Although my season in Boquete, Panama has transitioned to Ciudad Colón, Costa Rica, there are still so many great stories to tell. One of which was my electric bike experience.
Making your way through Central America is one thing….traveling on a vagabond budget takes the adventure to a whole other level. Boquete, Panama is known for it’s perfect micro-climates, picturesque hiking through lush mountain scapes and a multitude of loops and winding roads for cyclists.
One of the many reasons I chose Boquete as a place to call home for a season was that it met several of the requirements for my ideal living environment. Boquete offered comfortable year round weather, natural surroundings, and most importantly it was a walkable city of 20,000 people with access to everything I needed on foot.
While living in Boquete you will find the average expat in Boquete driving a recent model SUV or perhaps a truck. Others make use of the relatively inexpensive taxis to get around the centrally laid out town know as the Valley of Flowers. In my case, I was committed to living on less than $1,000 per month. This required many, many miles on foot as my primary mode of transportation. Since my tiny casa was beautifully situated about 8 km near the peak of one of the mountains near the entrance to Volcan National Park, most of my days provided an exceptional workout as I trekked up and down the steep incline frequently for my groceries and basic supplies or to meet a friend for a coffee. This not only saved me a considerable amount of dinero on taxi fare but also got my legs and lungs in triathlon condition over many months.
In considering the option of a bike or electric bike for transportation in Boquete, the first point of note is that a decent bike can be obtained for the cost of just one or two car payments. Recently, I decided to sell my car back in the U.S. as gas prices continue to spiral out of control and I considered my footprint in the world. As of this writing, gas prices have escalated in Boquete and it simply makes sense to consider friendlier and healthier alternatives.
Just a few months into my time in Boquete, a new neighbor moved in nextdoor to my place, Jesus from Venezuela. Jesus also happened to be an avid cyclist and worked for an online bike shop. I will never forget the day I spotted the shiny blue electric bike on his front porch. It was like love at first sight. I knew in that first glance that bike was meant for me. Fortunately, Jesus was using other bikes at the time and said he would be happy to sell me the bike, and I was free to try it out for as long as I wanted. Like a kid on Christmas Day, I couldn’t wait to get out on the mountain and try it out. The fun was about to begin.
My first test on the bike was to meet Jesus early one morning in the center of town. The plan was to pick up the bike, get a few groceries, then test my legs riding the bike five miles up the mountain to get home. The whole idea behind getting an electric bike was to get about 40% worth of help back up the mountain. I had walked the mountain many times and I knew that making it back up with 25 pounds of groceries on my back would prove to be impossible without the added help of Thomas Edison.
On the morning I picked up the bike, I was excited and eager to embark on the adventure. I met Jesus early as planned to get the bike, picked up my groceries and loaded them into my backpack, then set out from town to tackle the mountain. One thing I have learned from living in Central America for the past year is that there is a very laid back approach to everything and one most continually lower their expectations again and again. Let’s just say that it is not an unusual occurrence that often details get missed. In this case, it was my expectation that the bike would be fully charged up by Jesus that was to be shattered. Jesus had failed to plugged in the bike to charge it up before sending me off on my soon to be excruciating excursion.
Excited and unaware, I set out on my trek up the mountain with my backpack full of groceries in tow. It was a glorious ride, cruising through town with my Ray Ban’s on, enjoying an electric boost or two as needed. I was loving every minute on this electric bike. As I began making my way up the winding ascent, I began to notice a couple of things…if I stopped peddling at all, the electric boost stopped as well. So I kept peddling without interruption. Secondly, I noticed the power meter on the bike was suddenly approaching empty. I had a good 4 miles still to go straight up the mountain. It should also be noted at this point that an electric bike is considerably heavier than an average bike, this one tipping the scale at fifty pounds as compared to an average bike of less than twenty.
Very quickly, I found it impossible to keep peddling and the power was now completely empty. I stared in wonder up the mountain. I jumped off of the bike and began walking…and pushing…and walking…and pushing. For a number of years I did triathlons and marathons, but nothing in my years of training had prepared me for this. I alternated between feeling as though my lungs were going to explode out of my chest and then feeling like the detonation would come from my thighs. There were times I considered sitting beside the road and simply crying like a small child, but I knew this would not serve in any way to get me and my melting butter back home. So I sucked it up and pushed and pushed until I couldn’t push anymore. Finally, I made it home just before the rain unleashed. According to my phone I had completed 174 flights of stairs in just under two hours.
Let this account in no way serve as a cautionary tale against getting around Boquete by bike, electric or otherwise. The cautionary tale might be if ever embarking anywhere in the mountains on an electric bike, be absolutely sure in advance that it is fully charged. Then making your way around by electric bike becomes a fun, enjoyable adventure.
View from the Road
The Indigenous Ngábe Bugle people of Panama
In my simple casa up on the mountain in Panama, my only surrounding neighbors were the indigenous Ngábe Bugle. They normally came to pick coffee during the harvest season and lived in shacks of housing provided by the farms. Still they were the kindest and seemingly happiest people I met in Panama. During my 6 months there, I learned more of their language than I did Spanish, mostly from greeting and engaging them on my many walks. I don’t thing they had ever run into anyone quite like me before, by the looks on their faces. There were days I would be inside working on my laptop and I could hear the women singing while washing their laundry on the rocks just outside. The annual income of a Ngábe family is $425 per year.
Field Notes
“It is good to come to a country you know practically nothing about. Your thoughts grow still, useless. … In a country you know nothing about, there is no reference point. You struggle to associate colors, smells, dim memories. You live a little like a child, or an animal.”
— Andrzej Stasiuk
From the Archives
Please enjoy Monkeys on Mi Casa from the archives.
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