupid, my son Kent and I were approaching the airline desk in Minneapolis for a flight to Morocco to visit Mark who was in the Peace Corp. Kent asked about my passport and of course it was back in a file drawer in the Wisconsin Dells. Kent went on by himself and I returned to the Dells. This time I received the file the next morning when Mark and staff sent it overnight via UPS.
December 14th I stayed at the Capuchin house in Tucson. Father Bob Kose was not only a gracious host but had stored the Goldwing for me since I drove it down to Tucson in October. Father Nick Widhammer, who was a classmate of mine at St Lawrence in the 1950’s, and I were able to get caught up on some 60 years of history. I was going to do a Blog for www.horizonsunlimited.com , but couldn’t get started because the rain over the previous couple days had affected the internet service. I tried McDonalds and they too had a problem. The blog will have to wait.
December 15th I entered Mexico at Nogales and the crossing seemed similar to border crossings in Europe. It was a simple drive through. It was much later when I found out that this was a big mistake on my part. I sort of expected to meet up with some other bikers but saw none. Maybe the 44 degree temperature is not cycle weather down here. The terrain has many varied rock formations. I saw what looked like little dog houses along the side of the highway. Then I saw one with a cross on top. Evidently auto related deaths. I should have made better use of my cell phone before crossing the border, because by the time that I arrived at my hotel in Hermosillo, it was too late to buy a SIM card. There was no English at the desk to help me figure out the inoperable internet connection. The blog will have to wait.
December 16th I retired last night about 10:00 PM and awoke around mid-night. Someone was playing some horrible music. About 12:30 I walked outside and the noise was coming from outside the enclave. At 1 AM I called the desk and asked them to do something. At 1:30 I called and they said that they had called the police. The noise finally stopped at 2 AM. It would be a good idea when planning hotel stays to pack ear plugs if the travel book advertises a disco. When I left the hotel at 9 A.M. the temperature was 44 degrees. The landscape included numerous tetons and not much in the way of green. Around 10:00 I removed my gloves and traded my real helmet for the much lighter silver plated graphite salad bowl that I bought from Jeno while touring Transylvania in 2008. By 11:00 the landscape around Navojoa had turned to emerald. I am now beginning to see some motorcycles. Still no touring bikes but a good number of 150’s. There for awhile I was thinking that Easy Rider might have been a best seller down here. The 15 cows grazing in the center area of the 4 lane highway was a bit un-nerving.
The one Mexican tourist attraction that I wanted to see was the Copper Canyon (Mexico’s Grand Canyon) area. DC had spent a good bit of time and effort to arrange this side trip out of Los Mochis. The address for the Santa Anita Hotel was given as the intersection of two streets so therefore not programmable into the GPS. While trying to follow directions from 2 other hotels doormen with ‘no Englaish’, I came inches from being hit by a car doing about 60 miles an hour and coming out of an alley. My immediate reaction was to congratulate myself for paying the extra $100.00 to have Engelhart (Honda dealer) rework the front handbrakes. After checking in I called Mark to let folks know that I was alive, but out of communication until I get back from the canyon and able to buy a SIM for my phone. Unfortunately I was not able to get the tablet computer, that my son Kent gave me, to shake hands with the hotel Wi/Fi. I guess we will have to forgo the blog. I won’t have service at the canyon.
December 17th The 4:15 wake up call got me to the waiting bus by 5:15. The train was less than ½ full and a few more passengers got on at El Fuerte. They had a nice diner car and the food was pretty good. I discovered an excellent soup called Aztech. The route was a real engineering marvel with over 80 tunnels and numerous bridges. For those of you that have visited our grand canyon, you will be able to get an idea of the size of the ‘Barranca del Cobre’, by these numbers. The deepest part of our canyon is 4674 feet and several Copper Canyons are from 5700 to 6100 feet. Total area of our canyon is about 1/4th the size. We arrived in time for a 2 PM luncheon and I got caught up a bit on my journal notes. I met some interesting folks at dinner.
