Cruisin' down the freeway in the hot hot sun

Well, sometimes it is quite hot, but we've had the double-edged fortune of cloud-cover. Several of our afternoons have been cut short by torrential downpours despite our attempts to skip lunch breaks and try to outrun it. Luckily, the people of Panama have taken excellent care of us along the way, so we've managed to stay comfy and dry.

So where were we...the school. We provided lots of entertainment for the kids who arrived early in the morning for Saturday band practice, mostly in the form of peering at us though the cement block windows and giggling hysterically at their stealthiness. They then began tiptoeing around the classroom where we were to sneak in the back door. Oh man, that's what we get! Once we were all packed up we chatted with them all for a while and then headed out.

The road was up and down to Remidios, but we had a good shoulder most of the way, one of the things that makes or breaks our riding experience. Other things that we have come to appreciate: chairs, showers, potable water, dark chocolate. Anyway, as the threat of rain approached replete with thunder and lighting, we decided to ask yet another school for a bit of help. At the Chiriqui Technical School we were lucky enough to find people working on a reconstruction project. There we met Osvaldo and Rosemary and, after talking about everything from poverty to indigenous languages we settled in for the night. We cooked an *amazing* meal - rice, lentils, carrots and potatoes all mashed together into oblivion. It was a tough choice that evening - rice...or pasta. Rice...or pasta.

While Osvaldo was out caring for the grounds, we read ourselves to sleep. Eric is rereading The Fountainhead (sorry Patrick, he read it first) so as to avoid rereading the Central America Lonely Planet. I am reading Paula by Isabel Allende. It was recommended to me by a friend we met in Oaxaca, and it is so good that I am savoring it slowly. One page I'm in tears, the next I'm LMAO. It is an amazing exercise in emotional breadth. And for the record, I'm finally old enough to have more than just one favorite book. The Stranger, Crime and Punishment, A Farewell to Arms, and now Paula. The Life of Pi may have had a place here, but I got mad at the ending.

After sleeping soundly in Remedios our next stop was not so lucky. Damn those roosters. Seriously. No one needs to get up at 2:00 AM. No one needs to hear those scraggled, pitiful attempts at a crow. And, for those of you who don't know, cocks are call-and-response animals: one starts, and all others within earshot think it is their ultimate duty to start shrieking too. Ay, our tent does not take into account the noise factor of Latin American semi-rural camping. Oh, and all this was after being kept awake by the night-shift police officers watching 300 just a few meters away. Nothing like CG gore to give one sweet dreams.

So the rooster thing was quite unfortunate, but our stop in Los Ruizes was actually very pleasant. After laboriously working our way up and down steep hills reminiscent of Sonora, Mexico, we stopped at a bus stop just when it seemed that we would have not an instant of dry weather left. The clouds held their breath, fooling us for a minute, but just as we were convinced that we might still have a chance it began to pour. We drowned our sorrows in delicious $1.75 plates of rice, beans, beef, and fried banana, and acquiesced to the situation. No more riding for the day. We crossed the street to the police station, got the ok to set up shop under their thatch-roof, and set about buying food like ship-wreck survivors. For all of you who don't know, the Joneses are vultures and hoarders when it comes to food, and if there is sugar involved the claws really come out. For example, I cut up some pineapple for dessert before dinner. As I ate one innocent preview chunk Eric snarled, "Fine, so YOU get to eat one but not me!" We laughed when we realized how deep our affliction goes. So we had gone most of the day without proper nutrition, due to it being Sunday and a particularly deserted stretch of highway. After desperately eating oatmeal for lunch we were lucky to find Los Ruizes in real life even though it wasn't on our map. The moral of the story is that we bought and ate massive amounts of white bread. We actually went so far as to eat cookies and wash them down with soda.

After saying goodbye to the police we enjoyed a beautiful downhill ride through pine trees, clouds, and grassland. We arrived at Los Boquerones in the afternoon and decided to ask yet another school if we could hang for the night. Luckily they told us no, because that gave Luz Maria the opportunity to whisk us away to her small, cozy house filled with friends and family. Her son Humberto showed us the way, and there we met her daughter Lesly. They both made us feel right at home! After settling in we were fed dinner (bacon was involved!), and then we all sat and chatted in the living room about our trip, politics, family, etc. We went to bed happy and comfortable, and spent the night rooster-free. In the morning Luz Maria made us breakfast, and we packed up our bikes once again. She gave me her red bandanna, just like my threadbare one that Dad gave me, so that I could remember her and her family when I wear it. We took several pictures, said tearful goodbyes, and set off into the cool, sunny morning.