Hitting the kick starter several times with his foot, it was hard to hear the engine turn over in the roar of the wind gusting around 30 mph. Standing almost a foot smaller than me, the 200cc motorcycle even looked small for him. With his backpack resting on his chest, I hopped onto the back grabbing the seat handle with my right hand. Looking down I found the exhaust pipe to make sure I didn't burn my leg. My hiking boots rested near the exhaust, it was the first time I've really been thankful for lugging them around during the last six months. Picking up the empty propane take in my left hand, I did my best to place it in my lap without being too uncomfortable. I heard the the property manager's muffled voice through the wind.
"Are you ready? It's a little bit of a mission?"
"Yeah I guess so."
"It's a good thing that you ran out of propane for the stove today, cause if you ran out tomorrow they would have been closed."
"Yeah good thing."
The motorcycle bogging from the weight had a hard time pulling us up the gradual slopes of the washboard road. Seems to be the standard for most transportation in Nicaragua.
Making it to a flat section of road, we picked up a little speed. Headed directly into the wind, each gust felt like someone pressed the on button to a wind tunnel. During each gust, we leaned into the wind to try and counter balance the motorcycle. I gripped the propane tank and the motorcycle seat harder.
Weaving around potholes, I heard a honk from behind and a second later, a motorcycle passed us. All that was left behind was a thick trail of dust and sand that we rode through. Coming from the other direction I'm bewildered by the family of four on another motorcycle. Two toddlers sitting on the gas tank, the husband driving and the mom on the back carrying an ice chest under one arm and a canvas bag under the other. The only person with a helmet was the man.
While I think it's crazy and dangerous for the family of four to be on the motorcycle, I'm sure it was amusing for them and everyone else to see two gringos riding too small of a motorcycle. Let alone the biggest gringo riding on the back holding a propane tank.
My left side tired from holding the propane tank was beginning to shake like a faked smile held too long. Making it to the hardware store, I plopped the propane tank down, I hopped off as one of the attendants looked at us and laughs. The other attendant grabbed the propane tank and hands us a new one.
"It's kind of a mission huh."
"Yeah that wind is horrible."
"Yeah it's like this here a lot. This is the worst I've seen it for a year. At least they just grated the roads. And good thing it's not a muddy mess yet."
The property manager hopping onto the bike kicks the starter like a cowboy spurring a horse. As the engine kicked to life I hopped onto the back once again. Picking up the full propane tank, I mentally let out a groan as we rolled away.
Here are some photos from the last few days. Due to the large inland lake, the Southern section of Nicaragua blows offshore about 300 days a year. What they don't tell you is that it could blow so hard that it will white cap offshore.
Update**
The Australian girls have now broken down three times since the last post but it wasn't their fault. Some guy was going to buy their Jeep so they went for a test drive. Popped a tire and twenty minutes later the spare. After the girls spent all day in town fixing it. They walk out the next morning to see that another tire went flat. In their words he was "driving like a madman." They saw him last pushing a motorcycle down the road that he said blew a carburetor when he was riding it. Said it wasn't his fault.
Read about getting to Popoyo and the Australian girls
Read about getting to Popoyo and the Australian girls
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