The first significant destination from Granada on my Central American cycling tour with Explore was Ometepe Island, a large dumbbell shaped island in Lake Nicaragua with two striking volcanos (Concepcion and Maderas), one on each side. There are supposedly 40,000 people living on the quite fertile island which appears mostly given over to raising cattle and bananas and serving tourists. Ometepe is mostly a backpacker type travel destination with lots of rustic inexpensive accommodations and plenty of time to "chill out" and do the types of things young backpackers do.

The island is by far the largest in the huge lake which somewhat defines the country and is important in its history and potentially its future . There is currently a major plan under consideration by Nicaragua with huge Chinese investment to create a second canal across Central America by enlarging the San Juan River from the Atlantic to the lake and building a new channel to the Pacific, an engineering project that would make building the Panama Canal look like a small undertaking and would likely cause major environmental devastation.

Anyway, the two night trip to Ometepe Island involved a quite overcrowded passenger ferry which could take on a few vehicles as well, a very third-worldish experience in which I wondered if there was a chance there might acutally be need for the lifejackets they required everyone to put on. The crossing to the island took about an hour and a half despite the seemingly short distance. From the port town on Ometepe named Moyagalpa it was about a seven mile bike ride on a decent and relatively flat paved road to the lakeside resort named Charco Verde, a pleasant place of cute (air-conditioned) cottages and a decent restaurant . The beach looked very inviting, especially considering how broiling hot Nicaragua is, but the volcanic sand turned out to be a quite slimy and rocky surface that creates very murky water and not very pleasant swimming.

Our Costa Rican guide Christopher gave us several options for activities for our full day on Ometepe. These ranged from lying on the beach at the resort all day all the way to a major mountain bike ride around one of the sides of the dumbbells on the island, with intermediate options of cycling to some hot springs for the afternoon or a somewhat longer ride to a spot for sea kayaking on the lake. Being the glutton for punishment, I chose the most hardcore option, the 42 mile (71 km) bike ride that included traveling all the way around the Maderas Volcano side of Ometepe, a trip that included over 20 miles on a rough dirt track. “Heck, if other people can do it, I can too! I've done harder bike rides than that at higher elevations in Colorado! I’m a he-man!”

I should mention on this that we left the backup support of a van back on the mainland and were sort of “on our own” for the long ride (although a van on the island transported our bags between the port and the resort we stayed at) . Of the eleven in the group, I was one of the four who decided on the long ride, the other three being significantly older but arguably much fitter than I am. The instructions were basic, “Just keep peddling and always keep the volcano to your left. You can’t get lost!”

One fear I have of group activities like this one is being pushed to go beyond my ability level, so I happily let the others get ahead of me to go at my own speed. I know I can always make it if I go at my own pace and take breaks as needed, but it’s another story trying to keep up with others. Anyway, as the morning progressed into midday the ride became ever more excruciating on an almost cloudless day that was likely around 95*F (35*C) in the shade. I found myself walking up the hills, most of which were arguably not all that tough under more favorable conditions, and guzzling water by the liter, purchasing more from every little tienda I could find along the way. At one point I seriously thought I might be suffering from heatstroke, one of my biggest concerns since I don’t handle physical activity in hot weather very well . I decided to stop for a while, sit against a rock in the shade under some banana trees, and try to cool off, but with water now almost the same temperature as the air the perspiration kept running off me like a stream. I decided to ride for a while without my shirt or helmet since they felt at that point like they were doing nothing but intensifying the heat my body was giving off.

Not much farther after a significant descent I found a small tienda with some ice cold water. I guzzled about a liter and a half and felt much cooler. Not much farther along the way I caught up with Christopher waiting for me at a different store and had some cold Gatorade and some peanuts and potato chips for salt. I felt 75% better.

Within another hour or so I made it to relatively flat paved road and not far beyond even came to a few restaurants. Yes, lunch, that’s what I’ve been fantasizing about for almost three hours since noon! The one I picked wasn’t just a typical little Central American comedor, but a “farm-to-table” place with an extensive menu of international foods using ingredients the menu claimed were all from their farm . My first order of business was a beer. Yes, I know that alcohol is a diuretic, but I also know it only becomes so at a blood alcohol concentration that one beer isn’t going to get a big guy like me to. My bigger issue concern was salt loss from excessive perspiration, and the carbohydrates and minerals in beer have some of the properties Gatorade is so known for. That downed, the next thing that arrived was the best batido (smoothie) I’ve ever had – avocado, ginger, and passion fruit. It was absolutely scrumptious! I usually don’t have high expectations for the quality of pasta dishes in Latin America, but my lunch of homemade fettucine with roasted chicken, sundried tomatoes, basil, and peppers was one of the best pasta dishes I’ve had in a long time.

Finally feeling cooled down and thoroughly refreshed, I decided to wait until almost 4:00 P.M. to continue on, late enough that I was confident I’d be able to make in across the isthmus and over the big hump back to Charco Verde before dusk but late enough that the sun would be lower in the sky and temperature slightly lower to make the end of the journey less hellish .

I made it back to camp just as the sun was setting. I had some mixed feelings about the day. I can’t say it was in any way pleasant to do such a strenuous activity in such heat or that I made the right decision to do so risking heatstroke. On the other hand, I know my limits in a way I’m not sure the three guys who each went off on their own ahead of me did. They similarly complained about the heat, dehydration, and even disorientation, but somehow felt the need to push through as rapidly as possible.

Oh well, I survived. I calculate I consumed over 9 liters of liquids through the course of the day, approximately 8% of my bodyweight, during which I only did a few dribbles of some very brown pee. It was mostly an issue of heat rather than physical difficulty, though. I’ve done much more difficult cycling days in Colorado with my friend Kelly (I call them Kellythons) but would never go out on a really hot day . Later in the evening I actually felt much less tired physically than I did after most of my volcano climbs in Guatemala about a month earlier.

The next morning involved a seven mile ride back to the port for the ferry crossing back to the mainland and then another five mile ride on that side, easy stuff by comparison. I felt pretty good for it and was even leading the pack on the flat road back. OK, I think I’m ready for my next cycling challenge!

The drive to the Costa Rican border took less than an hour. It sounds like there are many horror stories about the border crossing between Nicaragua and Costa Rica. They say it can take many hours of standing in extreme heat to get through to the other side, especially because the authoritarian “socialist” government of Nicaragua and the moderate democratic government of Costa Rica don’t get along very well. Fortunately, we made it through in what our guide Christopher said was for him a nearly record time of only 57 minutes. Buh-bye, Nicaragua!