December 18th The heating system for my room did not cope with the drop in temperature so about 6 A.M. I went back to the combination lounge, dining room and bar area to watch the sun rise over the opposite canyon wall. The high light of the tour for me was our visit to the homes of the reclusive Tarahumara Indians that live in the canyon’s caves much like their ancestors did 400 years ago. Unfortunately, I ran out of balloons because of poor planning. I didn’t expect that I would be giving them to adults as well as children. One improvement for the caves was a recent contribution from the Mexican government of small solar panels that provide light during evening hours. I guess I packed a bit too light for this overnight stay. The lack of bug spray was not an issue but I definitely missed the sun tan lotion and baseball hat. The climb out of the canyon reminded me of the 1 ½ hour climb out from the Zambezi river below Victoria Falls in Botswana where Beth and I did the white river rafting thing. The train arrived back in Los Mochis at 9:30 PM.
December 19th I was at the mobile phone shop promptly at 8 AM and found no English in the area. The SIM chip was installed, but I couldn’t use it because of a message in Spanish. I went to the ATM only to find that the 2 VISA cards that I had PIN numbers for did not work. I had several $100.00 bills stashed but was keeping them for the countries South of Mexico where the internet warned about some ATM’s not accepting U.S. cards. I left about 9:30 AM for Mazatlan and stopped for gas. Neither of my credit cards worked and they did not accept American Express. I paid for the gas with a $10.00 roll of U.S. half dollars, a one dollar U.S. bill, 300 Peso’s and some Peso coins. It was when I got to the first toll booth near Culiacan that I found out that my credit on both VISA cards had been stopped. The booth operators would not take a $100.00 bill, nor the half dollar coins, nor American Express, nor a bulky pair of yellow boots. Because of some English among this really nice bunch of folks, I was able to get them to go along with the idea of my turning around and taking an exit into the city of Culiacan. I was just congratulating myself on my excellent diplomacy when I ran into the exit toll booth. This time the lady spoke some English, made a phone call (with vehicles lining up in back of me) and accepted four of the half dollars. (The shiny new half dollars were meant to be used as tips on the trip, another of my less than brilliant plans – it turned out that coins of any denomination were not valued there). In Culiacan I cashed one of the $100.00 bills and arrived at the Aztec motel in Mazatlan around 5 PM.
The desk clerk Geraldo spoke English and was a big help with my communications and credit card dilemma. Strangely, only one of the VISA card’s credit was stopped because of my use out of the country. The other appears to be caused by a Christmas gift charge by one of our Recruiters who bought a poinsettia for one of her clients in Iowa. With Geraldo’s help, I have workable e-mails and a usable cell phone. I was even able to replenish my balloon supply. I didn’t however have a workable PIN number.
December 20th I got an early start toward Guadalajara with a half tank of gas. When the needle got close to the empty line, I realized that there are no gas stations on the highway. I passed a Gas sign to Tecuala and then doubled back at the next exit. The first thing I noticed at the station, was the guy pumping gas was toking on a weed. No English but seemed to be cheerful enough. After a half hour wait at a bank in Tepic for the only English speaking guy to get back from Siesta, I was told that even with a passport I could not extract money without a PIN number. So I exchanged another $200.00 U.S.
I set the GPS to get me past Guadalajara and the first hotel upon entering Ocotlan was kind of interesting. I drive inside an exterior wall and there is a sort of courtyard with a speaker device like at McDonalds. I talk into the device and 3 women of various ages come out, look at me and giggle. They show me a room by opening a garage door (seems that the last guest didn’t return a key). No English but I was able to determine that they did not have Wi/Fi or a phone systems. As I am leaving I notice that they have a display of lingerie for sale in a window next to their office. I spent the night at a Casino/hotel mid-way between Ocotlan and La Barca. I still have not seen a touring motorcycle.
December 21st Early 6 AM start and I was in Morelia and able to negotiate another no English SIM chip purchase that worked. I reached Jennifer Huerta to let her know that I might make Puerta later that day. Jennifer is the daughter of Bob and Mary Lou Granger of Miami Florida. They have been longtime friends of my brother Fr Bob and have been my gracious hosts on several Florida visits. Her husband Carlos is from Tehuacan a city a bit South of Mexico City. They have invited me to stay with them in Puebla and join them for a baptism adventure in Tehuacan.
