How I learned to stop worrying and love the Bike

Guest Bloggers: Andrea and Julia

Guest Bloggers, you ask? Yes. Guest Bloggers that are forever indebted to their knights in shining armor. Well, knights in shinning motorcycles, at least. Julia and I met Ryan and Mitch at the aguas termales, thermal hot springs, just southwest of the town of Gracias in Western Honduras. Julia and I hail from New York City and came to Honduras searching for adventure and to get as far from the beaten path as possible. Turns out we got more than we bargained for.

Prior to our encounter with Ryan and Mitch, we spent a few days in and around Copan, gawking at the Mayan ruins and learning the more colorful bits of Mayan culture and history that were omitted from our public education. The Mayans were an awfully productive community considering the civilization was ‘shrooming for over 1,000 years.

Three bus rides and 5 hours later, Julia and I to eventually made our way from Copan to Gracias. We spent over 5 hours in the back of decrepit school buses that have not passed safety tests for at least 35 years, practically sitting on the laps of some unlucky fellows. Since I caught a mild bug and ran a fever the previous night, we decided to take it easy and spend our evening at the aguas termales just out of town. We inquired around town and all the locals agreed that the hot springs were lovely and easily accessible. We hailed a tuk-tuk (yes, that's what they are called in Thailand, not Honduras. However, I have not heard anyone call these little golf carts anything of interest, therefore I will continue to call them tuk-tuks) and ventured out on a daunting dirt road leading to the hot springs. A road that would be totally sweet to take my mountain bike on, but was a bit of a killjoy in our un-shock absorbent tuk-tuk. The ride took forever, but we made it to our destination.

Shortly after submerging into the warm embrace of the hot springs, Mitch and Ryan came over and introduced themselves. Lovely conversation and several hours later, Ryan was kind enough to offer us a ride back to town. Immediately I felt my stomach turn. And then drop. I had only worn a bathing suit, skirt, t-shirt, and Chacos- hardly protective gear. Plus, that road was scary enough via tuk-tuk during daylight. Besides, riding off in the dark with a man I’ve only just met in a foreign country sounds like the plot to some B-Horror movie. Or maybe just an urban legend. Either way, I hardly knew these men. How could I put my life or Julia’s in their hands?

Looking around, I realized we didn't have many options for getting back to town as the other bathers seemed to have left and tuk-tuks were not as readily available as we were led to believe. It took a heck of a lotta convincing, but I realized it was the best option. Ok, our only option. I swear I could hear my dad telling me I’d be an idiot to get on that Donor-cycle. I guess my dad raised an absolute idiot. I wondered if being a registered organ donor in New York carries over international boundaries?

I didn't realize Ryan drove a Beamer. Ladies and Gents, it’s quite a sexy bike. More importantly, it looked like it could handle the ruts, rocks, and divots in the road. I didn't pay much attention to Mitch or Julia because I am selfish and extremely self-centered. Julia could fend for herself, right? Hmm, ok, so I was terrified and hadn’t felt this way since probably the last stupid thing I did. But Ryan assured me that Mitch would be very cautious with Julia in tow. Geez, what a relief!

Ryan, always the gentleman, gave me his helmet to wear. Lacking more excuses, I hopped on the back of his bike, wrapped my arms around him, and then proceeded to break at least 4 of his ribs. I kid, I joke. I only broke two. Ryan is a steady driver who finds his line and doesn’t panic. I admit, after a few minutes, I loosed my vice-like grip and just enjoyed the ride. A pretty sweet ride. Please note: Ryan is an absolute saint to have put up with some loony chick from New York freaking out on him and yelling obscenities in his ear. The man has patience, I tell ya. As for Mitch, this wasn’t Julia’s first rodeo. She didn’t make a fuss like me.

But Wait! There's more! Yes folks, the drama continues. After parking their bikes into their fancy hotel parking lot, the fellows insisted on walking us home. Of course I got us lost and we took a very long walk around a very small town to end up at the supremely budget hostel that Julia and I had decided to stay at. A hostel that both the management and the guide books failed to mention locked its front door at 9 PM. Promptly. As it was past 11 PM, once again Mitch and Ryan came to our rescue and told us we could crash at their hotel room .

Unfortunately for the boys, Julia got violently ill and spent the entire night in the bathroom vomiting and with diarrhea explosiva. With thin walls, I don’t think anyone slept through this ordeal. Also, Julia’s illness coincided with a broken water pump in town, so the hotel did not have any water or plumbing for the night. The bathroom was a disaster. Julia was dehydrated. I ran around the courtyard and hotel, scavenging whatever supplies I could gather: empty flower pots (Ok, I emptied them), a bucket of water in a tool shed (Yes, I broke in. But it was an emergency), and other items that might be able to alleviate poor Julia’s discomfort. Mitch and Ryan were so kind and understanding throughout the entire ordeal .

Readers, I am not sure how many people would have been as kind and generous to us as the protagonists of this epic tale. It’s not that I don’t have faith in people. But people have limits. Just like Paul Bunyan and Johnny Appleseed before them, Ryan and Mitch are true legends. At least in our book.


As a side note, the next day I ventured out on rougher terrain with the boys, got hooked on the adrenalin rush, and gradually felt comfortable enough to hold a camera with one hand while the other only lightly grasped Ryan’s shoulder. But that’s just my version.