We picked up a bike box so I could ship my bike to El Salvador and then picked up miss Maggie at the airport.
The dusty dirt road wound through the dry coastal countryside.
Leon sucks. Its like Antigua Guatemala, only worse.
Crossing the border into El Salvador, we were helped by a guy who wanted me to hook up with his sister.
It was the most people I’d had in my van since Santa Fe, NM, when my cousin Nancy took Cass, Sage, me and two bikes up into the mountains for […]
I slipped out of Sayulita early one morning after hearing about a mountain bike ride with a guide company out of Puerto Vallarta.
The ocean was calling. It had been close to 6 weeks since I left the Pacific Ocean in Vancouver, and I needed to get back to the water.