We've been in Guatemala for less than 24 hours, and I already have trouble clenching my hands into a strong fist. That's because Pascal and I spent the afternoon barreling down a volcano on mountain bikes, our hands gripping the brakes in a constant "Clutch of Death."
After a tiring uphill climb for a good 5 hours in dog years, our local Guatemalan mountain biking guide (who at full height probably can see no higher than my belly button), proclaimed "it's all downhill from here" (in Spanish it sounds more like "ustedes son gringos muy locos").
Yeah, right. All downhill it was, except for all the uphills generously sprinkled throughout for maximum leg destruction!
Actually, we came to almost look forward to the uphills. Although tiring, they did afford a certain comforting sense that our life and limbs were safe. The same could not be said of the downhills.
You see, one thing most volcanoes have in quite abundant supply is rocks, and I suspect that local Guatemalans have been very busy for the past 10 years placing every single rock on Volcan Agua on the little anorexic excuse for a path we went down on. I didn't know you could have so many rocks on a trail and still call it a trail. A more appropriate name would be "string of rocks embedded in loose slippery dirt to ambush dumb gringo mountain bikers."
The trail was--as mentioned--very narrow. There were some sections where I honestly wonder how the bike went through with both pedals without getting stuck. And there were other sections where I know for a fact that this was a physical impossibility, as the bike stopped cold but yours truly did not. Thank God for the occasional bush.
This was actually quite fun. There's something to be said for the feeling of turbo-charged adrenaline pumping through your veins. Even better is being on a bike behind Pascal!
As much as I was concerned for my well-being (mostly for the possibility of a broken bone on the way down), I was especially concerned--in between fits of laughter--for Pascal.
I've never seen so many ways of being forcefully dismounted from a mountain bike as I have today. Pascal had instances where he flew over the handle bars, ones where he flew off to the right, flew off to the left, did a few dance moves and leg gyrations before flopping down, and even had an incident where Pascal found himself accidentally running downhill being chased by his own crashing bicycle, cursing all the while! Oh, the joys!
(Miraculously, Pascal's worst injury of the trip was a heavily scraped forearm.)
Even our superhuman guide found himself flung off his bicycle at one point, but I don't think anyone could beat Pascal for imaginative forced bike dismounts on dangerous terrain. Wow.
In fact, Pascal's bike got so beat up that by the time we reached the foot of the volcano the gear shifter on his rear wheel completely snapped off. He had to ride the whole way back in one gear that the guide had jerry-rigged aftewards. And by the time both of us made it back to Antigua, we were literally covered from head to toe in a layer of dust and grime.
It's a great start to our Guatemalan adventure vacation, and I can't wait to begin our next adventure. It starts at 5:00AM tomorrow morning...
Cheers!
Gabriel
