The Saga of Panama
or

How We Learned to Hate the Darien Gap and Love the Westin Hotel

Day 32 - Tuesday, December 3rd
Panama City

The day before, while participating in the Visita al Taller de Santa, we received a bit of distressing news - the Crucero Express was out of business. This little detail would turn our quick stop in Panama into a saga that would span well into the next week.

Unknown to the general public, it is actually impossible to travel by road all the way down the Pan American Highway. There is a tiny little bit of jungle in the way called the Darien Gap which goes from southern Panama to northwest Colombia. The area is devoid of any roads. Although many people have traversed it on foot, only a handful of hardy souls are on record for doing it by motorcycle. In a way, they did it on foot as well, pushing, pulling, or canoeing the bike more than riding it. It also takes a couple of weeks.

For the past several years the Crucero Express has been the salvation of the intercontinental traveller and the solution to the Darien Gap problem. The Crucero Express is a large ferry boat which can hold over a hundred vehicles and makes the overnight trip between Panama and Colombia. The boat has a full-service restaurant, a disco and a casino. It leaves from Colon, the port city on the Atlantic/Caribbean coast of Panama on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and arrives the next morning in Cartagena on the same coast of Colombia.

For us, it would have been simple and inexpensive - $50 for each bike, and $70 per person for the cabin. Sounds easy and convenient, right? Sure, except about one month before our arrival the whole ferry sank into the deep cold depths of bankruptcy.

We were left with the old options used by travellers prior to the existence of the Crucero Express. One was to put the bikes in a container on a freighter that plies the waters between Central and South America. We would have to fly ourselves, as the boats are not allowed to carry passengers. The second option was to fly the bikes and ourselves directly to South America, but since this can be very expensive, we decided to try to find a boat first.

So the search for transportation began. David had worked it out with the hotel to let us use the Executive Business Center at no charge. This included computer usage, e-mail, photocopying, and local phone calls. Over the next week and a half, it would become our second home.

Using the guide book and the 'paginas amarillas' (yellow pages), Gary called at least a dozen shipping companies and learned about the process of shipping a bike. Basically, the bikes would have to be brought to the port the day before travel where they would be driven into a container; a 20 footer could hold them all. The bikes would be tied down securely inside, the container loaded onto the boat, shipped, unloaded at the port destination where we would meet it and clear the bikes in customs. The best prices were with Evergreen and Wilford & McKay - $750 for a 20 foot container plus a few dollars here and there for paperwork.

Unfortunately, all the boats to Cartagena leave every Monday and Tuesday, and being that it was Tuesday, there wasn't a chance in Tucumcary of getting the bikes on. It would be a week before we could get on the next boat.

At this point, despite this blow to our plans, we were still optimistic about other options, one of which presented itself to Jim that night at a get-together with the motorcycle club. Russo, one of the guys we had met at the parade who lives in Colon, knew about smaller boats for hire which might be able to take not only the bikes but us as well.

David and Gary decided to bike over to the shipping agencies in order to book passage and hopefully get one of the companies to sponsor us with a complimentary container. All of the agencies were headquartered in the ports of Colon and Cristobal, the main centers of shipping activity at the far end of the canal. It would be a full day trip, but they were excited about seeing this center of international trade and commerce.

While David and Gary were working in the Business Center all day, the other guys ran around the city doing a few errands. Alex and Jay went shopping at the Kawasaki dealership. They procured bolts (of course) and stickers for Jay, but they didn't find a gasket for Gary's muffler, which had now been backfiring since Nicaragua due to excess air sneaking in where the pipes connect to the engine. Jim went to the Universite de Panama to explore the internet connection, which was successful (but an equally adequate connection was later found right around the corner from the hotel in an internet cafe so he never returned).

That night, everyone clustered around the television for the 6 o'clock evening news on RPC Channel 4. At the end of the newscast, during the feel-good closing section, there we were, resplendent in our Visita al Taller de Santa t-shirts, Alex talking about our trip in Spanish, and the rest of us standing around looking studly. The segment ended with us driving around the airport roadways performing our antics, Jay popping wheelies, Jim standing on his seat, and the rest of us looking studly.

