Many of them are new and never published.

<>

MotoAdventureGal's last leg in the USA...riding to the border at Presidio

All the parents dressed their children up in the *campesino* costumes and had them blessed at the local Church

Lunch Break

Lunch Break

There sure were a lot of signs for them, but I never actually saw one crossing the road

Overloaded bike, soft beach sand...what did I *think* was gonna happen? (El Salvador)

Igorshen, MotoAdventureGal and Mad4Bikes

Stone Face at the Copan Ruins

No way was I able to eat all that, but what I *did* eat sure tasted good.

You better like rice & beans and fried bananas if you spend any time in Nicaragua...

Slow down for monkeys, dogs and kids crossing

Photo Credit: Igorshen

Tourist PicPhoto Credit: Igorshen

The Bike Lands in Bogota, Colombia

Bike Porn

Middle of the World, Mitad del Mundo

Painting on a Wall at Mitad del Mundo, Quito, Ecuador

Can you imagine that in the USA? (Ecuador)

Monkey Sanctuary (Baños, Ecuador)

Monkey Sanctuary (Baños, Ecuador) Yeup, that's Monkey Pee on my shirt.

Ecuador

Riding from paracas (Sea Level) to Cusco (8,000 ft) I crossed the Andes, and almost reached 15,000 feet on the DR650

Markets are so full of color and fun and good things. I love them.

Oh-My-Goddess Scenery

Local Color at the Ecuador-Peru border (Peruvian Side)

A local feeding the pelicans at sunset in Paracas. Afterwards he asked me for a "tip"

Cañon del Pato

I stopped to take a picture and this boy came running out of nowhere. Then his sister came along. He asked me for a "tip", presumably for enhancing my photo. I gave them each a piece of candy.

No, I did not eat one of the "coy" (guinea pig) that were running around the place.

The trip was not without injury...but you *can* choose to have a sense of humor about it.

How do you ride with a broken hand? Zip tie your fingers together and hope for the best.

No, I did not eat one of the "coy" (guinea pig) that were running around the place.

Waiting at the Bolivian side of the Peru - Bolivia Border for my paperwork to be finished

Bolivian Immigration

What goes up, must go down...and around, and around and around...

Rick on the Edge of the World

Off-Street Parking in the Bolivian Desert

Road Signs on the Way to the Bolivian Salt Flats

Road Signs on the Way to the Bolivian Salt Flats

Fill-Up in Copacabana, Bolivia (Lake Titicaca area)

Dedication to all the women, more courageous than I, who have battled against Breast or Ovarian Cancer

Scammed by Argentinian Police looking for a bribe

First Flat Tire of the Trip (Note to self: Make sure you put the bike on HARD PACK instead of sand before removing the rear tire...)

Parilla, or BBQ, Argentinian Style

Taken at the Lujan Zoo outside Buenos Aires, Argentina

http://rumbum.com/1138-the-kindness-of-strangers

and headed out of San Pedro. On the way out of town we caught up with 3 Guatemalan riders

who, curiously enough, had heard about me & my trip through the flurry of emails throughout Central America. We all rode together to Copan Ruinas, which was quite fun for me.

<>

Eduardo had to head back early, the three Guate riders invited me to go to the big rally / Bike Blessing in Escuintlas (Guatemala) with them, but I decided against it after my 7 hour border ordeal getting INTO Honduras…I didn’t want to have to go through THAT again. George and I had lunch together then he took off for his Saturday night date…

and I toured the Copan Ruins.

Copan was the southernmost of the Mayan Cities, and thought to be one of the three most important cities, Copan is known for its art and architecture.

Enjoy!

The copper bales weigh 4000 lbs [edited: ]and are worth $12,000. My mistake.

But while riding today I remembered another thing George told me: ever wonder why so many storm drains and such are missing in Central America…um, unethical recyclers (NOT INVEMA!!!). People will steal storm drains covers, metal anything, and turn them in for a few cents. George told me a not-so-funny story about a power tower that fell over because people had stolen the bolts (presumably for recycling) that held it together.

