Adentro y afuero

There are many roads to ride but at this point in life, here are a few pic's of my home in Heredia, Costa Rica:
Adentro:
Afuero:


Paz

The Summer Day (Mary Oliver)

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

When life hands you lemons...

You might as well have a margarita.
con arroz mariscos...
The HOG went into cardiac arrest on Thursday morning as I left Managua, Nicaragua for the Costa Rica border. After tearing apart the throttle on the side of the road in an attempt to wake her up, I realized that we were going to have to limp back to the closest HD dealer, in Managua, now about 50 miles back. So we did. At 20 miles per hour for 50 miles. Longest twenty miles ever.
Over the next two days and several unsuccessful attempts to fix the problem, I got to know these Nica hermanos really well. We spent Friday night celebrating the final fix. Theses guys stuck around 'till just about 9pm in the evening to make it happen. Great people. I cant say enough about my brothers at this HD dealership. They were determined to get a fix and tore into the bike thoughtfully and purposefully. They also let me hang out in the shop with them the whole time, so I learned quite a bit. (Try and see if that will ever happen in the States!)
Anywho, I am about a half an hour away from the Costa Rica border now watching the sun set over the Pacific saluting all of you. Salud!
I have secured an apartment in the mountain town of Heredia, Costa Rica. It's about a twenty minute ride from the big city of San Jose. I will arrive in Heredia tomorrow early afternoon, assuming the border crossing goes smoothly, and move in immediately. Will spend the next month here, minimum, to look at some potential business, work opportunities and to also just get to know some folks. The HOG has been on the road just about every day since November 28th of 2008. She has carried me almost 15000 miles. I suppose she is due some rest. I look forward to paying some more attention to all of you from afar and to also get to know a beautiful city here in Costa Rica. (If you can, please come visit, the apartment has two bedrooms)!
Oh, before I forget; Because mi hermano felt so strongly about Che', this parting shot is for you. Te Amo hermano!Paz.

Road ramblings...

As you can see in this picture, the rear end of the HOG is overloaded.
Including my weight, the bike is over it’s “book” weight capacity by about 20%. As you can guess, it handles differently. None of the weight moves with me, it’s all dead weight. It makes the front end light and really nervous. I have known this since leaving Denver a few weeks ago. I recognized that I just wasn’t going to be able to push it. No problem.
Until I get a few hours north of the Guatemala border. I came across the most beautiful, freshly blacktopped, sea level jungle road that climbed to a beautiful pine forest, into the mountains at about 7000 ft. (according to the Garmin) The road was filled with switchbacks and wide fast sweepers with just enough traffic to make it even more of a challenge and to my #1 on the best road ever ridden list. My jaws are still aching from smiling so wide.
Here is a section of the road: Just as I was coming into the last sweeper, I hit the only damn two inch deep, three by three foot patch of scratch in the last fifty miles dead center with my front wheel, coming into the turn about 70mph. All hell broke loose, but for some reason, and fortunately, I became really calm. (Must be from all the years in Social Services). I backed off the throttle just a bit, grabbed the tank with my knees, looked immediately in my bouncing mirrors, looked for a line to take, and fought like hell with the front end to keep from bouncing and wobbling completely out of control.
There are no cages in the mirrors, which is a good thing, because it’s certain the HOG is going to come out of the turn too wide. We are definitely going to go off the road. If I can keep it from going more than a couple of feet off the road, which is about all there is before a drop off into a culvert, am thinking we will make it through the turn. So willing there to be no sand in the patches of grass along side the road, I fight the HOG from going over too far. Using every inch of the space, and dancing on the drop off line for a good twenty feet the HOG finally calms down, and we make it through. Sweet. Maybe am getting old, but these moments are better than, ahh never mind. You wont read that here…Lavanderia
Sometimes good things come in the smallest of packages. For instance, what is it about freshly done laundry, still warm from the dryer, that just does you good? It's along the same lines as chocolate chip cookies in the oven but with out the sugary sweetner. I am not real sure what it is but I am here to bear witness that Mexico has the perfect recipe. It’s a combination of neat folds in all the right places, a clean and easy scent, and most importantly, the effort they put into it. Every time I have had my clothes laundered in Mexico, they ask if I have any special instructions at drop-off. At pick up they tell me what was or wasn’t working with a particular piece of cloth and offer to do more. When I picked up my laundry tonight, they were upset they couldn’t completely remove an oil stain on the knee of my jeans. They wanted to do one more thing but would have to keep my pantelones ‘till the morning. Looking at the pants, I couldn’t see a thing and said, No, pero muchas, muchas gracias para tu trabajo. She then went on to tightly wrap them all up in a nice hot little bundle and I was on my way. These folks are serious about taking care of textiles.
Pollo.
It’s just chicken up North. You pick it up from the store, throw it on the grill, or fry it, bake it, barbeque it, roast it, broil it, and it all comes out pretty good. It’s not glamorous but it works. You cant go wrong with a meal that includes chicken.
In Mexico, specifically in the south, chicken has glamour. They raise them to be the best of the best and they offer them up on a plate demonstrating it. Again, there must be some kind of special secret to how they prepare them but you wont be able to get enough of it.
Pushing limits, and now Mexican Chicken and Mexican Laundry are three of my favorite things.
Paz.

HOG tied and strangled...

I had been noticing my mileage getting really bad, at all speeds, so pulled off the air cleaner, the easiest thing to check first, and BINGO, there was the problem. The filter was coated with oil and the fastening bolt area was punctured, which created a good size hole in the filter near the oil vapor lines, (somebody went a little crazy with the tork wrench).
Poor HOG, she could barely breath over the last couple of hundred miles. I patched it up, called up the nearest HD dealer on the Garmin, and picked up a new filter and another spare shifter rod this morning. Rode her all day on some back country roads and she is back to normal. I am glad it happened now rather than later as the HD dealerships get fewer and farther in between the further south you get.
Should be in Victoria tomorrow; then just a three or four day ride to the Guat. frontera.
Paz