The End

As I mentioned in the last post, my trip is over. This is the story of the last few days.

The previous day we had swapped out my battery for one in Danny's broken-down KTM Adventure. After riding through torrential rain, and being parked outside over night, my bike had refused to start. The (faint) hope was that once it dried out everything would be fine, the suspicion was a faulty rectifier as we'd measured an intermittent 18 volts across the terminals. The rectifier had been replaced after 12,000 miles and the bike was approaching 24,000 miles fast. Everything was fine that day and the bike started first time the next morning.

Unfortunately I then required a jump start at the first petrol stop, next stop it started fine, but on what should have been the last fuel stop of the day, it again refused to start. There was enough power to bump start it (compression is too high in the big twin cylinders to bump without some help from the starter motor). Unfortunately within a few km the dashboard turned shutdown and shortly after the engine cut out.

I was on my own at the back of our four bike crew, so was very relieved to see Andy coming back along the road. I told him there was no need to wait, it was still light and Jim could not have been more than a few hours behind in the support truck, but I was very grateful that he opted to stay with me. On removing the seat, small wisps of smoke were still coming out of the hot, swollen battery. There was no way we were going to get this going again without a new battery, and without fixing the underlying issue, any new battery would also be destroyed in around a days riding. I made plans to order the parts from the KTM dealer that was doing our servicing once we got the the US. Luckily Jim was not as far behind as we thought and we were not waiting much more than an hour. The bike was quickly loaded on to the trailer and we made our way to Acapulco, Andy sticking close to the truck as he also had electrical issues and limited power to his lights.

On arriving at the hotel we found out that other riders had had an even worse day. As Danny's bike had previously broken down, he and his pillion Becky had been riding one of Nick Sanders XT 660s. Unfortunately while trying to avoid one of the many speed bumps on the day's route, Danny and Becky had crashed. Becky was caught under a pannier and had broken her leg. She was in a local hospital, sadly the pair would not be taking any further part in the trip. While I did not realise it at the time, this was very fortunate for me. Jim did not want three bikes on the trailer and wanted me to ride the XT. If it had not been for the accident, I would have been in he truck the next day.

We had to wait for Danny to get back from the hospital before leaving and the XT was not in good shape, but the next day we rode from Acapulco to Manzanillo via Lazaro Cardenas. The first issue was nothing to do with the condition of the bike, but after hitting a speed bump I noticed I had a flat front tire. I pulled in to a local tyre shop, as they were trying to find the tools required to remove the XTs wheel Jim pulled up. A new tube was quickly fitted and I was on the road again. The bikes chain was on its last legs so it was no big surprise when it jumped off the sprockets. Andy helped me get it back on and at the next stop Paul adjusted the slack. The wheel was moved back as far as it would go, but we knew it would need adjusting again tomorrow so we planned to remove a link that evening. The route got pretty confusing at Lazaro Cardenas and we passed several riders going in different directions. We spotted Jim and together we got directions from some locals. They warned us that the route was very dangerous due to the Banditos and that we should make sure we were off the road before it got dark. It was obvious from the schedule that we would not be at the hotel in the light, but we assumed we would be able to make it to the dual carriage way sections that are well lit and generally considered safe before it got dark. Despite having no working headlights on the XT, we made it to the hotel by around 11pm.

By 1pm there was still no sign of Jim. He was not answering his phone (not unusual as it was rarely charged), so assuming he had been delayed at one of the military checkpoints we reluctantly went to bed. The next morning there was still no sign of Jim, so Nick and Caroline contacted the police. We eventually got word that Jim was at the police station in Lazaro Cardenas, but the truck and trailer, including my bike and nearly all my luggage had been stolen. We were all pretty shocked but relieved Jim was OK.

Only Jim can tell the full story, but the short version is that a pickup truck with two men dressed as police men stopped Jim shortly after we had last seen him. Two further trucks blocked the road in front and behind. Several heavily armed men wearing bullet proof jackets, carrying knives, grenades, machine and shotguns took Jim away at gunpoint. He was lead in to the jungle and held for several hours with a gun against his head as the gang discussed whether or not to kill him. Eventually they left Jim alone in the jungle.

