Day 197 - 201: El Salvador
Currently sitting in a cafe in Costa Rica. Haven’t written anything since three and a half countries back… oops. In my defense, I’ve been pushing quickly (for me) through Central America and it can be hard to motivate myself to write after long days on the bike, especially when the body’s still adjusting to the increased mileage.
But I’m taking a day or so off here to rest, so let’s try get back up to date.
The first day of cycling in El Salvador was around 100 km. One of those days where 90% of the elevation comes in the final 10%. So it was an easygoing ride until the afternoon, when things got steep fast. Some of the tunnels were pretty sketchy too where I couldn’t even see the road in front of me.
That night I met Fiona and a Swiss vanlife couple Ueli and Anita who I’d actually met over three months ago in Tequila Mexico. They had rented an Airbnb and let me camp outside. We spent the evening catching up and playing board games. Small world. Thanks again for the host!
The next day, Fiona and I set out cycling together. But I’d promised myself a rest day as I hadn’t taken one since leaving Oaxaca. So I stopped after just 8 km in El Zonte.
El Zonte is an interesting place. It’s also known as “Bitcoin Beach.” It’s a laid-back surfer village that became the center of a grassroots movement which eventually led to Bitcoin becoming legal tender in the whole country. Cool seeing all the “Bitcoin accepted here” signs around town.
The following morning I saw something on YouTube that prompted me to check my heart rate while lying in bed. Before this trip, my resting heart rate was in the high 70s. That morning it was 53. A drop of more than 25 bpm. I had to double-check. I guess all those hours for months on end riding in Zone 2 are actually having some physiological effects, even if day by day I don’t notice or even seem to be regressing.
The next day brought the first rain I’ve seen in ages. It took two minutes to get soaked to the bone, and about ten to remember I even had a rain jacket. But by then it was too late. The worst part is always getting soaked. after which the ride itself was actually fun. It was raining so hard that a lot of cars pulled over with hazard lights flashing.
At one point I passed under a bridge with 10+ motorcyclists huddled beneath it. They looked at me like I was some kind of lunatic as I cycled straight through.
Eventually the rain cleared and I dried out quickly. I was feeling strong, the kilometers were flying. Maybe it was the six pupusas from the night before. Until…
Puncture. First one in a while. I poured half a bottle of sealant into the hole using a makeshift funnel made from tape. Pumped it up, spun the wheel, thought it worked. Five kilometers later, flat again.
I tried again. No luck.
Eventually I decided to try one of the tubeless puncture repair plugs. The first attempt was a disaster. Couldn’t get it in. I tried another one, gifted to me over four months ago by Julien (the Canadian bike tourer I cycled with in the US). That one worked, but it left a metal tip lodged inside the tire. I pumped it up and checked into a hotel as it was getting dark.
At the hotel, I figured I’d add the rest of my sealant. Realized I’d left my tape behind somewhere. So I peeled back part of the tire and poured it in. After that, I couldn’t get the tire to pop back into place with my pump.
I consulted with ChatGPT (as one does), who suggested wrapping an inner tube around the outside of the tire to help it seal. Good idea. It didn’t work.
So I walked to a nearby gas station and used their compressor. That did the trick.
Next morning, the tire was soft again. I decided to just pump it every 10 km or so and limp into the next town with a bike shop, about 30 km away.
The shop folks were incredibly kind. The owner spoke great English. They “fixed” it, removed the metal thing from inside the tire as well as a nail, and I picked up a spare inner tube and more sealant. The owner even gifted me a proper bacon strip kit.
Problem was, 30 minutes later, flat again.
I took the wheel off and gave it one last try before promising myself I would switch to an inner tube. Used one of the new strips, dumped in a bottle of sealant, and this time it seemed to work. One final pump and it held pressure.
Somehow, despite all the mess over those two days, I still managed 130 km one day and 90 the next. I’m now just 15 km from Honduras.
El Salvador has been a flying visit. But the people here have been so friendly. It has been constant waves and smiles the whole way through. But onwards to Honduras.
