All the way south

It was great riding with two other people, especially two other people who were patient enough to wait for me at the Salvador border for 3 additional hours.

We drove for about 30 minutes away from the border and the sun was starting to set so we decided to follow a recommendation that Theo got from a dutch backpacker he met at the border to head to a beach house at Barra de Santiago.  We found the turn and it was an allweather gravel road for 7 km.

Earlier, we had decided that we weren’t going to take any dirt roads because of what happened to me earlier in Guatemala.  When I saw the gravel road I became very paranoid about driving down it.  In an attempt to overcome this paranoia– illogical and unfounded for El Salvador, I suggested we can give it a shot.  “We can always turn around”.

El Salvador is regarded as a much safer country than its neighbors Guatemala and Honduras.  I was positive there was no danger in this area.  I needed to get over my robbery and challenging myself with something like this what I needed.  As the cliche goes, lightning never strikes twice?

So we started driving down the gravel road.  All-weather means that the road is in good shape and you can maintain a good clip, we averaged 30mph with no problem at all.  The terrain was flat and lined with unending fields of sugar cane on both sides of the road.  The whole time I was anxious, but I kept saying to myself that it was only paranoia.  There was the occasional car or pedestrian on the side of the road.  It was just a gravel road, not a remote mountainous road like in Guatemala.

The Pacific ocean started to appear on the screen of the GPS.  We were almost there and no problems!  Success!

Barra de Santiago is a dusty little beach town.  There were gated but humble beach houses lining the main road.  As we passed people they started as if they had never seen a trio of biker-gringos before.  It was fun being the center of attention in a sleepy little town like this.  We asked a local where the hotel was and followed the directions further down the coast and eventually ended up driving the last 100 meters in soft sand.  Too bad I traded in my knobbies in Guatemala City!

Capricho Beach House was a nice little place.  Theo worked his negotion magic and knocked a few dollars off the $35/night price.  It was a steep increase from Guatemla, but it had air conditioning.

We had a great dinner of a whole fried fish and pan sautaed vegetables then went to bed.

The next day we loaded up the bikes and started driving back.  Navigating was not a problem because there is only one road out of town.  My paranoia had subsided even further because I chatted with the hotel señora and she said the road was safe.

After about 10 minutes of driving 30 mph on the all-weather road I stopped to let Theo and Bryn catch up. Snapped a few pictures and a truck where the bed was used to haul around a bunch of standing locals like livestock stopped and flagged Theo to come to the window and talk.

Not speaking spanish, Theo was eventually able to distill that there was a problem:  There were 3 people waiting in the sugar cane fields to rob us.

Crap.

The guy in the truck uses his cell phone to call the police.  The police say they don’t have a car to come help us.

We’re on our own.

This conversation was happening all without my participation.

I was chit-chatting with Bryn and started talking to two farmers who appeared out of the sugar cane field.  With machetes in hand, they started telling me how dangerous this road was and that I needed to “Cuidado”.  Heart! Starts! Racing!

The New Updated Plan which was decided by the guy in the truck was for him to drive 60 mph along this gravel road and us to stay as close as possible.

I learned of this plan when Theo screamed, “GO! GO! GO! GO!” as the truck first passed me with Theo in its wake.

As the paranoid guy who’s moment arrived, I read this for what it was– trouble.  The second the truck flew by and GO was screamed, I fired up the bike and was inhaling Salvadorian dust within seconds.  I was so terrified by the farmers’ warning that I had no problem overcoming any fear of riding 60mph offroad.  My senses were acute and I was ready to get the f’ out of there.

We cleared the remaining 5 kms in 2 minutes.

Once the main road came into view, the truck slowed down and we pulled over and said we were safe now.

Theo, the truck, and I were at the road, but no Bryn.

Crap.

10 seconds later, Bryn showed up.  Phew.

Theo, Bryn, and I had a brief screaming-through-helmet conversation of wtf is going on.  In his German accented english he screamed “Three people wanted to rob us!!”.

We exchanged a few looks and decided we needed to get out of the area.

Half an hour later we stopped and filled up with gas and talked about what happened.

We headed to Playa de Tunco, a much more developed surfer town near San Salvador, and spent a few nights there relaxing at the beach and a nice hotel.

On the way to Tunco, in El Salvador.  As unpleasant of an experience as nearly being robbed was, this drive was almost worth it.

Pregnant man buried in the sand in Tunco

The following pictures are by Theo Schlaghecken.  Please visit his blog and if you’re feeling generous, donate to his paypal account that he’s using to fund projects helping children who he meets around the world.  Most reciently he built a playground in Guatemala.  Seriously, buy a few kilometers.  I mean, it isn’t like he’s selling miles, you can afford a few KM, right?  All of his pictures are copyright Theo Schlaghecken and are only for use by his sole discretion.  Without him, I’d have no pictures of myself!

Me in Guatemala.  Check out the new shades!

The infamous Julio, aka Guaterider on advrider.  Thanks agian so much for showing me Guatemala!

Bryn, from New Zealand.  He speaks english but I could barely understand the words coming out of his mouth.  I caught on eventually, but it took a few days.  He’s in Colombia now shooting his latest motorcycle video.

Theo posing with Guatemala coffee.  This is where your best cups come from!

Unripe coffee

Traveling for 3 months through Central America is tough work.  Seriously.