That night, everyone had arranged to enjoy a little bit of the Panamanian nightlife with some locals we had met individually, and so we did. And fun it was.

Day 33 - Wednesday, December 4th
Panama City

Wednesday morning and all seemed rosy. David and Gary left early for Colon and Cristobal, dead set on getting passage onward, free or not. The distance to Colon and Cristobal along the only road is only 80 kilometers but the concierge told us it would take over 2 hours. 2 hours to go 60 miles! No way, thought David and Gary, but they changed their tune when they fell into line behind the sea of buses and trucks. Taking every opportunity to pass, sometimes on the shoulder, they made it in 1 hour and 15 minutes.

On the way into the port at Colon, an unknown motorcyclist revved up alongside them and motioned them to pull over. It was Russo, who they were going to call for help anyway when they got into town. Together, the three went into the port and started asking around for boats to Cartagena. The only one going was a small, shoddy boat nearly full with bent-up car wheels that hardly looked seaworthy. The captain offered to put the bikes on the bow, but he had no room for us. There was no way we were going to put the bikes unsecured on a boat and not accompany them. We pitied the poor guy who was making arrangements to put his car in a shallow barge towed by this boat.

Russo took Gary and David to the port of Cristobal where the larger container ships dock. Here also were the offices for all of the shipping agents and companies. They made the rounds, giving their practiced pitch, meeting a few people and getting somewhat of a positive response from the two companies with the next available boat. It helped that we had been on the news the day before. The final approval for a free container, however, could only be made by the higher-ups, who were back in Panama in their fancy high-rise offices. So meetings were set up for the next morning.

Russo, who is a motorcycle mechanic by trade, invited David and Gary to see his shop and do a little bit of tightening and tweaking. Russo brought out Simone, his 3 month old howler monkey, who swung from their necks by his strong, prehensile tail, nearly choking the life out of them.

David and Gary made the hair-raising trip back to Panama in 1 hour and 45 minutes, slowed by the increased rush hour traffic and encroaching darkness of the night, but still under the 2 hour estimate by the locals. So there!

Earlier during the day, while David and Gary were selflessly working for the benefit of all, the other riders relaxed at the hotel where the eventual solution to all our problems simply fell into their lap. A shipping agent from Panama had seen us on the evening news the night before and tracked us down at the hotel. Jim and Alex met with her and learned that just last week she had flown the Brazilians we had met a month ago in Mexico. They had elected to fly to Quito, Ecuador instead of going to Cartagena or Bogota in Colombia. The cost for the bikes was around $300 each, plus another $250 or so for the plane seat.

When David and Gary returned that evening, we all had a meeting about what to do. By playing the numbers game, we determined that it would cost about the same to boat the bikes to Colombia, fly ourselves there, and then drive to Quito as to just fly us and the bikes directly to Quito - about $750. However, by going to Quito we would make up about a week as well as avoid potential personal injury in conflict-ridden Colombia (we had heard of 31 deaths there only a few weeks ago, although we were all ready to take the risk). We arranged to meet with the shipping agent the following day.

We split up that night again, glad for the chance to spend some quality time apart. Some of us worked out in the gym and crashed early in the hotel. Others went out again with some local friends. David and Gary were shown around nighttime Panama by a couple COPA Airline employees they had met at the airport during the charity event.

They explored Casco Viejo first, the old section of town populated by a wide spectrum of residents from the poorest in the city to artists to the nuevo riche, even such notables as the President in his palace and Ruben Blades, musician-actor and political activist.

After a lovely promenade under the stars along the waterfront, David and Gary were taken to the Panama Canal, specifically the Miraflores Locks. Even though it was almost 1 o'clock in the morning, the locks were in full operation. From a vantage point high above the canal, they watched in awe as a large container ship entered the locks on its way to the Pacific Ocean. The boat was pulled into place by the powerful mechanized cars called "mules" along the edge of the water lane. Thick locking doors swung closed behind the ship, enclosing it in a kind of giant bathtub. The water drained out rapidly, and the boat was lowered about 30 feet to the level of the next section of the canal.

