Panama!!!

"Should we go to Panama?" Tam asked me this morning as we stood facing the road, packed and ready to go.  "Yep," I replied, grinning.  We were ready to take on the next country, our last in Central America.  But it wasn't that easy.  About 30 km of shoulderless, trafficked road lay between us and the border, and while we knocked it out pretty quickly, it certainly was stressful.  Trucks and buses and whatnot.  Anyway, the border still snuck up on us and the bureaucracy wasn't too tough to negotiate, so soon we had our feet on the soil (ahem, pavement) of Panama!  The road was much wider than that on the Costa Rican side, all the trucks were forced to wait at the border, and we had a tailwind, so, despite the humidity, we enjoyed the ride.  Yet, as we approached the city of David, Panama's second-largest, our shoulder turned to gravel and the traffic increased to the point of being an almost continuous line. The last few kilometers were slow while navigating the shoulder and the trucks, and finally we made it into the city, where we're staying at a hostel.  

I didn't take any pictures today, so here's one from the archive:

End of the Dalton Highway, northern Alaska

Tonight was spent planning: there's only one road that connects here with Panama City, and it's under construction for about 200 km, so we hear, and then very busy near the city.  Not too many riding options.  As for tomorrow, we're going to head north into the mountains, to, and perhaps past, Boquete.

Quetzal! April 21-23

April 21st

There's free oatmeal and bananas for breakfast at the hostel this morning. We fuel up and then set out to begin the long climb to the mountain town of Boquete. The road we're on, strangely enough, is paved better than the Pan-am, with four lanes, a shoulder, and very minimal traffic. We see lots of other cyclists out (I imagine that this is a popular big hill climb) and some road signs that inform cars to respect cyclists. I'm happy with our choice of road. 

The climb is very gradual and the clouds have cleared enough that we have a view of the jagged volcano we're hoping to climb tomorrow. Otherwise, the scenery is unremarkable. The most exciting thing that happens on the way up is that we hit the 10,000 mile mark of our entire journey! Woohoo! 

Once in Boquete, we inquire about climbing the volcano and the other well known trail in the park, Sendero de Los Quetzales (Trail of the Quetzals.) We are told that a guide is required for both and that the cost is $65 per person. We decide to ignore this and go explore further on our own. 

Slowly we start to climb up and away from Boquete. Slowly, because the road has one incredibly steep hill after another. The pain in our legs is compensated by the beautiful scenery. We see only a few houses and cars. Mostly it's just us, the birds singing, and a clear gurgling river. 

After some tough biking we reach the turnoff to the park ranger station and soon after I see a sign for a campground. Here we stop to ask for information and find out that we are in fact on the wrong road to climb the volcano; that road started back in Boquete! Not about to turn around after we had come so far, we decide to relinquish our dreams of climbing the volcano and instead continue another couple kms to the Sendero de Los Quetzales. 

The last few kms are the steepest. We end up pushing our bikes up the last big hill as it starts to rain.

Pushing up the last bit

And then, there's the ranger station! A bright, friendly-looking, two-story cabin painted in warm yellow with green waves.

The ranger station, our tent out front

Out rushes the ranger, Carlos, to greet us as if we were old friends. Carlos has been working here for 12 years and says he can't remember anyone else biking up here; everyone else comes in car or bus. He's a fantastically nice guy. Forget the park fees, we can camp anywhere, or sleep in the bunk beds upstairs, we can heat water on the stove to make dinner, borrow his bird book, and that $65 required guide? No, we can hike wherever, whenever we want. 

What an amazing haven from the now-pouring rain! This is more than we ever could have expected. So many thanks to Carlos! We spend a wonderful evening sharing stories and watching birds. 

As we go to sleep, fireflies start to flow and dance among the dense, damp jungle foliage. 

April 22nd

We wake up early to the sound of birds singing. How wonderful it was to sleep somewhere where it actually gets cold at night! Carlos unfortunately is leaving today for his time off, but he leaves us his key so that we can store our bikes safely while we go out to hike. (Not that we're very worried about them out here.) We say goodbye, then head out. We spend the whole day hiking a little over 4 kms, because we are moving so slowly. There are just too many birds to see! Over the course of the day we see 18 new species (check out the bird list) including several three-wattled bellbirds and elusive resplendent quetzals! The trail is quite beautiful as well. At first we walk through farmland. (I know- it's odd that farmland is part of this national park but the farms were there before the park and the government couldn't kick these people out. Plus the cut in the woods makes for good birdwatching!)

Then we enter denser forest, following, and occasionally crossing clear-flowing rivers and streams. We return hungry and tired, and so happy that we made the mistake of coming here and didn't end up slogging to the top of the volcano today.

