The road takes its toll
December 18
Heading out from Ojochal the coastal road was a well-paved two lane byway, until it terminated into the Pan-American Highway . There we were once again greeted by Costa Rican potholes that slowed our pace to twenty miles an hour. We were headed to the Corvocado National Park , a rain forest preserve tucked into the southeastern corner of the country. The park lies about 30 miles off of the Pan-American down a dirt road.
Soon after we turned off the highway, our equipment succumbed to the Costa Rican roads. As Holly screamed through our helmet communicators to stop, I looked in my mirror to see our top case tumbling down the road. I stopped the bike to discover that the mount had snapped completely in two. Before we start each morning I check the luggage mounts, to make sure they are tight and free of problems, and hadn't noticed any cracks.
The box had somehow survived with only a broken handle and a bad case of road rash. We held our breath as we opened the box, pulled out our laptop and turned it on. Miraculously the computer had also survived its over-the-waterfall-in-a-barrel ride. The only victim of the break was my long suffering bungee net, which had shredded on impact.
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Our top box rack snapped in half, causing the top box and dry sack to fall off the bike. |
As we collected the pieces, I tried to think what to do. It was Sunday afternoon and we were in the middle of nowhere. If we could somehow make it to our destination in Puerto Jimenez, I was sure that I could find a welder on Monday morning.
I pulled the bike into the shade to decide how to reattach the box. Short of a welder, my only solution was duct tape. We used half a roll, attaching the box to what remained of the mount. We took the dry sack off the topcase luggage rack and Holly held it, balanced on one of the saddlebags. With everything remounted, we headed towards Puerto Jimenez at a pace I hoped would preserve our tape job.
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Jeremiah uses duct tape to temporarily hold the box in place until we get to our destination. |
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The duct tape did a wonderful job in holding our busted top box in place. |
Our guidebook said that the road to Puerto Jimenez was paved, a statement that would be true if they had added the phrase “in places.” As we wound through the mountain road we saw a four-wheel drive vehicle that had run off the edge and was hanging in a nest of trees on the side of the ridge. The road was getting worse and Holly's arms were tiring of holding the bags. Our GPS showed a town called Rincón nearby and we decided to stop for the night when we got there. We drove several miles until a stream cut the road in two and we realized that we had already passed through Rincón, which consisted of a store, a school and a collection of houses. We turned around and drove back.
The only lodging in Rincón was a set of cabinas that sat on the gulf's edge. We were the establishment's only guests as we pulled the bike onto our porch and began to untape our luggage.
My plans were to take a bus to the closest major town the next morning to find a welding service and get the luggage mount fixed. When we walked up to the store to get Gatorade and ice cream to help us recover from the heat, I noticed a small shop in the back that contained several boats, pieces of scrap metal and some woodworking tools scattered around. I asked the store owner if he had a welder. He did and offered to repair the parts when we told him about our situation.
Back at our cabin, I pulled the mount off, along with one of the engine guards, which had cracked weeks earlier from the road stress. I took them back to the store to show the owner and explain how I wanted them fixed. With my broken Spanish, I agreed to what I thought was meeting the man at 6 a.m. the next morning to have the pieces fixed and left the parts in his shop.
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The rack that was mounted to the bike snapped due to our travel over rough roads. |
Half an hour later, my shower was interrupted by a knock at the door of our cabina. We opened it to find the store owner, the fixed pieces in his hands. He had even applied black paint to the repairs as the finishing touch on his handiwork. For his services he accepted the equivalent of $10. Holly lent a hand and held the flashlight as we put the parts back on. They fit perfectly. As the sun set, the Guzzi was ready to travel again. In the middle of rural Costa Rica , Christmas had come a week early.
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Jeremiah moves around the bike re-mounting the crash bar and top box rack after a kind neighbor welded them for us on a Sunday evening. |
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