I can't do Jim's incredible story justice, but using his knowledge of the wind direction he was able to find the coast road - the only road for several hundred kms. The passing federal police refused to help him and eventually a lorry driver took him to safety, leaving him at the local police station once it was light. The police told him he was very lucky not to have been killed, by the time he was found the police had already dealt with several other killings that morning.

So that was it, the end of my adventure. There was much discussion on how the group could nest get out of Mexico. There were pros and cons to riding in a large group, sticking to inland motorways or continuing up the coast. The only real consensus was to get out of Mexico as quickly and safely as possible. I could have continued on the XT and ridden in to the US, but a number of factors lead me to fly back to London instead.

Firstly the atmosphere in the group had changed. Some of this was due to what had happened to Jim, but there was also a knock on effect that was leading to arguments among riders and a lack of direction as a whole. Secondly all the route and schedule plans being discussed all still contained fairly long days. At a minimum we would be riding in small groups. When one person ion a group gets a mechanical problem it delays the entire group. With just 1 or two problems, such as a chain coming off or flat tyre, we could easily end up riding in the dark again - I still had no head lights. The mechanical health of the rest of the XT was severely in doubt too. In terms of able mechanics, we still had Paul Stewart, but I was worried that without a backup truck and mechanic following behind us, that I was at too high a risk of the XT breaking down and getting stuck on my own. The final deciding factor was that there was no way I was going to ride the XT to Alaska - in terms of millage we were not far past the half way mark, at best the bike would get me out of Mexico. Dreams of Prudhoe bay died when the bike was stolen.

By leaving the trip at this point I was really only losing the last few days of motorways in Mexico. So, I made the decision to fly home to friends and family. There is still a small element of regret that I did not ride out of Mexico, but on balance I know it was the right choice.

Central America

As most of the people following this blog know, my trip ended prematurely in May. After a failure in the electrical system, most likely the regulator, the bike was over charging the battery. This lead to a battery failure at the side of the road and the bike was loaded on to the support trailer around 200km South of Acapulco, Mexico. The next day the truck, trailer and my bike was stolen at gunpoint. I'll post more details of the theft, but first I'm going to back track as my previous post only takes me up to entering Central America at Panama City.

I did have a few draft posts on my laptop, but unfortunately, along with most of my other possessions this was stolen along with the bike. The end of the trip was not a pleasant experience and I have not rushed to write up my final thoughts. I'll try to recap as much as I can but I think the details will be sparse for this section of he trip.

An inevitable consequence of the local political geography and our schedule was that we would go through a border almost every day until we reached Mexico. As I've described in earlier posts, there is nothing difficult about border crossings, but they are time consuming and frustrating. From pointless, outdated bureaucracy to seemingly petty charges and bribes. The daily millage was not reduced, if anything the pace was stepped up compared to earlier in the trip. The end result of all this was much of Central America passing in a blur (often in the dark).

I feel that if I was writing about the journey through Central America in isolation, I would be talking about the stunning scenery, amazing roads and the mini adventures we had. In reality this part of the trip really was totally over shadowed by South America - multiple crossing of the Andes and the incredible Rutta 40 are a ridiculously hard act to follow, and ultimately the theft of two bikes, the support truck and Jim the drivers personal experience.

One highlight was Copan Ruinas in Honduras. How can a canopy tour by 14 zip lines, one over a kilometer long and falling off a horse not be a highlight? We arrived in Copan Ruinas looking forward to a day off the bikes. For many of us there was very little maintenance required, major work had either just been carried out or, as in my case, was scheduled for our first night in the US. The hotel was reasonable and had a nice pool. I guess he was a tout for the tour companies and restaurants who had spotted a large tour group arriving, but a local bloke called Jesus was very helpful. We arranged a horse ride up above the Mayan ruins followed by a zip line tour back down.