A special moment (if you like birds):

The forest is densely green on either side of us, and somewhere in the greenery a thrush is singing its ethereal song. As we squelch through the mud, we try to listen closely for the sound of the quetzal. Perhaps if we hear one we'll be able to find it. Then, suddenly we spot a large green bird soaring through the trees ahead of us. That long tail is unmistakable- it's a quetzal! It stops, I see it! It's perched on a tree right next to the trail.

iPhone + binoculars = quetzal!

We scramble to get a good look at him, but he ends up sitting there for a while and just letting us observe.  The feathers on this bird are so brilliantly colored that they shine like polished gems, stark against the duller green foliage. The long tail coverts blow gracefully in the wind and look rather like the trail to a fancy gown. He sits, slowly moving his head back and forth. Then suddenly, he's in the air again and vanishes instantly, back into the canopy of green. 

We feel lucky to have shared some time with this magnificent bird, free and wild in its natural habitat. 

April 23rd, A day conducted at high speed. 

It's raining when wake up but slowly clears as we get ready to go. Too soon, it's time to say goodbye to our mountain home; we hop on our bikes and head downhill. The way down goes considerably faster than the way up. In fact we have to stop several times to let our rims cool down! In Boquete we stop only briefly to fill up water and mail some postcards, then it's time for another 35kms or so of downhill back to David. The road is perfect- just the right grade that you don't have to hit the brakes, and you're still going exhilaratingly fast. 

Back in David we attempt to find a vegetarian restaurant recommended by our guide, but can't find it and end up settling on large plates of rice and lentils from a slightly sketchy looking cafeteria instead. Then, on to the bus station. We have decided to take a bus from David to Santiago because several other cyclists that we met on the road and recent blogs have informed us of the awful and dangerous 200km long construction zone between these two places. 

Danny loading the bikes on top of the bus. 

Driving through it, I'm certainly glad we took the bus. There is no shoulder, just loose gravel, machinery or piles of rocks. The road is in various stages of construction, ranging from new pavement to giant holes in the road. Three things I observe seem to convey the state of things. 

1) A worker, hammering in a stake with a large black mallet, stops as the head of the mallet falls off. 

2) A worker attempts to throw a can of spray paint to others on top of a very large scaffolding... And misses. 

3) A sign: "Tramo en Construction" knocked over with tire marks on it.

Of course, there clearly was a lot of good work getting done as well. The much expanded road that will be completed at some point in the future will certainly be a lot nicer than the current one, and probably even good for cycling. 

The bus ride itself isn't too uncomfortable. The driver plays music so loudly that you have the feeling of being in a dance club, and accelerates to the point at which it sounds like the vehicle is about to take off. But, there is air conditioning! And really, nothing else besides that matters. 

Arriving in Santiago goes better than I ever could have expected. The fire station is a block away from the bus station and the guys there are happy to let us camp. They show us the bathroom, shower, and give us a huge mango and giant plates of rice for dinner! The station has wifi, and also happens to be conveniently across from a large super market and hardware store. I wish every city were this easy. 

Osa Peninsula, April 14-19

We had a great week with Tam's parents in the backyard of Corcovado National Park.  Thanks for treating us to such a wonderful vacation!  Here are some photos from our time there, all taken by Andie and Michel:

Iguanas on the deck

Tam catching a wave

Spider monkey

White-nosed Coati

Going for a hike

Some kind of flag bug. Look closely; those red spots are part of its legs.

And, on our last night, a beautiful sunset, a rainbow, and a rare glimpse of the endangered, nocturnal Baird's Tapir!

After taking another day in Puerto Jimenez to see off Michel and Andie and organize our stuff, we hit the road early the next morning.  The sun kept getting hotter and the hills steeper until an early afternoon downpour cooled things off.  Nothing much of note happened after that, except for a hilarious phone call with our friend Gus, and we find ourselves now in the little town of Rio Claro.  Panama tomorrow!

There was (still is, as I'm writing this) an iguana in the shower!

Rica Costa Rica, April 10-13

The road out of Jaco follows the Costa Rican coast south for hundreds of kilometers.  We woke up in our air conditioned room well rested and ready to take on the heat, and we knocked out over 65 kilometers of flat road before lunch.  There wasn't much to see, just huge palm plantations, rows and rows of orderly, swaying fronds that would eventually end up as palm oil.  

We passed a factory, too, its towers belching smoke.  I had heard about biologically rich forests being cleared for palm oil plantations in Indonesia and other tropical countries, and although Costa Rica has done a great job of protecting its natural resources, it was disappointing to see that kind of deforestation here, too, in this biologically diverse place.  