The whole process took about 1 hour to complete. To go through the entire canal, including three other locks, takes about 8 hours. Over the next week, everyone got a chance to see this amazing operation, and we learned incredible facts from reading pamphlets and posters, and asking questions of the locals, who are all proud and knowledgable about their most famous sight.

Day 34 - Thursday, December 5th
Panama City

Thursday morning, a ray of hope. The weather, however, didn't match our optimism. Dark clouds covered the sky, and warm intermittent rain fell throughout the day.

Our meeting with the shipping agent was scheduled for the morning, and since it seemed likely that we would pursue this avenue, David and Gary blew off their meetings with the shipping companies. We spent the time before the meeting making copies of the Riding to the Moon information packet in the Business Center and outlining our strategy for the meeting.

When she arrived, we were ready. Imagining that she was about to make a big sale and fly five motorcyclists and their bikes to Quito, she was a little stunned when we began the pitch for getting it all for free. In return, of course, we offered her the exposure from our web site, a personal endorsement from us for the next edition of the Mexico and Central American Handbook, and last but not least, coverage on the RPC Channel 4 News about being the company that provided us with transportation onward. David had spent many hours arranging the promise of such coverage from the TV station with the help of Jimena, a wonderful woman we met earlier whose family had connections with the station.

Since she was only a shipping agent and not a shipping company, apart from her fee she couldn't offer us any complimentary or even discounted shipping. But she would go to an airline on our behalf and arrange a meeting. She called later to say the meeting would be at the hotel tomorrow.

Having spent our quality time apart the previous evening, we decided to leave our anxiety behind and go out as a group to a local restaurant called Las Tinajas that had a show of traditional drumming and dance. Three couples dressed in traditional Panamian clothes, loose cotton slacks and shirts for the men and colorfully embroidered pleated dresses for the woman, twirled and stomped through several well-known folk dances accompanied heartily by a small band of musicians. At the end of the dancing segment, each dancer pulled someone from the audience - from our group, Jay was the chosen one. With great gusto, he too twirled and stomped as we howled encouragement from our seats.

The second part of the show was a handsome woman of Caribbean decent singing popular Panamanian and Spanish-language songs. The audience sang along with gusto. At the end of her set, she asked the audience for a volunteer to come up and dance one song with her. No one moved, so knowing Jim could wine with the best of them, we cajoled him into accepting her invitation. Hesitantly, he strode towards the singer, but once up on stage, his showmanship took over and the two of them looked as natural as if they had been dance partners for years. Of course, she did the leading.

We all went back to the hotel and turned in early, for once.

Day 35 - Friday, December 6th
Panama City (still)

We awoke saddened with the knowledge that it would be our last day in the Westin Caesar Park. They had offered us 5 complimentary nights, and last night was #5.  Not only were we extremely comfortable in the luxurious surroundings, not only were we loving the fabulous gym, steam room, sauna, cold plunge pool, and regular pool, not only were we now totally addicted to the constant access to a computer screen for the laptop and e-mail in the Business Center, but the ordeal of the past week and the support and understanding of the hotel staff had caused us to grow very fond of everyone there. We were on a first name basis with at least a dozen employees, and their familiar faces began to feel like family.

As the interminable wait for our meeting time dragged on, we took the opportunity to work out in the gym one more time, shower and shave with the abundant hot water, and express our gratitude to all at the hotel for a wonderful week. We packed our belongings, heads hung low, and hefted it all downstairs to the lobby.

Gary turned in all the keys and received a printout of our incidental charges. To his surprise the total came to several hundred dollars! Upon inspection, the culprit was a couple of phone calls made by Alex and Jay during the week. Alex's phone call to Nina back in Los Angeles only came to $90, but Jay's megathon with Stephanie in Canada came to a whopping $260. He knew it would be expensive, maybe $100, but no way was Jay going to pay that much for a 45 minute phone call. The hotel very generously deducted $100 from the bill, and Jay swore never to make that mistake again.