Over the years INVEMA has had to institute several rules about stuff they will NOT take…

But people will try anything, even putting nails in the plastic bottles so they’ll weigh more. And so INVEMA has a metal detector in their plastic processing system.

Quite the entrepreneur, George has already begun construction on a the first battery recycling center in Honduras. They are working on being able to capture both the plastic AND the lead / acid from the batteries, and have already done a bunch of ground testing on the site to make sure they do not contaminate it.

Now if he’d just figure out a way to deal with all the roadside trash he’d probably be sainted here in Central America…

Superhero George, just before he takes over the world 9or at least the central part of it...)

It’s shocking to Westerners to see beautiful mountain vistas littered with trash…and a shame. It often bothers me, too.

George, my host in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, decided to do something about it.

Told me how he started his business, INVEMA….he was attending school in the US, and his friends gave him some crap about his not recycling…he didn’t think much of it at the time, but when he returned to his home country, Honduras, and thought of opening a business, he remembered recycling.

George runs the largest recycling business in Central America.  INVEMA employs a whole bunch of people, but it does two things even more important:  1. it provides an income for a zillion people who might not otherwise have income, because they pick through trash and recycle what is recyclable and 2. George estimates that about 40% of the roadside trash is collected by these people and brought in for recycling–thus reducing the litter that is such an eyesore.

Pretty dang clever if you ask me.

The Tour:

The claw picks up a giant load of metal and the compactor makes this 300 lb. brick [edited from original post]

And spits one out abut once a minute

They also recycle plastics. Do you know that they have  to do a 6-step process in order to get all the glue and paper labels off?

Fly-away paper

Steam

Recycled Water. The capture rainwater, store it it huge vats, use it for a week, then release it without any chemicals in it.

Green plastics waiting for processing

Incoming bales of clear plastic (they have recycling collection facilities all over Central America)

A recycle-r entering the scales

More bales of plastic

Inside the main building

The recycle copper: it gets bought for $3/pound x 400 lbs., so each one of these bales is worth $12,000!!! [edited from original post] They keep these locked up with a guard in a special room. I didn’t count, but it looks like more than 12 bales…

George said they used to have insurance, but he found it cheaper just to hire armed guards.

Call me weird (I am!) but I found this really really fascinating, and am very grateful to George for the tour of San Pedro and surrounds every bit as much as the tour of his facility.

I spent the night in the COLD! mountain town of La Palma…just shy of the El Salvador / Honduran Border. The plan was to spend the night close to the border, cross over super early, and go see the Copan ruins on the way to San Pedro Sula.

The nice fellow at the KTM shop in San Salvador, where I got my new chain, had contacted a motorcyclist friend of his, George, who told me that they have a motorcycle gathering every Thursday…and I wanted to be there for that.

Well, the border officials had a different idea for my day. They thought I would be MUCH happier spending 7 1/2 hours there with them, and missing the ruins, and riding after dark to San Pedro Sula.

!!!

By the time I got to San Pedro, I was frazzled. I’d lost my cool at the border and let the process really upset me. The depth of the ineptitude was overwhelming (It has since been suggested to me that perhaps they were after a bribe–they were waiting for me to ask how much it would take to get me out of there quickly–I am not totally sure of this.)

For the first time on my trip I came across kids that had put dirt in the road and wanted me to stop and pay them money. (I’d read about this on the motorcycle forums, so at least I was forewarned…) I slowed down, then went over the dirt mound really fast and just kept on riding.

The road quality in Honduras had changed dramatically–there were huge woman-and-bike-eating potholes , places where the pavement had been severely damaged, places where the pavement ended and you had to ford your way across dirt and rocks. The curious thing to me was that at least Honduras MARKED the places with signage where the road turned bad (most of the time). In the previous countries people just put rocks or branches in the road to warn you.

The good thing was the scenery was absolutely incredible–it made up for the terrible roads

<>

I arrived in San Pedro in a “state”. I’d ridden for more than an hour after dark, I had no idea where I was going, and finally just quit riding. I called George, asked him to come and get me.

I had a great time with the other bikers at S’Tragos Bikers Saloon, and fortunately they’d changed my point of view on Honduras