Bike tourists are a unique bunch; we spend our hard-earned free time on endeavors that are anything but restful, and burn our hard-earned money on equipment that is anything but cheap. We awaken each day to don our rank, sun-drenched clothes, pack up camp, and sit asscheeks astride our narrow saddle, achy from pedaling days on end. We drink from creeks and eat from gas stations, crap in whatever location nature makes its inconvenient call, and sleep on the cold ground in a crusty sleeping bag. Yet we relish in the sense of freedom that comes with this lifestyle. Each day brings with it a new and different world to experience, and we face the open road not with trepidation, but excitement. There aren't many people willing to spend their vacation time like bike tourists do, yet we enthusiastically sign up for it. 

I proudly count myself among this unique set of individuals. I've spent plenty of time daydreaming of bucolic skylines, perusing maps to weave together countryside roads and peculiar attractions. The preparation is done, the gear is purchased, and the flights are booked. Now it's just a matter of pedaling. 

Welcome, readers, to my Panamerican adventure. Sit down, buckle up, and strap on your helmet, cause things are gonna get bumpy as I make my way south from Panama to Ecuador.

Heart

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