Fashion Statement 101
What a day! Lots of pictures and many tales to tell.
My guide for bicycling through the rain forest met me at the hotel promptly at 7:00. I took to Carlos immediately, a very affable fellow who bike rides 3 or 4 times a week if his schedule as a flight attendant for Copa Airlines allowed it. He also has his single engine pilot's license and plans to get a multi-engine license. Not out of a kind of ugly American arrogance, but because of the large American presence in Panama for so many years, I was surprised how few Panamanians spoke English. This was certainly not the case with Carlos. He said he learned some in elementary school but I was impressed to learn that he was basically self-taught, picking up a lot from watching TV. His English was certainly MUCH better than my Spanish, which I still hope to master one of these days.
We were on our bikes by 7:45 and mine was certainly of a much better quality than the bikes I rode the past two days on the Causeway.
First stop. Five minutes into the trip. A bit out of breath from the first climb but still clean and mud-free.
Carlos started off at a quick pace and the trail wasted no time going uphill; I could see I was in for quite a work out and wondered if I bit off more than I could chew committing to 16 kilometers (about 10 miles) of mountain biking on some rather challenging terrain. (As it would turn out, it was basically 3.5km uphill to the top of the ridge, down the other side for 4.5km down where we would turn around and reverse our steps.) I was thankful for our first stop, a waterfall, just about 5 minutes into the trip as it allowed me to catch some much needed breath.
We were off again and I seemed to be acclimating rather quickly not only breathing-wise but to navigating the rocks and roots that pock-marked the trail. About 10 minutes later, a most curious thing happened. We were climbing a pretty good grade and I pulled up along Carlos, passing him as I pulled the handlbars over a root. I had momentum and didn't want to stop; it seemed as if he was having technical difficulties with his pedal. He said to keep going. So, I kept going and going, stopping occassionaly for him to appear from whence I just came. I eventually came to a clearing at the top of our long rise and stopped to rest and take a picture of what looked like a bear clinging to a tree. I keep forgetting to ask but I think it may be some sort of mold or nest. Still no Carlos so I thought it best to head back down to make sure he was all right. I met him about halfway back and it turned out that he had been feeling rather dizzy and had to take a break. No rush, I said. We'll just take our time. He told me to continue on and he would catch up with me on the downhill side of the trail.
With Carlos well behind, I had time to get some good shots of the farmer ants. Like sunrises and shooting stars, I don´t think I will ever tire coming across them and watching them. I made a point of carrying the bike over their trail as I couldn't see myself running over them.
Riding in the rain forest was all I had hoped it would be; very intimate and a wonderful feeling to cover so much ground relatively quickly. It did take a bit of getting used to watching the trail and being aware of the surroundings. I thought it would be a miracle if I didn't end up on the ground at some point, especially riding downhill where the thick canopy made it hard for me to clearly make out the rocks and roots. But, the more I rode the more comfortable I got and I became good at catching sounds off in the jungle. One time there was a very large bird, about the size of a vulture, that flew from one branch to another. And, of course, there was the flora.
Seeing a Bird of Paradise gives it added beauty than when viewing it in a domesticated setting.
This seemed to be a variety of an African violet.
Carlos caught up with me and we planned to catch another trail that would take us about another 8 kilometers. But, it turned out to be poorly maintained so after about a kilometer we headed back.
Fairly quickly, I was on my own again and it afforded me time to stop and follow by foot a stream which came to a small, pretty waterfall. If one were apt to do so, it seemed as if the best way to bushwhack into the interior of the jungle would be to follow a creek bed.
I believe this was some sort of fungus growing on the tree.
Mushrooms with the largest being slightly more than an inch across.
Back at the parking lot, we loaded up his vehicle and headed for another trail...and some real adventure.
I'm feeling really sorry for Carlos as we try to deal with this situation and figure out how to get the wheel back on. All the lugs are gone and two of the bolts broke. His jack will only hoist the vehicle up a few inches, far short of creating enough space to get the tire back on.
Irate (American?) driver on left, Panamanian, with cap, on left.
I take off one lug from each of the other three wheels while Carlos has to endure an irate driver telling him that his jacking attempts are futile and he needs to just slowly drive the vehicle off the bridge as to clear traffic. But, something interesting happens. An older Panamanian comes over with another jack exactly like the one Carlos has. The two of them start talking and someone else joins in as well. They are figuring out how they can get the Rover raised to one height then use the other jack to raise it higher.
Eventually, the vehicle is raised high enough to get the tire on and we slowly move off the bridge and to the side of the road. We discussed the options and realized after another bolt broke when Carlos attempted to tighten a lug, that the Rover isn´t going anywhere. Carlos tells me to take the bike and ride down to the other trail, check it out and come back in about an hour and a half. Meanwhile, he will make some calls and figure out what to do.
I head down the paved road about 1.5km until I hit a dirt road which eventually leads me to The Pipeline Trail. This trail used to be a road used long ago for transport and the Americans had training exercises down it. It wanders through the rain forest as well, but the wider path and more gravely nature of the trail took away from the more intimate feel of the first trail. Still, I was enjoying the ride and there was a more adventurer feel to the ride since I was completely solo.
A short ways down, I heard something up in the trees and there was a lone howler monkey. He/she wasn't interested in howling but eating. Again, I took several pictures but none came out. I watched for several minutes while it hopped from branch to branch snatching fruit way up high.
I watched the one above land on a leaf and slowly crept closer with the camera ready to click away when it took off again. It tested my patience for several minutes before finally taking flight. I had the camera on continuous mode and held the shutter down while it flew about. Like taking a picture of a ghost, I came up with nothing but blurs.
It rested again and this time I kept the camera in one position rather than trying to follow it. As a result, I could only get a distant shot. A much better camera, set in one place, and lots of patience would eventually produce some very gorgeous photographs.
On the way back, I spotted these very large diamond signs that faced the canal. When I got back to the Rover, Carlos said that it was a navigational tool for the captains of the ships. Note the lamppost and that will some indications of the size of these signs.
Also on the way back, I rode parallel with the ship below. A rather cool feeling to actually gain and then pass it.
Back to where I left Carlos. Another vehicle was there, a friend that Carlos had called to take me back to the hotel. Before I left, his father showed up as well as a mechanic who, hopefully, would be able to fix the missing bolts and get Carlos on his way. I forgot to get contact information for Carlos so I'm not sure how everything turned out. I will say that I am glad all his misfortunes that day occurred while I was with him as I hope I made it easier for him to deal with it since they didn't bother me in the least. I certainly felt he was a very capable guide and would have no hesitation recommending him or using him again.
On the drive back, another one of the old city buses destined for some another life. Almost all these buses have different designs and I wish I could have captured more of them on film.
The wonderful day was topped by dinner with Kadhir and his wife and daughter, Dora and Andrea, at a wonderful Peruvian restaurant. He had taken Rachel around in Old Panama during the day while I was out riding. We were so fortunate to hook up with him as it made our stay in Panama very special.
(That's Rachel with the curly hair.)
One last note on Panama. I knew the Americans controlled the canal but I didn't realize that they owned a good swath of land on both sides of the canal for its tire distance. Also, around Panama City, the American presence was very large as buildings lined the area around the canal for several miles.
8 October Ride: 3hrs. 40mins. 20 mountain biking miles. Miles YTD: 7,034.39
No comments:
Post a Comment