When it came time to say goodbye to Fulvia, the manager of reception and reservations, she very cooly asked us why we were checking out. The hotel only offered us five nights, we replied. When do you think you'll get out of Panama, she asked. Well, we answered, if our meeting at some point today goes well, maybe the next day or Sunday.

Fulvia went to the computer, checked availability, and satisfied that she wasn't compromising the hotel's commitment to its paying guests, she told us to get our things back upstairs at once. We could stay another night. Our weak protests were hardly a match for Fulvia's insistence. Feeling blessed by our good fortune, we gladly reinstated ourselves in our old familiar rooms.

Shortly thereafter, the shipping agent called to say that at 8:00 pm, an official from TAME Airlines of Ecuador would come to the hotel to meet with us. We kicked back into high gear, preparing for the meeting. David asked the hotel to write a letter of support for us, relating how they too were a sponsor of our ride and urging others to do the same.

At 7:30, the meeting was moved to 8:30. At 8:30, David, Gary and Alex were nervously waiting in the lobby with the shipping agent. By 9:00, no one had shown. At 9:30, we decided to give up. The shipping agent promised to figure out what went wrong and reschedule for the next day. Our hopes at getting out on Saturday were dashed.

Dejected and despondent, the hapless trio mounted their bikes and rode to meet Jim and Jay, who were attending a barbeque of sorts with the motorcycle club. All of their troubles were forgotten as Russo, Wally, Emilio, Alessandro and the rest regaled the Riding to the Moon team with tales of Panamian biker antics; the revelry and comraderie along with the leanest Grade-A beef and cold beer lifted their spirits, and the day ended on an overall better note than it had started. Tomorrow was the big day, and we knew we couldn't lose.

Day 36 - Saturday, December 7th
Panama City (hey, what do you know?)

We lost.

The meeting was set for 10:00 in the morning, but as is typical with Panamian business and social practices, it didn't take place until 2:00 in the afternoon. Since we had set aside the morning for the meeting, we found ourselves with practically nothing to do, but couldn't leave the hotel just in case things were rescheduled again.

We putzed around, sent some e-mail, wrote some journals, ran around the corner to our favorite restaurant, "24", where we had eaten practically every meal every day (breakfasts of pancakes and omelets, lunches of rice and chicken, and dinners of the same, very good, very cheap).

Jim and Jason spent most of the day at the internet cafˇ just behind the hotel. This modern and well-equiped cybercafe had become Jim's second home, like the Business Center in the hotel had become for Gary and David. Although the internet cafˇ didn't comp us any online time, the connection speed was quick enough to make the $3 an hour charge palatable. It was here that Jim posted the rest of the pictures and text to date, spending several hours a day diligently transfering files and drinking cup after cup of Joe. Jay often assisted, cruising the web site for mistakes and missing picture files.

So finally 2 o'clock rolled around and the big meeting began. Gary missed it by a few minutes due to a laundry run (or something banal like that) and decided to sit it out instead of coming in late. David and Alex were there, and Gary was confident that ultimately his presence would be redundant. Over the next two hours, Gary nervously glanced out the Business Center door into the lobby where the meeting was being held, trying to get one of the guys attention for a thumbs-up or any sign of success. But everytime, the faces showed nothing but concentration and thought. It seemed like things were going well for why else would the meeting last so long. They must be talking about the finer details of the shipping and press coverage, thought Gary.

At the meeting table, it was entirely a different story. The two gentlemen from the airlines were very impressed with the details of our ride and repeatedly expressed their desire to help.  One man was a full fledged Rotary Club member sworn to selfless brotherly love (and sisterly love since the Panama chapter was going to start admitting women), but alas, he could not help, being only recently a bigwig in the company and not able to authorize anything himself. The other, who was with a different company, said his planes were currently grounded because of an FAA investigation.  One of his planes went down in the Colombian mountains the week before - a combination of faulty maintenance and pilot error. The plane had one of four engines catch fire during take-off. The right wing was stable with both engines running fine, but the pilot erred and shut off the wrong engine on the left to extinguish the fire. With two engines on the right and none on the left, the plane didn't work so well. His last error in life.