It is a beautiful day and I shed my leather coat and real helmet around 11 AM. I enter the newly completed Arco Norte toll road at Atlacomulca with a full tank of gas. The Arco Norte will allow me to bypass the Mexico City nightmare. They feed you a plastic card from one of their brand new dispensers and you pay at the other end. Well at least that is the way that it is supposed to work. There was probably a sign in Spanish somewhere on the approach that warned that they do not accept credit cards. On my arrival near Puerta I was escorted to the administration building where I offered them 100 Pesos for the 450 Peso charge. This was finally accepted after I sat in their office for a ½ hour reading about Auschwitz on my kindle. I called Carlos and Jen and let them know that I wanted to see if the GPS would lead me to their home. Not one of my smartest decisions.
In short order I got totally lost and I called C & J to come and lead me in. It took another 15 minutes to determine where I was at. There was one street sign for a street that crossed the entire city, but no one in the OXXO or pharmacy could understand what I was asking. I investigated a motel that was long closed and picked up a business card from what appeared to be a muffler repair shop. Finally I turned the phone over to a customer in the OXXO who spoke to Carlos. OXXO = 7/11s owned by Coca Cola throughout Mexico. We went to C & J’s friend Laura Palacios’s home who had a secure garage for stashing the goldwing. Laura joined us for dinner and I got my class 101 in Mexican menu reading. Laura is about a year away from obtaining her PHD in Education. I also got my class 101 in proper Tequila drinking back at C & J’s comfortable Condo.
December 22nd At 8 AM I followed C & J to the city of Tehuacan where Carlos was born and lived through high school. The baptism mass was set for 2 PM and we arrived in time for brunch. Ham, eggs, breads, pastries, and 2 types of soup. A regular smorgasbord. I met a lot of extended family with a good representation of Suzans and Daniels. Several family members spoke English and everyone made me feel like I belonged. The baby Maria Paulina is the daughter of Carlos’s sister Paulina and brother-in-law Edmundo Barragan. Carlos’s parents Silverio and Susana Huerta made me feel very welcome and comfortable in their home.
My brother Fr Bob always says that he would prefer doing several funerals to a wedding. (Mothers of the bride I think) Well he would love doing Mexican baptisms. It rivals Christmas. Presents, gathering of extended family, booze, dinner, a live band, booze, and a late night barbeque. Carlos assisted in helping me with finding and obtaining needed funds from an ATM. Jen helped me solve some functions of my ‘Smart’ phone, which is a lot smarter than me. Edmundo Barragan, Carlos’s brother-in-law’s father, gave me much needed direction for the best route to Guatemala. It was a fun party, but the tequila sort of snuck up on me.
December 23rd I said goodbye to Susana (Carlo’s mother) at about 8 AM and C & J escorted me out to the highway. By following the directions of Edmundo, I was able to do the 475 miles and reach my hotel in Tuxtla Gutierrez just after dark at 6:15 PM. I visited a nearby Taco place that smelt good. As I come in I see large sausages off to the side of the kitchen. I thought that I had ordered one and I immediately received a taco appetizer. I waited and waited for my sausage and finally asked the guy at the cash drawer about my sausage. Since he didn’t understand, I took him to the entrance and pointed to the sausages. Well, I got my sausage but it was a real disappointment. The skin was filled with the chopped up meat that they make for the tacos. Too spicy for me to consume so I went back to the menu.
December 24th I left the hotel at 6 AM and traveled in a cloud until leaving the mountain. When the sun appeared about 8:30, It became a balmy day for riding. I reached the border of Guatemala around noon and immediately had a 30 year old helper there to assist me through the border crossing. He took my passport to an official in a window and immediately returned telling me that I needed to get a Mexican stamp. Back at the Mexican side I was told I needed to go back to Norgales (about 1500 miles) and get it stamped. I went back to my helper who took me aside and told me that for $100.00 he could get the problem taken care of. I asked if I would get a receipt. His answer was “ No receipt – It is business”. I went back to Mexico and asked again for the stamp. The guy at the window refused.