Everything started off sedately as we meandered along and through the river, indulging in wild west fantasies it was a fun way to get out of town and see the jungle. While others in the group appeared to manage OK when the horses decided to pick up the pace, I was not quite so lucky. I will blame it on a loose saddle rather than my lack of skill, but I ended up hanging on to the horses neck, finally sliding to the floor as he finally stopped. Vince had a similar experience and ended up with a cut lip after hitting the saddle with his face. The rest of the group were understandably amused.

The zip line tour gave us an even better view of the jungle, though the view of the ruins themselves was pretty poor. We started off on a reasonable short and slow line, though it did go over some pretty large drops over the valley below. The lines got faster and after a few shorter rides we slid down the 1 kilometer line. In reality I'm sure we not going that fast, but it felt as though we got a fair but of speed up. All too soon we were all the way down and we mounted the horses for the short trek back down the river to the town.

One other event worth mentioning was the sight of the local mafia patrolling the town in there blinged up pickup truck and chromed shotguns, not that there was ever any threatening behaviour towards us.

After the day off we continued on our journey through Honduras, Guatemala and on to Mexico.

Thoughts on the US route

Over the last few days there has been much discussion on the North American section of the trip. The original itinerary was to head for Tok in Alaska and then on to New York. The distances and time remaining mean much of this would be on dull freeways, with long hard days.

To me Tok is an odd inflection point in the route. I can understand riders wanting to get the Alaska passport stamp, or wanting to go all the way up to Prudhoe Bay, but Tok feels like an odd middle point. It is neither the quickest way to get the Alaska stamp or the top of the Pan American highway.

I've ridden twice in the US previously, my job means I will regularly visit in the future. I'm going to have more opportunities to ride the many interesting parts of the various US routes being discussed. On the other hand, I will probably never ride up to Prudhoe Bay. I will certainly never do it after having just ridden up from Ushuaia again. For this reason my personal goal is to reach Prudhoe Bay and complete the ride from the bottom to the top of the American continent.

This will add around 6 days - 3 from Tok to Prudhoe bay, and three back down. While it would still be possible to do this and then ride to New York to make the shipping date, there would be no slack time and some very long days.

There have been some organisational changes in my company while I've been away, for this reason I am now probably going to ship the bike back from Canada after reaching Prudhoe bay and then fly to San Fransisco. I can then visit the head office and meet with my managers before heading back to London. There will be some additional costs doing this, but it gives me a much easier schedule and I think it is the right thing from a work perspective too.

Panama

On arriving in Panama city, the impression from the taxi was of a modern American city. We saw many big American brand names and franchises, sky scrapers and a clean, safe city. Suddenly we left this behind and appeared to be in a post-apocalyptic world of derelict buildings, slums and heaps of rubbish. The hotel itself was not too bad at first, though more hostel than hotel.

A 5 minute taxi ride took us to the old town, and a third change in environment. This time it was colonial architecture housing posh bars and restaurants, a fitting environment to finally celebrate completing the South American section of our ride (over 8 thousand miles).

Unfortunately when we arrived back at the airport the next day (slightly hung over) to pick up our bikes, eight bikes including mine had been delayed by a day. We took the opportunity to visit the local bike shops. Phil and I now have new rear tyre (the third of the trip so far) - something I was rather worried about not finding before we reach North America.

The next day we did finally pick up our bikes, and after several hours waiting for customs to follow their bureaucracy we were on the road again. The start of our Central American section.

Bogota

The hotel owner lead us to the road that would start our last riding day in South America. While passing through town the bike was running very hot, despite the temperature being only 20C. Once we got to the mountains the bike was still 1-2 marks on the temperature gauge higher than I would expect. I put it all down to a dirty radiator or maybe slightly low water levels, so decided to ease off a bit and stop at the next garage.

We climbed higher and higher, through fog and mist. All the time dealing with a large number of trucks in both directions. As we started to drop down towards the next town the batter warning light came on. Again I decided to press on and get to the town, rather than stop on the mountain pass.

