It was a steady climb out of San Jose but I soon reached Cartago where I stopped in a park to have lunch. There I met Juan who had lived in Vancouver for a year. He had a Canadian flag on his bike and two on his knapsack. He invited me to his house for lunch where I met his wife and their four year old son as well as two stepsons. They served a lentil, rice and bean dish with tortillas as we conversed in Spanish. After lunch, Juan took me to the grocery store and found a cheap guest house where I could stay for the night.

        The next day, my cold was not much better and I did not feel I could start the big climb over La Muerte, "Death Mountain", that was to be my next big challenge at over 10,000 feet. I paid for another night at the guest house and spent the day reading "Into Thin Air" a true story of tragedy on Mount Everest. It seemed the appropriate book to read as I was about to attempt my own "Little Mount Everest"!

        On November 17, I still had not recovered from my cold but I could not wait around any longer. I stocked up on food and water and, after a short downhill, the climb began. However, it was a gradual zigzag up the mountain with places to pull over at the side. After about 20 kilometers of climbing, the fog started to roll in and I decided to set up camp for the night.

        In the morning, it was raining lightly and the fog remained. I rode a few kilometers in the dark, cold, wet, foggy mess when I arrived at a roadside restaurant in the middle of nowhere. I pulled in to have lunch and to get warm. Outside, the weather got worse and an incredible wind came up. On the TV, I heard there was a big storm centered over the Caribbean coast. I spent the afternoon hanging around the restaurant waiting for the storm to subside but, it never did. I asked the restaurant owner if I could camp at the side of the building out of the wind. It was not that easy to sleep, however, as it was Karoke night at the bar and the guy doing the singing couldn't sing his way out of a paper bag.

         In the morning, the wind had died down but it was still foggy. The restaurant owner offered me a cup of tea and I was on my way. It started to get colder as I climbed higher, the fog continued along with a light drizzle, and the traffic was heavy. What with not feeling well, the terrible weather, the thin air and the frequent stopping, progress was very slow. I arrived at another roadside restaurant and stopped for lunch. This seemed to be a rest stop for buses as well and, as people piled off the bus, they gathered around the bike.

         As I carried on climbing, the forest became very dense growing right up to the Highway. I arrived at a tourist outpost where they sold crafts and rented cabins for the night. I was exhausted so I decided to rent a cabin. Heat was provided for by a small brick fire place that was totally inadequate for the size of the room. There was an electric heater on the shower head but there wasn't enough electricity to heat the water. On November 21, I woke up freezing and really didn't feel like taking a cold shower. Outdoors, however, the weather had turned sunny and clear.

         The climb continued but, with the sun shinning and an occasional downhill, I felt like I was making progress. At one of my rest stops, a truck pulled up and a couple of guys jumped out to look at the bike. They had seen me on the news and were very excited to meet up with me. Judging by the amount of horn blowing and cheers as I climbed further up, I assumed that a lot of people had seen me on the news and knew what I was doing. I reached a small truck stop where I was able to buy some water and a snack That night I set up camp at the side of the road and retired early to get refuge from the cold as I listened to Radio Canada on my short-wave radio.

         On November 22, I woke up freezing cold again and found it hard to crawl out of my sleeping bag, but I was determined to reach the top that day. The climb went on forever, zigzagging through rough terrain. Finally after 5 1/2 days of climbing, I reached the top at 3491 meters (11,345 ft). It took me one hour to get down!

         Soon after starting my descent, I stopped at Villa Mills for lunch. The road down was an insane roller coaster ride. I was determined to make up some time after days of climbing so I let loose, averaging about 50 km/hour, passing slow moving transport trucks and steering around big pot holes with cars following behind me as we raced through little towns along the way. Within an hour, I was in San Isidro where I stopped in a park for lunch. I found a cheap hotel for $5 Canadian, basically a closet with a bed and a shared bathroom.

        The next day, I found a shop that would fix my battery charger but since there was no outlet in the room to recharge the battery, I picked up an adapter that coverts a light socket into a power outlet that would allow me to recharge the battery. That night I went to the only movie outlet in town to see "Infidelity" with Richard Gere.

        On November 24, I was still fighting the cold I had caught several days earlier so I paid for another night at the hotel. I then went in search of foam grips for the bike and, after several bike shops, I found grips that were actually better than the original ones.

        From San Isidro, I decided to get off the Pan American Highway and take a less used road that ran along the coast but, I had to climb a few hundred meters over another mountain range to get there. I reached the top by late afternoon and met a couple cyclists going in the opposite direction. The woman was from Thunder Bay, Ontario and the man was from Switzerland. They had started in Managua and had been riding along the coast looking for places to surf. After talking to them for awhile, I flew back down the mountain and arrived in Dominical just as the sun was setting over the Pacific. I found a place to camp on one of the many lots for sale.

         The next morning, I tried to get an early start before the heat became unbearable. There was very little traffic on the road which was wide and had been recently paved, however, it was not as flat as I had hoped. In places, the mountains came right down to the ocean with a lot of gentle ups and downs but the view of the ocean made it all worthwhile. In the late afternoon, I reached Palmar Norte, a real dump of a place with no sign of a hotel. I stocked up on food and water and carried on down the road to find a place to camp. I settled on a spot beside a rusted-out, abandoned Volkswagen Van that had the jungle slowly covering it from view.

         The next day, I passed through many ramshackle hamlets The heat was so oppressive, I became sick to my stomach so I tried riding without my helmet to get some air circulation. It was with supreme effort that I made it to Rio Carlo that day. I had supper and found a cheap hotel, checked in and had a cold shower.