I asked to speak to someone that spoke English and sat down and took out my kindle. After about 10 minutes a different official came and took my passport and stamped it. I thanked him profusely. I went back to Korea and my helper took up where he started. I needed to buy a windshield sticker for $25.00 but got a receipt. I thought that my helper might be too embarrassed because of the bribe request to ask for a tip. When he asked I gave him a balloon. He got a bit upset but a couple of his buddies in the area got a big laugh out of it. I ended up giving him some Pesos worth about $8.00 U.S..
The word Teton means teat in French. Guatemala has to be the Teton (speed bump) capital of the world. They often (but not always) warn you about the approaching speed bumps with a sign that has 3 Tetons on it. Tetons come in different dimensions. The perky ‘C’ cup is the worst for the motorcycle. It is high enough to connect with the frame between the 2 wheels. The maidenly ‘D’ cup will allow you to transverse at about 15 miles an hour. The Goldwing took 3 big hits within the first ½ hour. I got lost in Malacatan and pulled to the side to look at the map. I gave a balloon to a little girl and asked the mother if she spoke English. She said momento and went into the building. She came back with her husband and a little boy who got the last of the fancy eared balloons that Jen had given me. The husband Jose spoke some English and offered to lead me out of the city on his scooter. When I asked about a local hotel, he walked me down the street to the Rodriques Hotel and he got me the best room for $30.00 and with locked courtyard parking. I have got to get more balloons.
December 25th Merry Christmas ! I was packing the goldwing when Jose showed up at 6 AM to lead me out of the city. Even with minimum traffic this was a good thing. I am catching on to the fact that cities here do not have much in the way of signs showing you out of the city. I wish I had purchased the GPS software for the Central American Countries. Jose refused my tip. Got to love these folks. It was still a bit dark when I hit an unmarked ‘D’ cup at about 55 miles an hour. I went airborne and landed hard with the rear wheel landing at a bit of an angle. The weight of the cycle seemed to help to right itself and I did not of course go down. At the next gas station I saw that the part of the fairing around the key was snapped. The Goldwing is a remarkable machine and has taken a beating over the last 15 years. I laid it down on a mountain pass in a rainstorm on the Isle of Krk in the Adriatic in 2010.
It was getting real dark when I approached San Salvador looking for a hotel. A family at a restaurant led me by car to a wall/gate with an armed guard a few blocks away. Nothing in the way of a sign was obvious. The guard made a phone call to see if they accepted VISA and they did. The guard directed me to a garage and pointed to the stairs. I went upstairs and it is just a room with a bath/shower. I went back down to the guard with my palms turned up and he sent me back up. This time I notice a 16“ by 16” door over a couch. When I open the door I hear voices so I call out. The inside door opens and a lady in her 40s appears while reciting a list of Spanish saints, a good place to buy shoes and didn’t stop until I gave her my No Española. I gave her my visa card and got a hand rub. I am not making this up. She returned with an open bottle of Corona (popular Mexican ), a $30.00 visa slip and a menu in Spanish. Evidently the room comes with a meal and a . I signed the visa slip and picked the only thing that I recognized on the menu – chicken. It wasn’t a bad meal and even came with another . As I put the dishes back in the box, a male voice in perfect English asked if I needed anything else.
December 26th At 6 AM I had loaded the wing and started the engine when the ground floor door into the garage burst open and outcome 3 ladies. The hand rubber gives me a hug and indicates that she is ready to ride. She evidently liked my bike. After doing a class 101 in goldwings including saddle bag opening, trunk opening, gas tank opening, horn and radio, I was on my way. I lost an hour trying to find my way out of town, but stumbled on a Wal-Mart only because it was actually on a road sign. They didn’t have any balloons but I found a Dollar Store type place that had them. I talked to someone that was heading East and followed him to an actual road sign.
