Monday, 12 March 2012 odometer start:7938, Day#: 15
Passage: Santiago to Penonomé
Dist: 104, Time: 6.3, Av. Speed: 15.94, Total kms: 8996
Weather: claro, caliente Wind: viento sangriento fuerteTerrain: plano con carretera doble, concreto
Having slept like a man in a coffin, my room validated this description. Ready to move on, arising at 0400, packing and kind of needing to get beyond the walls of room 606.
Leaving the motel and asking the cleaner if the local fat factory was open 24hrs he replied with an assuring Si. Anyway down the highway, it was closed , no problem, the lights on the bike were already affixed to their attachment points.
This was an opportunity to get some good k’s on the odometer in the coolness of the morning, it was still very dark. Though my headlight has a beam that is like a headlight, not just a light for motorists to see, the decision to ride on the edge of the inside lane was made, an unfortunate animal or a piece of wire could see me come to grief, there was only light traffic.
About 8k south a classic little shed with a few truckers dining on stools was spotted, the ladies as always in these places were good value, having the ability to hold their own with the hardest of characters, with some good laughter thrown in.
Two divine coffees were enjoyed and water from their cold esky.
My conversation was concentrated on the jouney ahead, you know, hills, distances, that kind of stuff. One guy dining worked on a road gang.
Moving on it felt good with a cool breeze in my face, in the dark and 25 plus k’s an hour registering on the odometer.
Every now and again a cluster of roosters was heard calling, at least they had their timing right, not like in Dario where they just crowed all night. These guys were going for it, responding to each other as they do. Which reminds me of an old joke, one of those ones you never forget probably because of its simpleness. What’s the difference between a rooster and a prostitute?
One goes cockle doodle do and the other goes any cockle do, enough of that.
Come daylight a tidy 45k were recorded. Coming across another weigh bridge, they let me weigh myself and the bike, still no weight registered, it was worth a go.
About an hour after daylight, this wind from hell hit, on the nose, 40 knots. There were times when the 2nd most lowest gear was required just to get 6k of forward motion, on flat road.
Combined with the increasing heat, it was draining to say the least.
Pulling at La Lamo to a panaderia spotted, the usual copious drink was consumed, milk, coffee, water.
Many stores encountered now are owned by chinese, this one was no exception, the guy was so nice, we spoke at length about China, Australia and Panama, he had been here 18 years.
I must have looked like something the cat bought home, my hair looked like I’d been in a wind tunnel, that is a damn good description of the highway.
He gave me yoghurt and the biggest bottle of water as I left, so nice of him, so if in Lo lama call in and say gidday, he has great cake and pastries, this being said, not because of the handouts.
Nearby a couple of face towels were bought as the during yesterdays trip my towel had blown off the handlebars unnoticed.
Battling on as the heat was building so was the wind. Water was being drunk in copious quantities. In these conditions good music or in my case some Spanish lessons on the pod were listened to for encouragement . In the end all that made forward movement bearable was good music and good thoughts.
Another prime little home cooked outlet was spotted and rested at, the ladies had a cold esky with a tap. They said don’t bother when I offered them a dollar. I explained to them I would probably drink two litres, again no problem, some chicken was ordered as gratitude for the cold water which was so welcomed in my mouth and during its passage downwards to what was becoming quite a puddle within me.
Though soon to be expelled, not standing under a tree but out there on that highway of wind, noise and dust.
I had 15k to Penonomé, at least the shoulder was good. Cashew trees were growing alongside the road, they are indeed an unusual nut, the trees are very ornamental.
Arriving there it reminded me of a frontier town, it was all new, with all the associated amenities, that consumers require, a FF, super market and many other purveyors of what some people might call crap.
The first motel, very new, was called into , they had rooms but nothing on the ground level, a must when travelling with a bike.
Six kilometers down the the road another was spotted, The Guacamaya, recommended $33/night, expensive by my standards during this journey, however being a new town this was the going rate.
It was great, the first A/C in 4 months, a real treat. The room had a window and was huge.
In hindsight, the early start this morning got me here at 1430, a later start with wind the whole passage doesn’t bear thinking about.
Tomorrow a huge colina has to be climbing just out of town, the whitish freeway contrasting with the vegetated hillside can be seen miles away following the easiest way to the top.
