I loved Guatemala. She was so beautiful, and the riding was so wonderful. Miles and miles between settlements with nice roads and even nicer people. Oh my gods the level of kindness and generosity we encountered here was incredible. The 3 kids on a moto who drove us out of the squirrely, complicated, town of La Union, then the woman in La Union who helped us with directions, then drove us back through town to the hotel, and helped pick up Dacharys bike when we dropped it (twice). The hotel clerk who walked us to the parking, helped carry a pannier back, then wouldn’t be content with sending me up the street to get food. No, he led me there, helped get the process of ordering stared, and then waited while the food was cooked.

Mexico landscapes were more dramatic, but that was because we kept going back and forth across the mountains. But the people we encountered seemed no more, or less, kind than those in the US (with the exception of the great folks at Motohaus BMW). People were along every foot of almost every road it seemed, like a cancerous growth spreading along the veins. You had to work hard it seemed to find the country without the constant onslaught of humanity.

In the Guatemala we saw the people live in towns. Actual towns, some teeny, some not so teeny; with beautiful space spread out in-between. I even enjoyed going through most of the towns. It was just a wonderful feeling riding there. We didn’t see much of it, but I can’t recommend it highly enough.