As I sit here in Managua, its been days and days that I’m supposed to tell the tale from 4 countries ago! This Trip is happening real fast folks, but I should finish the Mexico episode before talking about the blur that is Central America…

Still reeling from the high winds of the day prior, Arriaga was blowing again real hard this morning. I was intending to eat healthy for a change and stopped by this modern looking cafe simply called Natural! Ok, the menu advertisement on the sidewalk caught my attention and I parked America across the street, that looked like a legal spot. I ordered to the young waiter who couldn’t have been more that 14 years of age, a fruit plate with yogurt and granola and honey from bees, could it be from anything else ? I liked that specification, Miel de Abeja, cool.

As I was enjoying my breakfast, a worried looking man entered the cafe, I was the only customer there so he looked at me and asked something ending with « La moto », well yes, it’s mine, I followed him outside and shoot, poor America was laying on its side, had been blown away by this goddamn wind, must have been a real strong gust as I had parked her leaning the right way towards the street and purposely on the right inclination. O Well, no big deal I thought, she’s been down before, the soft panniers and the crash bars protect her from much harm. The nice passerby and a couple of others looking in helped me to straighten her up, voilá! But, the horror! The right handle, the front brake handle was broken, cut clean at the base! Someone handed me the piece found on the street and I immediately knew this was going to be way more difficult than just a broken lever… The smaller and intricate piece of hardware connecting to the handle was made of aluminum and this was broken in 2, this looked to me like something extremely precise and unique to this machinery thingie and I immediately realized that this could be trip interrupting !!

A nice young man who had stopped his own moto to help, introduced himself, Christian was his name, his English was hesitant, I’d say 1st grade level, but that was really sweet of him to bother. He motioned for me to follow him, well sure young man, but remember, I only have my rear brake now so lets not go too fast okay? It’s scary to realize how much you rely on the front brake on a motorcycle, this is 90% of your stopping power, I felt so vulnerable maneuvering in the busy streets of Arriaga going so slowly and dangling my feet as to catch myself and heavy America whenever we needed to suddenly stop for a pedestrian or a crazy driver running a stop sign, just saying..

Christian led the way, taking me to 4 different motorcycle shops, all over town, each time long palabres were exchanged, people came real close, looking at the missing handle spot, measurements were taken, and disappointing shrugs offered, can’t help you Amigo. I think they truly were all very sorry not being able to help, love these people… Slowly my confidence started to erode, was I going to be stranded here? Would I need to order this piece from the next Yamaha dealer? Where would it be anyway? I was asking all sorts of questions to Christian, this was a Friday, do you think they are open tomorrow? I was already making plans to hire another taxi to go get that part, would they even carry it? Aye aye aye…

Christian was very calm and persistent, wouldn’t give up, told me, maybe this mechanic friend of mine can help, let’s go… Another hairy ride to the other side of town and we arrived at this small mechanic shop where a bunch of very young young men were seating under a tree, looking at some mechanic thing going on on what looked like a brand new small cylinder Honda. Excited conversations started as soon as we arrived, sure it was something out of the ordinary, my big blue bike drew a lot of attention, everyone wanted to touch it, photos were taken, every body shook my hand. The main mechanic, Angel, stopped right away what he was doing and immediately took charge of the situation. First, he disassembled the brake handle from his gorgeous own street bike, a bright yellow Suzuki some number I don’t recall and tried it on America, close but no cigar. Christian then interpreted in a very few words what sounded like a very long discussion, maybe a friend can solder the part, we had to look for soldering in google translate of course. Great idea I said, and Angel zoomed away on his bike. I took my gear off, no more helmet, I was offered some Coca-Cola, sit down relax they said, and the questions kept coming. You know the usual, where are you from, where are you going, how fast does this bike goes, how many cc, how much does it cost, what do you have in these bags, is it heavy to drive, the works…

Angel came back, saying not to worry, the part will be ready in 30 minutes, and resumed his previous task, I was elated… About an hour passed, Christian was still with me, chatting about his newborn baby, showing me pictures of his wife and his kid, he was just 22 years old I learned, and I thought that he was a real fine young man, showing empathy, being so positive and ressourceful, he must have had a real good upbringing, I told him I had a daughter 10 years older than he his, and showed him pictures of my kids, all the friends were agglutinated beyond my phone, that was a very powerful moment, I wanted to hug them all with their common quest to help me out.

Angel got a call, he was going to fetch the part that was now ready, I was told this costed 200 pesos, I gave him a banknote of 500, he said not to worry, I’ll bring the change. I understood then that he had no intention to charge me anything, I protested and told him, no you keep the change, and if it works, I’ll give you another 500, he seemed incredulous, he shook my hand firmly and zoomed again away…

A joint was passed around, it would have been impolite to say no, so I had just a puff, they all laughed and slapped my back, I was one of them now! Angel came back all smiles, the piece was tried on, but needed some tweaking. They actually fabricated a whole new part to fit what needed to fit. Obviously I cannot explain, being mechanically challenged as I am, but I understand that now some hard filing had to be done, and so they did file it and refined it so that it was as perfect as possible! I was delirious with joy, I was asked to try the new brake, so I mounted America and turned her around, and run a few demonstration turns, got really fast and braked really hard, fantastic! It worked beautifully, that was it, the Trip was saved, again!!!

I paid Angel another 500 pesos, he hugged me, I took Christian aside and give him his well deserved banknote as well, another hug, and I ordered pizza for everyone in attendance. It took a while to arrive and when I asked for the bill, magically I had just exactly enough Mexican cash to pay the pizza delivery guy, including a 20 pesos tip, but I was now totally broke, well until the next trip to an ATM…

It was about 2pm when I left after a few selfies with the gang, I still had a few hours of riding daylight. My heart was singing, I was incredibly moved to tears, thinking how wonderful this world was, thanking the universe again and again, and for sure, I’ll never forget Arriaga and its fucking wind…