Remember that scene from Castaway where Tom Hanks, finding himself marooned on a small, tropical island, starts to hear strange thumping sounds in the night?  We heard that exact sound right after we lay down in our tent, which we had set up under some swaying palms in the sleepy surf town of Dominical.  The source of the sound, like in the movie, was a coconut, which fell from a height of 50 feet or so and landed right next to us.  We moved the tent a few feet away from the tree, yet a few minutes later, when a massive frond fell and speared the empty tent next to ours, we moved way out to the beach.  Far from the reach of murdurous palm trees, we fell asleep to the sound of crashing waves.

6:30 am.  Sweating again.  Time to get up.  Numerous hills quickly left us with sweat beading all over, but the road was wide and the riding decent. Two older cyclists from Germany, Silke and Klaus, crossed our path in the late morning, heading north from Panama.  When they said that they were keeping a blog so their children and grandchildren could follow their adventures, we laughed; it's the opposite for us!  They have toured in Cuba for a bit and are now making their way north to Nicaragua, and we swapped info about the road ahead.

The afternoon was like a different day: clouds and rain damping the heat, and a much narrower road.  As the sun started to set, we arrived at the side road to Puerto Jimenez, where we would be meeting Tam's parents the next morning!  Rather than having them drive to pick us up, or try to bike the 76 km early tomorrow morning, we hopped on a bus, hoping to surprise them at the airport.  Unfortunately our location app gave us away, although, surprise or not, it was great to see Andie and Michel when they got off the plane.  We then drove with them way out on the Osa Peninsula, basically to the end of the road, where we will be staying for a relaxing week at an eco-lodge next to Corcovado National Park!  

Water, Sand, Rainforest

Andie and Tam

High Weight, High Rep Cycling, April 8-9

Our quiet abode in the woods behind, we began the long climb up to San Ramon.  Though the grades were insane- at least 10% on the majority of the hills- I rather liked going up.  When the hills add up to a view, rather than immediately descending, and the temperature gets cooler, and the valley stretches out under you... well, call me masochistic, but I like to climb!  The top of this mountain was shrouded in clouds, and as I had hoped the whole time we were ascending to reach them and have some respite from the heat, I was glad when the mists took over, their ethereal arms grasping the air and whipping it around.  Though there was no view, our bodies rejoiced in the coolness, and as we neared the top, an unexpected surprise materialized out of the fog: a cheese stand!  We stopped, of course, and tried the local products, which we found tasty and similar to the stringy Oaxaca Mexican cheese.

Just under the cloud layer

The short descent brought us to San Ramon, a small city with a nice little park.  We started talking with a guy named Oscar, who was friendly but turned out to be an incorrigible racist.  He told us with satisfaction how all the Nicaraguans and Guatemalans are very bad, very bad indeed, especially those indigenous folks, watch out for them!  We countered with equal delight that we had just come through those countries and had met a lot of wonderful people but none of those that he was referring to.  I would like to think that we changed his point of view, that maybe he'll see the Nicaraguans in a different light now, but realistically, I doubt it.  It's tough to internalize the experiences of others.

After our chat with Oscar, we headed out to the fire station, where we asked if they might let us camp in their yard.  The firemen, the bomberos, showed us around and were so incredibly welcoming, even to the point that they apologized for not being able to offer us a bed!  We made them cookies as thanks (Tam made them cookies as I excitedly hovered and managed not to mess anything up).

Massive cookie, shape open to interpretation 

I was planning today on a long descent to the ocean.  I could not have been more wrong.  The hills were so numerous and so steep that we had to take breathers every few hundred yards to rest our tired legs, and the downhills, equally steep and equally challenging for our cramping hands and burning rims, provided enough excitement for the rest of the day.  And this wasn't even the stretch the bomberos had warned us about; that was next.  Or, it would have been next, but we chose the road more traveled instead, the big toll road.  Bikes aren't technically allowed on the toll roads, but that's never stopped us before, and we didn't have a problem today.  The descent from there was as I had imagined it originally, all the way down to the ocean after crossing a bridge and counting over 30 crocodiles in the river below.  I'll be doing all my swimming in salt water from now on.

Though the heat was as oppressive as ever, we gradually made our way south and ended up in the town of Jaco, where, after swimming in our own sweat for the last five hours, we couldn't bear to spend a noisy, sweaty night in the tent and found an inexpensive hotel that inexplicably offered air conditioning!  I've found my limit of discomfort, and it is sweating all day and all night.

Our location in Jaco.  We're going to follow the coast south over the next few days.