Yesterday I dreamt that I found myself lying in one of the softest twin beds all around, in a hotel in the country of Costa Rica, near nice calm pacific waters. Howling monkeys were nearby and I even saw large colorful birds flying. The hotel probably rated as a five star. That was all true; I really was in Costa Rica and on an Ultimate Riding adventure.
And as I slept, I even dreamt about feeling the warmth of the warm tropical air and wind in my face. I was riding a KTM 690 adventure motorcycle around the Costa Rica countryside. Anywhere I looked the scenery was all green, mountainous and invitingly beautiful.

This morning it’s an entirety different story; I’m still in Costa Rica where I just woke up in possibly a one star hotel, with cockroaches walking on the walls, a single ice cold spigot of water in the bathroom and Yoda Roberto earlier used up the last of the toilet paper.
My arms and legs are all mosquito or other type of bug bitten, my arms ache all over from riding, and all my gear now, including my riding helmet is still wet from last night. My body feels like a sole survivor of an East Indian train wreck.
The idea for the return ride to our hotel after lunch was a great one. We would split up into two groups. One group would go directly to the hotel that according to google maps was only 1.5 hours away or 35 kilometers.
The second group would ride out to see a cemetery at low tide. Or, thats at least how I interpreted the conversation from the inside of my helmeted monkey brain.

Four of us would take what we would call a green route. The easiest possible route to get to the destination. And then the entire universe decided that all good deeds on this full moon night in the month of December 2022 shall not go unpunished.
The problem started with not having a suitable mount on the motorcycle to hold our iPhone for navigation and then it all went downhill from here. Too much to now describe in this short story so you’ll have to wait for the unabridged version.
What follows is the stuff you read in books where people tell you about a misadventure or other catastrophe or even catastrophic event that uprooted their very existence.
Hours and hours and hours of riding around looking for our hotel on jungly up and down country roads without so much of a hint of any form of civilization………………and right after nightfall I wind up going over the edge of a riverbed ledge; fully submerging myself in the flowing river waters that we must’ve crossed at least six times. Only this time there’s two brightly lit eyes staring out at me.
The KLR Kawasaki motorcycle will have its oil changed this morning and the ride will continue the same as this story:
TO BE CONTINUED
WRITTEN MUCH MUCH EARLIER:
Normally it takes me a while to learn everyone’s names but, not on this ride. Yoda Roberto is now holding “court” with Yoda Heiner as Yoda Louis looks on. He’s giving them a simplified gps Kevin class on how our riders never get lost. How appropriate I thought; knowing hindsight is 20/20.
Johann is standing nearby already locked and loaded with all his safety equipment on and ready for riding once we get off the ferry. Chris is to my left. We visited the cantina earlier and Chris bought us two Cuba Libre cans of 8% alcoholic drinks and a chicken stuffed croissant.
In the next sitting station holds the three brothers, Adam, Steve and Gregg. Mike is holding his head down like he is trying for a quick nap.
Colorado is wearing dark sunglasses and an orange overcoat, looking like he recently robbed a bank and is now stowing himself away on a ferry for a quick getaway.
Hawaii Walter is somewhere other than in the air conditioned comforts of the passenger compartment. Yoda Roberto is still animated in how “no” no one ever gets lost on our rides, really!

To dream of traveling to a destination on a motorcycle may represent your craving to see the world as it really is.
Trawlercat