On my approach to Honduras I was met by 2 brothers that disappeared with my exit paper from El Salvador when I refused to pay them for things like fumigating the cycle. Honduras would not let me enter without it. Before I could find someone with enough English to explain this to me I ran out of daylight. I checked into the local no man land border hotel. I must have gotten the bridal suite because it has inside plumbing. The hotel has sort of a restaurant, a small store and accepts VISA. I am down to about $12.00 in ½ dollar coins which no one wants to take. There are no ATMs in the area that accept U.S. credit cards.
I handed out some balloons to my next door’s kids and was pleased to find out that the father spoke English. He explained that I would have to go back out to the El Salvador exit station to get a copy of the missing exit document. He also explained that I would have to pay a VISA charge for the cycle. We talked about my $ problem and he agreed to help. We went to the store and bought a large supply of baby food and I put it on the VISA card in addition to his room cost. He in turn gave me the equivalent Pesos for about $80.00 U.S. dollars. About then Geraldo Rivas shows up. He speaks English and had heard about my problem. I agreed to pay him $10.00 U.S. if he will help me tomorrow and we agree to meet at 8 AM.
December 27th Geraldo and I go to the administration office to make sure that all they need is a copy of the exit form. The person Suzanne that we needed to talk to was in a meeting. About 8:30 I called Juan Lopez in Managua, Nicaragua. I explain that I will be a day or two late due to a problem getting into Honduras. I also mentioned my $ problems but that I was working on getting that solved. He kindly offered to Western Union $100.00 to me and I accepted. Geraldo and I finally got the information that we needed, stopped at the Western Union office to pick up Juan’s money, and rented a 3 wheeler taxi to take us out to the exit station. We were directed to a warehouse type building about a ½ mile in back of the exit station on the highway. It was well into the 90 degree range and no breeze. We waited a good hour until I went and stood in front of the one way mirror door that leads into the air conditioned office. An official came out and assured Geraldo and I that it wouldn’t be long now. A few minutes later the lights went out. It seems that someone neglected to order fuel for the generator. At 4:10 we obtained the form and sped back to Suzanne. Thanks to Juan’s Dollars I had plenty to pay the Aduana fees. Geraldo kept pushing Suzanne and while ignoring a couple citizens, I was cleared at 4:50 PM. When I kissed Suzanne everyone in the place clapped. There must have been ten of the Ombudsmen around the Goldwing. After paying Geraldo his $10.00 I distributed the remaining 50 cent pieces to the helpers and several children. Some had balloons. An hour later I check into a hotel in Choluteca Honduras. Obviously no more Tetons. Oops, I am out of time on my smart phone.

December 28th I got kissed by a cop today and life is good. The crossing into Nicaragua was the easiest since coming into Mexico due to Mr Wilson Martinez. Wilson spoke good English having spent several periods of time in the U.S. I had run into another glitch on the highway coming into the border. The service station that said they accepted VISA could not process my U.S. cards so I paid cash. I knew this would cut me a bit short but some borders have ATMs. With Wilson’s help I got through the border in about 40 minutes and almost had enough cash for $12.00 Visa, $12.00 insurance and came up about a buck short for the cost of photocopies which Wilson paid. If some of you are getting the idea that all of the people in Central America are sphincter muscles (Ass holes) you are wrong. For every Alexander Contreras there are 10 Wilson Martinez. I hope Wilson visits us some day so I can repay him.
When I arrived in Esteli Nicaragua, I hit the ATM, had lunch and called Juan. We agreed to meet at the car rental site at the airport and I would follow them into the Capuchin house. As I came into the small city of San Isidro I passed a string of cars on a bridge. When I was leaving the city I was pulled over by a 30ish lady cop and her young 20 year old male sidekick. They seemed to have trouble believing that I did not speak Spanish. I gave her my International Drivers License and she began writing on a pad. About then a truck full of soldiers pulled up and began to disembark. I immediately threw up my arms in an exaggerated surrender. Ms cop seemed to think this was pretty funny and pulled me around and gestured that they were not after me. I elaborately wiped my brow and she giggled. She is writing away and I turn on the cycle’s radio. They just happened to be playing a rather jazzy piece and Ms cop began to gyrate. I went up to her and extended my arms for a dance. She raised her clip board and shook her finger at me. Then she motioned to me that I could go. When I hugged her she pecked me on my bearded cheek. Remember ‘Love potion number 9’?