Passage: Santiago to Penonomé
Dist: 104, Time: 6.3, Av. Speed: 15.94, Total kms: 8996
Weather: claro, caliente Wind: viento sangriento fuerteTerrain: plano con carretera doble, concreto
Having slept like a man in a coffin, my room validated this description. Ready to move on, arising at 0400, packing and kind of needing to get beyond the walls of room 606.
Leaving the motel and asking the cleaner if the local fat factory was open 24hrs he replied with an assuring Si. Anyway down the highway, it was closed , no problem, the lights on the bike were already affixed to their attachment points.
This was an opportunity to get some good k’s on the odometer in the coolness of the morning, it was still very dark. Though my headlight has a beam that is like a headlight, not just a light for motorists to see, the decision to ride on the edge of the inside lane was made, an unfortunate animal or a piece of wire could see me come to grief, there was only light traffic.
About 8k south a classic little shed with a few truckers dining on stools was spotted, the ladies as always in these places were good value, having the ability to hold their own with the hardest of characters, with some good laughter thrown in.
Two divine coffees were enjoyed and water from their cold esky.
My conversation was concentrated on the jouney ahead, you know, hills, distances, that kind of stuff. One guy dining worked on a road gang.
Moving on it felt good with a cool breeze in my face, in the dark and 25 plus k’s an hour registering on the odometer.
Every now and again a cluster of roosters was heard calling, at least they had their timing right, not like in Dario where they just crowed all night. These guys were going for it, responding to each other as they do. Which reminds me of an old joke, one of those ones you never forget probably because of its simpleness. What’s the difference between a rooster and a prostitute?
One goes cockle doodle do and the other goes any cockle do, enough of that.
Come daylight a tidy 45k were recorded. Coming across another weigh bridge, they let me weigh myself and the bike, still no weight registered, it was worth a go.
About an hour after daylight, this wind from hell hit, on the nose, 40 knots. There were times when the 2nd most lowest gear was required just to get 6k of forward motion, on flat road.
Combined with the increasing heat, it was draining to say the least.
Pulling at La Lamo to a panaderia spotted, the usual copious drink was consumed, milk, coffee, water.
Many stores encountered now are owned by chinese, this one was no exception, the guy was so nice, we spoke at length about China, Australia and Panama, he had been here 18 years.
I must have looked like something the cat bought home, my hair looked like I’d been in a wind tunnel, that is a damn good description of the highway.
He gave me yoghurt and the biggest bottle of water as I left, so nice of him, so if in Lo lama call in and say gidday, he has great cake and pastries, this being said, not because of the handouts.
Nearby a couple of face towels were bought as the during yesterdays trip my towel had blown off the handlebars unnoticed.
Battling on as the heat was building so was the wind. Water was being drunk in copious quantities. In these conditions good music or in my case some Spanish lessons on the pod were listened to for encouragement . In the end all that made forward movement bearable was good music and good thoughts.
Another prime little home cooked outlet was spotted and rested at, the ladies had a cold esky with a tap. They said don’t bother when I offered them a dollar. I explained to them I would probably drink two litres, again no problem, some chicken was ordered as gratitude for the cold water which was so welcomed in my mouth and during its passage downwards to what was becoming quite a puddle within me.
Though soon to be expelled, not standing under a tree but out there on that highway of wind, noise and dust.
I had 15k to Penonomé, at least the shoulder was good. Cashew trees were growing alongside the road, they are indeed an unusual nut, the trees are very ornamental.
Arriving there it reminded me of a frontier town, it was all new, with all the associated amenities, that consumers require, a FF, super market and many other purveyors of what some people might call crap.
The first motel, very new, was called into , they had rooms but nothing on the ground level, a must when travelling with a bike.
Six kilometers down the the road another was spotted, The Guacamaya, recommended $33/night, expensive by my standards during this journey, however being a new town this was the going rate.
It was great, the first A/C in 4 months, a real treat. The room had a window and was huge.
In hindsight, the early start this morning got me here at 1430, a later start with wind the whole passage doesn’t bear thinking about.
Tomorrow a huge colina has to be climbing just out of town, the whitish freeway contrasting with the vegetated hillside can be seen miles away following the easiest way to the top.
Cashews, fascinating
The mornings chore, south of Penonomé, on the way to the coast
|
Cashew tree, roadside
|
