My mistake yesterday was pretending to know what the word ‘terracería’ meant. I asked a fellow from Santiago in Atitlán: What’s the road to San Pedro like? He said: “It’s fine, but there’s a little over a mile of ‘terracería’ (rough dirt road)”. I thought terracería meant some gravel or dirt. When I found myself facing a kind of road that even motocross bikes struggle with, I realized the size of my stupidity. It was already too late to turn back, so I just gave Roro a little pat of encouragement and head forward.
My good luck was running into a couple of Police vans and another one from the Atitlán Lake Volunteer Firefighters. They helped me pick up my bike both times it fell to the ground and it seems they patrol this road because it’s a nest of criminals who attack foolish tourists like me.
This is proof that a Vulcan 500 can take whatever comes at her, even when its owner is temporarily missing a few neurons.