A few km further on the engine management warning light started showing intermittently. Within minutes I had no power and pulled in to stop. With flashbacks to the electrical issues I had in Morocco, I thought this could be the end of my trip. I then remembered that both Andy's Harley and Phil's KTM had both had loose battery cables and than this could be simple explanation. I unloaded and removed the seat. To my relief the positive cable was loose. We jump started the bike and I was off again. I assume the heating issues earlier were down to the fan not working due to the loose battery connection.

I also noticed lots of cyclists, complete with Lycra kit. Columbia is visibly more affluent than many of the other countries we have passed through.

On arriving at the hotel in Bogota, in a quiet neighbourhood of mid range hotels and hair dressers, there was none of the vibrancy that makes South America special. At the end of an amazing South American leg there was a slight feeling of anticlimax. Spending the next day at the airport (completing the paper work to ship our bikes to Panama) did little to improve how we felt.

Our flight the next day was scheduled for 4pm. This gave us most of the day to do a bit of shopping and visit the local bike dealers. We started with BMW, mainly a car dealer but a few riders got some of the parts they needed. Next it was on to KTM, but as we arrived we noticed there was a Triumph dealer next door.

We were given a warm welcome, and a tour of the workshop in order to show me the tires that were for sale. They were race prep'ing a Daytona 675 - the first in Columbia. I always have a soft spot for 675s as I had one as my second bike. The only rubber available was a part-used race tire, so we moved on to the KTM shop.

The KTM shop put every other KTM dealer I have visited to shame. Most of the powerparts catalogue was out on the shelves. Phil bought replacement pads and levers, we both bought new tank bags. It was a shame we did not know about this place in advance as we could have ordered new tyres and also got our servicing done if we had known. Even the soap, towel and sink in the toilet was KTM orange.

Finally we set off for Harley Davidson to pick up some parts for Andy. The dealer was located in an up market area, after leaving the dealer we had some great noodles in the restaurant opposite. There were lot of other interesting looking bars and restaurants. We barely scratched the surface of Bogota, but my impression was of a city with much to offer, rather than the claustrophobic place that had been suggested by others.

Day 2 in Columbia

Our second day in Columbia has confirmed my initial feelings, Columbia is simply spectacular. The standard of living is so much higher than else where in the region, and in a big contrast to say Chile, the people we meet are happy and eager to talk to us. We stopped for lunch at a road side restaurant after seeing smoked fish hanging over a fire. The freshness of the fish was confirmed when we saw that they all came from a small fish farm behind the owners house.

The road surfaces are often poor, but I have the right bike to deal with this. The long travel suspension soaking up the bumps with only the odd clunk from my still slightly maladjusted headstock causing issues. Eventually the twisting mountains gave way to flatter land and dual carriage way. After several hundred km of easy riding we arrived in the rough location of the hotel.

Unfortunately not one of the locals we asked really knew where the hotel was. The most intense storm of the trip then hit us. Previously I said it was like riding with a tap on over my head. This time it was like constantly having bucket of water emptied over us. The road turned in to a river and visibility was on occasion reduced to zero.

Eventually the rain subsided and after riding up and down the same road several times we eventually saw the faded sign, facing the wrong way for the directions we had, and made our way down a gravel track to the hotel. To our surprise we were the first riders to arrive.

To Columbia

After making good progress we arrived at the Ecuador / Colombian border. The Ecuador exit was quick, though in retrospect we suspect we might not have correctly exported the bikes. Entry to Columbia was also going well until a severe thunder storm struck. Several of us were waiting in the customs office, the only real problem appeared to be that they had a TV showing the royal wedding, but then after a particularly loud and close lightening strike the power went off. First it was just the lights, then the printers and photocopier and finally all the computers. This meant the process had to be completed by hand.

Many hours later we were on our way and by this time the storm had moved on (in the direction we were heading). Southern Columbia is simply spectacular. I was a little apprehensive as I knew the ride would again involve high mountain ranges with roads cut in to the steep rock faces, but the views were breathtaking.

We eventually caught up with the storm. It was like riding along with a tap constantly running over my head. We also encountered land slides and and one point had to ride through a section of road being pelted by small rocks being washed down a by a cascading waterfall.

Despite the poor weather it was still a fantastic ride and Columbia is already a highlight for me.