Sunday, September 2, 2007

900 X 16

My helmet had been giving me problems ever since it fell off the handlebars and bounced down the road on the way south through Mexico. The visor was broken on the left side making it flap annoyingly in the wind, and it was so scratched I really couldn’t see much out of my left eye. Still I kept it all the way to Panama. This morning I glanced over my shoulder to check another road and the wind popped it off. I looked in my mirror to see it bouncing down the road, and realizing how nice it was to be able to see, I decided not to turn back for it.

I rode 900 miles that day and spent 16 hours on the bike. If I eat then I will have to go to the bathroom, which will slow me down even more, so I only stopped for gas and a small snack at a KFC in Chihuahua. I thought about getting a hotel there too, but I felt like I had a little more I decided to ride to the next town.

It was starting to get dark, and I was driving through mostly rural areas with lots of farms along side the road. When I switched on my high beam I felt like I was in lightspeed, it looked like I was driving through a tunnel of bugs. Although I was crouched low behind the windshield I couldn’t get low enough to be out of the path of the bugs. And since my visor was hundreds of miles back on the road I was constantly getting hit in the face. The best I could hope for was a reassuring splatter when they hit. If I couldn’t feel the cool bug juice running down my check after the stinging impact, then I knew there was very pissed off bug climbing around inside my helmet. Several times I had to reach into the helmet and smash one of the insects against my cheek. To keep them out of my eyes I had to keep my sunglasses on long after the sun was down. Driving through the pitch black with sunglasses on I could only see a few feet in front of me. Once bouncing over what I guess was a blown tire. I never saw it, maybe it was a stay dog I really don’t know.

Because it was dark I stopped at the first hotel I came across after leaving Chihuahua. Staggering through the door I asked, “How much for a room?” The man behind the desk replied “300 pesos ($30.00).” Maybe I was a little punchy from my long day with little food, but I thought I heard hesitation in his voice. “300 pesos is a lot for one person amigo. Do you have wireless internet or a swimming pool or Air conditioning?” They didn’t, and in a small town like this hotel’s should be going for $10-$15 not $30. Tired as I was, I knew this guy had seen an exhausted Gringo walk through his door, and thought that I would pay anything to get some sleep. I offered him $20, when he didn’t take it I said, “You know something Amigo, I’ve been traveling for 3 months and I’m tired of being charged more money just because I look different than you.” I staggered back out the door holding the frame to steady myself.

It was about an hour to the next town, where I walked into a hotel and had almost the same exact conversation, “$30 is a lot amigo…” Again it was another hour to the next town, through bug-infested roads. Where I paid $30 for a hotel, but at least they had Internet and A/C.

--Ryan

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