Although their answer was a wishy-washy "No" early on, David could not steer the meeting towards a graceful ending for the life of him, and so the entire two hours were spent going around and around, hearing why we couldn't get what we wanted. Finally the TAME manager said, "Well it is a 727 and we couldn't fly the bikes anyway; they won't fit in the cargo door."

So now we were back to square one, actually square zero, because we had no plan whatsoever. Such depressing thoughts would have to wait, however, because the time had come again to check out of the hotel. But once in the lobby with all our gear, dear sweet Fulvia made us march right back upstairs (in the elevator to the 10th floor actually); we could stay until Monday.

Only the comfortable surroundings of the hotel kept us from going insane. We cursed the Crucero Express ferry and all who ever sailed on it to Colombia. No one wanted to deal with what to do, or with each other, so we all went our separate ways for the evening, going to the movies or dinner or into the Panamian night with the many friends we had met.
 

Day 37 - Sunday, December 8th
Panama City (who'd have thought?)

Feliz Dia de las Madres, Mother's Day, in Panama. The hotel was awash with finely dressed local families come for brunch. Being a holiday, we slept late and decided to recreate for once. Jim, Jay and Alex took the video camera out into the city for some wild and crazy home movies. David and Gary went for a cruise around Panama Viejo and by the canal to take some product shots for the web site.

We also realized we had to do something nice for the hotel which had been so good to us, so in the afternoon, we ran around the hotel with the Ricoh digital camera snapping pictures of the employees, which we stuck into Westin's very own journal entry. (Be sure to look it up in the index!)

We pulled the bikes around to one of the hotel's entrances for the obligatory group shot of us with the hotel. Alex suddenly came down with a wicked bug of some kind, but despite his delirium and high fever, he managed to construct the Mamiya camera and compose a decent shot or two. Soon after, his illness went away as suddenly and mysteriously as it had come.

Though it wasn't exactly a formal group discussion, everyone took the opportunity during the day to express their unbelievable urge to find a way out of Panama. The week had been enjoyable, but enough was enough. Free, not free, it didn't matter. "Let's go."

That night was a party of some kind at the hotel and we bumped into Pepe, one of the people we had met earlier in the week at the COPA event at the airport. Being the head coordinator for the upcoming telethon next weekend, he beseeched David for the Riding to the Moon team to participate. It was a nice offer, and we promised to take him up on it if we failed in moving on by the weekend.

The evening was spent apart from each other once again pursuing Panama's entertainment . After spending every day during the previous month looking at the same four faces and listening to the same dumb jokes, it was actually very nice to have other people to hang out with. We still spent our days together working on various projects, but the evenings were a time to be apart or even alone if we wanted.

Day 38 - Monday, December 9th
Panama City (you don't say!)

Except for the fact that Mother's Day in Panama kind of leeks over into the first business day of the week, we might have accomplished something this day. All of the main offices for the airlines and the shipping companies were closed and we couldn't get a hold of our shipping agent who still wanted to help us get to South America.

Watching helplessly as the days ticked by, falling further and further behind schedule, and always somewhat in doubt about the safety of driving through Columbia, we decided that the best idea was to fly straight to Quito, Ecuador on a commercial airline that could also take the bikes as cargo. We would book the flight and the cargo space, and then if time permitted, work on getting a sponsorship or a discount out of it. If not, we would pay the big bucks and be happy about it.

We gathered enough general information from the few calls we could make to know that this would indeed be possible, but in order for it to go smoothly, to make sure everything was prepared properly for customs, we wanted Christina's professional assistance. Since she was out for Mother's Day, we hoped to hear from her bright and early the next morning.

With most of the day left, we all did our own thing again - laundry for the umpteenth time, more writing on the computer, more internetting at the cybercafe, more working out, and finally, more packing. With the help of the wonderful ladies at the Concierge desk and in the Business Center, we tracked down a decent hotel where we would put up our tired bones as our days had run out again at the Caesar Park.