Juan Lopez Urbina and I have not seen each other for 60 years. We were both at St Lawrence Seminary in 1952 and Juan spent that summer in Norwalk with my family. Juan returned to Nicaragua and as the oldest child helped his widowed mother raise and educate 8 brothers and a sister. My brother Father Irvin was a favorite person in Juan’s life and he visited Juan in Nicaragua so I had some ongoing information about Juan’s life. Juan’s son-in-law Bismark Reyes was driving the car when I was met at the airport by Juan and his wife Socorro. We stopped at their home (which was beautifully decorated for Christmas) where I met the rest of the family – daughters Lourdes, Annette, and Carla – grandson Benjamin and very precocious 6 year old granddaughter Nicole. I won’t meet their daughter Iris until I visit South America in that she is a nun in Chile. We then went to the Capuchin house where we met Father Solano and Brother Victor. I had a comfortable room with closets, a large table with internet, and a bathroom/shower.
December 29th I woke up about 4 AM and took a drink of water. Oh, Oh problem swallowing. I tried to clear my throat and coughed up phlegm. I went to the kitchen and microwaved a cup of water and added some honey. Not good, we have a problem here. Due to Bismark’s connections, I was able to get into see an Eye, Nose and Throat specialist on short notice. Well it wasn’t strep but something similar but more easily treatable virus. If I remember correctly it cost me about $30.00. I will notify Obama. With a stop at the pharmacy it was time to do some sightseeing. Bismark drove us out to see a volcano but it was closed. Sure you can close a volcano. I remember when they used to lock the town dump back in Norwalk, WI. We took a boat ride on Managua Lake and it took us through like hundreds of islands. The islands are populated with families living in less than real homes and they make their living by fishing. Juan and I got caught up on 60 years of history and his was more interesting than mine. He was seriously affected by their Civil War and came close to losing his life. He was a successful teacher and Accountant.
December 30th I woke up feeling considerably better and decided to see what I could of Costa Rica before Juan’s New Years eve party. 8 AM mass with Father Francisco Solano was interesting. It was just Father and I and he didn’t think my offering to take up the collection was necessary. With Father having been in Nicaragua for 30 years, he has not had a lot of opportunities to do the English version. With my expert help, we managed pretty well. After mass Father kindly lead me out to the highway and I was on my way.
I arrived at the Costa Rica border about noon. The Costa Rica border passing was supposed to be more civilized. I agreed to pay $10.00 to my Ombudsman after giving him my spiel about ‘I only want a translator, keep your cotton picking hands off my papers and just walk me through. We did the exit from Managua in about 30 minutes. There was a long line of people entering Costa Rica and I waited in line. Did a great job of distributing balloons until I ran out. When I return from freshening my balloon supply from the cycle, a Canadian guy suggested that I follow him and by pass the line. Within 20 minutes I had my Costa Rica pass port stamp. Well it turned out that that was the easy part. Now we need to buy the insurance. I won’t bore you with the details but the administration office is 3 football fields from the Aduana and the photocopies are near the Aduana but needed by administration. 2 hours later I am headed into Cost Rica.
I check into a good ‘find’ hotel about 5:30 PM. The desk actually speaks pretty good English. When I headed out to dinner I stop by the desk and ask if I pay a bit extra could I get a towel. A guy sitting in the lobby burst out laughing and said something like “that must be embarrassing for a classy place like this”. I couldn’t make out the accent but it sounded a bit Australian. I won’t diverse here but I ended up spending a delightful evening with Grant and his wife Ella. He grew up in Cairns, Australia and recognized the hotel that I stayed at while waiting in the mid 1990s to board the boat for sailing the barrier reef. He sells boats and has a number of yacht racing trophies. Ella is an artist and mother of 4 children.

Sounds like a good trip. You should try posting some photos to Flickr or another such photo web site.

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Bruce Clarke - 2020 Yamaha XV250