Weather and cost forced us to pause our motorcycle journey after 48 days, 9 countries, and over 7,000 miles, choosing to return home and resume in spring for a better experience. While grateful for the adventure and support, we’re already planning the second half of the trip for October 2026, knowing we belong back on the road.

On our ride from Pasto to Ibarra, we stumbled into a highway protest, turned tension into laughter by handing out smokes and taking selfies, and somehow got waved through after becoming the main attraction. We capped off the day visiting the breathtaking Las Lajas Sanctuary and breezing through the border, laughing about how we accidentally disrupted a national protest.

We left Valle del Cauca at sunrise, adjusting our route after cartel warnings, and pushed hard through Colombia’s winding, traffic-filled mountain roads, covering 326 miles in just over seven hours while passing stunning, hand-worked farmland. Just before dark we rolled into Pasto, grabbed burgers, skipped the nightlife, and turned in after a long day ready for an “interesting” border crossing ahead.

We rode out of Bogotá’s chaotic “full combat” traffic into Colombia’s stunning mountain highways, stopping for a memorable (and questionable) roadside breakfast and a scenic lunch in Salento before carving endless curves through breathtaking countryside.

By day’s end, we arrived unannounced at Donkey Sunrise, where we were welcomed in, shared Aguardiente around the fire with fellow riders, and capped off a perfect 244-mile day.

What was supposed to be a quick day retrieving our bikes in Bogotá turned into a long, chaotic ordeal of wrong drop-offs, airport access struggles, and hours of waiting on slow-moving import paperwork. By the time we finally got the bikes back late in the day, we were exhausted, overcharged at dinner, and ready to put the whole frustrating experience behind us.

We flew from Panamá City to Bogotá, and the moment we landed in South America it finally felt real our bikes and our adventure had officially crossed continents. After settling in, we explored the city, took in the incredible views from Monserrate, raced go-karts at a mall, and ended our first day in Colombia celebrating with food, friends, and a thunderstorm.

After an interesting Uber ride to the Overland Embassy, we met Ian an Irish rider living in Canada before heading to the airport to get our bikes through customs and ready to ship to South America. With the paperwork done, we split up to explore Panamá City some visiting the Panama Canal, others hunting bike parts and sushi before reuniting for Korean BBQ, drinks, and a final tequila with our bartender Gabby.

We rode from Penonomé to Panama City with our new friend Robert through beautiful farmland and mountains until a sudden tropical storm flooded the highway, forcing us to shelter our bikes under a tiny taco shop roof. After the rain passed, we delivered our bikes to be air-shipped to Bogotá since the Darién Gap stops the road between continents then celebrated our first night without them with good food, drinks, and some hilariously bad karaoke.

We crossed from Costa Rica into Panama after a smooth border process and rode through surprisingly lush, Jurassic-Park-like mountains until a motorcycle cop pulled us over in a small town. After he and Red saved a bike from tipping over and shared a hug instead of a ticket, we continued to Penonomé for sushi, drinks, and plans to meet a friend and ride into Panama City together the next day.

We left Puntarenas early hoping to beat the heat and traffic, filtering past construction delays on the bikes and stopping for a refreshing swim at a quiet national park beach before continuing south. Later, after getting pulled over for a risky pass and narrowly escaping $400 tickets when the officer’s system wouldn’t process our info, we rode the rest of the way carefully and reached the border town of Paso Canoas.

We celebrated one month on the road and a string of successful border crossings with a quiet day off in Puntarenas, a sleepy cruise port town on Costa Rica’s Pacific coast. After exploring beaches, planning the route ahead, and watching the sunset, it felt surreal standing in the ocean under the stars especially knowing we had ridden our motorcycles there all the way from Oregon.

Our ride from Managua to the Costa Rica border took us through beautiful, ever-changing landscapes, small towns with simple daily life, and the windy lakeside of Lago Cocibolca lined with towering windmills that pushed us sideways down the road. After a long 4.5-hour border crossing, we celebrated arriving in Costa Rica with a meal, rode on to Puntarenas, and ended the day with a perfect nighttime swim in the Pacific.

Running behind schedule, we decided to send it and head from Choluteca, Honduras to Managua, Nicaragua without successfully submitting the required border notice, unsure if we’d be turned away for seven days. Along the way a rider David Flores of the Osos Viejos MC guided us through the six-step border process, proving that riders really do look out for riders before we finally rolled into Managua and ended the day laughing over McDonald’s.

We crossed from El Salvador into Honduras, navigating confusing border offices, endless paperwork, and rumors that new regulations might keep us from entering Nicaragua unless we gave seven days’ notice and shipped our gear ahead. After hours of worry and a silent ride to Choluteca, a strong drink, good food, and a friendly local helped us end the day with a plan for getting into Nicaragua.

We left Antigua early after a tequila-heavy night and spent six hot, traffic-filled hours riding 200 miles through Central America, passing cars at speed bumps and losing time and money to a common copy scam at the El Salvador border. By evening we reached a cool loft in Santiago Nonualco, found good food and friendly locals, and ended the day laughing after discovering a chunk of metal stuck harmlessly in Red’s rear tire tread.

On our rest day in Antigua Guatemala, we finalized plans for Panama, performed preventative maintenance on the bikes, and explored the city’s historic churches, markets, and welcoming streets. After a great dinner at Brooklyn Pizza where we connected with fellow riders, it was time to turn in and prepare for our border crossing into El Salvador.

The ride from Huehuetenango to Antigua delivered exhilarating mountain roads carved into towering ridges, sweeping volcano views, and a breathtaking descent to Lago de Atitlán. After navigating chaotic traffic and cobblestones, we soaked in lakeside beauty, refreshed with iced coffee and a quick swim, then explored the vibrant, history-filled streets of Antigua.

Leaving 99.5% of Mexico behind, we wound through mountain roads into Guatemala’s lush canyons and finished day 23 in Huehuetenango with a great Italian dinner beneath four Oregon license plates hanging on the wall.

After extending our stay in San Cristóbal due to a weekend border closure, we unexpectedly witnessed celebrations erupt when cartel violence flared elsewhere in Mexico, then rode out in the rain Monday morning to complete a surprisingly smooth four-stop crossing into Guatemala.

Leaving 99.5% of Mexico behind, we wound through mountain roads into Guatemala’s lush canyons and finished day 23 in Huehuetenango with a great Italian dinner beneath four Oregon license plates hanging on the wall.

Blessed with the freedom to explore Mexico, we rode east from Salinas Cruz into the mountains to vibrant San Cristóbal de las Casas, where cobblestone streets, colorful buildings, rich history, and an unexpected border-delay extension gave us time to fully enjoy El Centro’s markets, bakeries, and nightly jazz.

Between cave hikes and zip lines at El Arcotete, sampling fiery Pox, and preparing for Guatemala, we soaked up every extra moment bittersweet to leave, but excited for the long road south toward Patagonia.

We rode east from Puerto Escondido into the Oaxaca highlands, climbing from swaying coconut palms to 9,000-foot forests of pine and cypress, winding through forgotten villages and steep, unpredictable mountain roads before landing in the funky charm of San José del Pacífico. After a Tuk Tuk ride, a few wrong turns into the unknown, and a triumphant return to civilization, we settled near Salinas Cruz for a quiet night by the beach, already plotting the next adventure.