Jim and Jay were the first to get out. But before the remaining three could follow, Fulvia bounded onto the scene with her unflagging enthusiasm and kindness. We tried to say no, really we did, but other employees got into the act and they just wouldn't hear of us going to another hotel. With red faces and gushing gratitude we accepted.

Jim and Jay had unfortunately already paid at the other hotel for themselves, and decided to stay there for the night. However, they promised to come back the next day. Despite having spent our evenings apart and often not seeing each other past 8 or 9 pm until the next morning, it felt strange not being all together. We couldn't have known then how used to that feeling we would get over the next few weeks.

Day 39 - Tuesday, December 10th
Panama City (nah! really?!)

Today was the Day of Reckoning. Either we would get our shit together and book passage onward or we would just pack it in and become permanent residents of the hotel and Panamanian citizens. After all, we were regulars at all of the popular nightclubs, on a first name basis with most of the bike cops in the city, and the hotel was naming one of the ballrooms after us.

The shipping agent called the hotel early in the morning to see what was going on. We told her our plan and she said she'd find something. In the meantime, Gary called around on his own and ultimately found the same thing she did when she called back an hour later. Continental Airlines flies once every evening to Quito and has planes big enough for the motorcycles...727's. These are same planes that TAME Airlines flies! Could we fit in the doors?

The passenger ticket is $265 and the bikes would be around $350. There would be room in cargo for all the bikes on Wednesday's flight and any afterwards. We decided that tomorrow's flight, Wednesday, would do just fine.

The word from the professionals and from the guide book suggested it would take a minimum of two days to clear the bikes in customs in Quito and possibly up to a week. We decided to stack the deck in our favor with a letter from the Ecuadorian consulate. Gary made the preliminary phone call, then he and Alex went over to meet with the Consul. We showed him our ride booklet and explained what would help us most. Keeping a copy of the Mexican letters, he told us to come back the next morning to pick up his letter of introduction to the authorities in Quito.

Gary and Alex next went to our shipping agent's office to firm up the plane reservations. She took them downstairs to a travel agent where Gary and Alex bought their tickets; the others would have to come on their own to pay. Although it would be best to bring the bikes to the airport that afternoon and crate them up for the next evening's flight, it was agreed that if we came to the airport very early the next morning, we would be okay. The main concern was Continental's regulation about gas in the vehicles. Officially, the tanks have to be drained and left to air out 24 hours before the flight, but she said we could fudge it by a few hours. Besides, we told her, we were all practically on empty anyway.

Gary and Alex went back to the hotel, tickets in hand, super jazzed about moving on, only to find that in their absence, everyone else had decided to stay through the weekend and participate in the telethon. Hold the phone! Hadn't we just decided scant hours ago to leave the next day? Hadn't we brooded and moaned and complained about when we were going to get out of Panama? Here was our chance and we weren't going to take it?

Big meeting in the lobby. Everyone brought up their reasons for either staying or going. Jim, a good one to listen to the overall tone of a discussion and boil it down to essentials, began our summit meeting cautiously, moderating everyone's input. Gary, who had been listening to Alex's woes all morning, spoke for the both of them; they wanted to go. Besides, Gary said, the Riding to the Moon event was about travelling, not staying, and our commitment was to our own charities, and riding to the bottom of the earth was how we honored that commitment.

David, who found out that the Teleton would be broadcast via satellite throughout Central and South America, wanted to stay and help this country build their children's hospital wing. It may also help to get us through the upcoming countries if we were to make a plea for local causes as well as for the ACS and STC. We may get to meet Ruben Blades too! David also wanted to stay because Jim, who had seen the Oncologico (cancer) hospital the day before, reminded him that he might be an inspiration to someone still in treatment for cancer. He also wanted to organize a filmed plea for Teleton funds with Pepe to be aired in case they did have to leave before the event.

By the end of the talks it was 4 to 1. Jim and Jay were convinced to move on and help other countries where they may have a greater effect on the local community. Let's face it, with Ruben Blades on the ticket Panama didn't really need no gringo bikers asking for money for 'em. David sat alone with four tense and road hungry bikers staring him down for a decision.

Since this situation had the potential for splitting up the group where it may never mend, David decided to take a break to weigh his decision carefully. He didn't want to hold the group hostage but it meant a lot to him that they were patient while he went off to mull it over and try to realize what was the most important aspect of this predicament to him. We would reconvene in 45 minutes. Meanwhile Jim would look up flights for David to take to Lima or Guayaquil should he decide to stay alone in Panama.

David went up to the room and laid down, drank some water, and breathed a bit deeper than usual. Then he jumped on the phone to call the Teleton people and the TV station to try to get more info about this international event in order to persuade the others to stay over the weekend.

While waiting for David, giddiness overcame the four others. The beds became trampolines as they worked out their frustrations doing face dives from the dressers. Called forth by this childish display, our old energy flared anew, so long quelled by the long wait in Panama.

David finally arrived, and the most important discussion of the whole ride began. For starters, we all agreed how nice it would be to stay for the telethon. Furthermore, we really did enjoy Panama, and a few days more wouldn't be all that bad. We had all made some good friends, and one of David's goals for the trip was to really get to know people along the way and make a difference wherever we went.

On the flip side, we all felt uncomfortable staying in the hotel for free for so long, and we were truly afraid they would ask us to stay on if we participated in the telethon; the Westin was a proud sponsor of the event as it was.

Alex felt so strongly about moving on that he threatened to sell his bike right there in Panama and fly home if we couldn't make up our minds. He missed his family in Brasil and he didn't have all the time in the world to make it to Ushuaia. He was afraid that at the rate we were going we wouldn't make it for a year. At the rate we were going he might have been right. We had delayed enough. Complacency was threatening to overtake us, and we had to make a decision and stick to it.

The idea of sticking to a plan led the discussion away from the main point and on to a less tangible subject - the idea of sticking to a plan. For over a month now, five headstrong individuals had somehow managed to put their heads together many times a day and make a group decision. Everything from where to stop for gas to how far we would travel in a day had been decided and agreed on by the group. It wasn't always easy, everyone felt slighted at some point or another, not all of our goals were met every day, but for the benefit of the group and the overall goal of the trip, decisions had to be made and acted upon.

Up there in the room, we all took turns spelling out our personal goals for the trip and how those goals were or were not being met. The differences between our goals were quite extreme in some cases, which made the fact that we had made it so far together all the more amazing.

Ultimately we realized that all of our goals could be met in part by moving on, not staying put, whether that translated into putting more miles under our tires and getting closer to Ushuaia, or visiting new places and seeing new sights, or meeting and befriending new people. So moving on is what we decided to do.

With one catch: Gary and Alex would leave the next day as scheduled and the other three would follow on Thursday. This afforded David the opportunity to visit the cancer institute in Panama and say his goodbyes to his Panamian friends. Jim and Jay could finish some internet stuff and maybe do another load of laundry.

The overall success of this plan hinged on Gary and Alex setting everything up with customs in Quito when they arrived. Since customs isn't open at night or on weekends, timing would be critical. Gary and Alex would have Thursday and Friday to get their bikes out, but the others would only have Friday. If they didn't clear, everyone should have just stayed in Panama for the telethon over the weekend. Gary and Alex felt up to the challenge, and the consulate letter coming the next day would be an invaluable tool.

The meeting ended with the biggest pillow fight the Westin Panama has ever seen; the Riding to the Moon Intercontinental Motorcycle Benefit Expedition was back up and rolling along. Maybe...

Miles - 250 (total for Panama)

Now, everyone out there, if we can put up with such trials and tribulations, surely you can see your way to making a contribution to the American Cancer Society or Save the Children. Our trip may sound like fun, or it may sound like a nightmare, especially this past week, but don't make it all for nothing. Soon, we'll be on our way, and such great things are going to happen, you'll want to keep on giving. Thanks, y'all.