I had so settled into the relaxed vibe of El Remate that I was reluctant to leave. But, after another amazing breakfast I headed out. Even at 8:30AM it was already hot and humid. Its not so bad when I’m riding because the air blowing through my jacket gives me some evaporative cooling but when I stop or have to go very slow, I get uncomfortable quickly. The first half of my day I was riding though the lowlands. Lots of swampy, wet grasslands. My GPS directed me down a road that dead-ended at a river. I could see the remnants of wooden bridge. The center span had collapsed leaving a thirty foot gap. That’s weird, I though as I turned around and back tracked about two miles. I saw cars going down an unpaved road which was not on my map. I followed and eventually crossed a one lane temporary bridge and then rejoined my original road. About five miles later I saw a long line of vehicles that were stopped. I pulled up at the end of the line and shut off the bike. I could feel the heat in my jacket and helmet rise immediately. A man who was sitting with his wife in the back of a pickup truck in front of me shouted something. I had my earplugs in so I pointed to my helmet and shouted “No puedo escucharte” (I can’t hear you). He point a finger to the sky and made a circle with his hand. The international signal for GO AROUND. I nodded and fired the bike. He gave me a double thumbs up as I rolled by. Unbelievably, I passed a line of vehicles that was more than three miles long! I wasn’t sure what I would find at the end but it wasn’t long before I saw that the road was flooded. There were small flat bottomed boats shuttling vehicles across one at a time. I rolled all the way to the front of the line and waited for someone to direct me. It didn’t take long. A man came over and asked if I spoke Spanish (in Spanish). A little, I replied (also in Spanish). “Un Triunfo Tigre Ochociento… muy bien! (A triumph Tiger 800… very nice!). Before I could say thank you he had is phone out showing me photos of his bike. Ha! Gotta love it! We had a good conversation for a bit and then he said “You can take the next boat”. The small boat arrived, beaching itself and dropping a metal grate off the bow as a makeshift ramp. Visions of my bike sinking to the bottom of the river went though my head. I followed another biker over a muddy sandbar, rolled up the ramp and rode the the back of the boat where the Skipper motioned for me to stop. One more bike load behind me. That’s it. Three bikes. That’s what you can fit on the “ferry”. The Skipper, operating a mighty 15 horse power outboard motor backed the boat away from shore and turned us around. A woman came and collected five Quetzal (about 50 cents). It was about a five minute ride across the river. Long enough for me to contemplate having to turn my bike around ON THE BOAT!. Again visions of my bike sinking to the bottom run through my head. With a bit of a jolt, the boat beached itself once again and I let the other bikes depart first. The boat was just wide enough for me to make a, not so elegant, 12-point-turn to reverse my direction. I rolled up and over the bow and down the metal grate. A few bystanders clapped as I reached the beach. The landing seemed to be right in the middle of a busy market. The street was so crowned with vendors and pedestrians that I had to practically walk the bike for several blocks. Well that was interesting I though as I finally cleared the market and found my road again. The later part of the day, I started up into the mountains. It was slow going with twisting, steep roads, lots of truck traffic and many small towns (with speed bumps… called tumlos). I went from 100 feet in the lowlands to over 4500 feet by reaching the city of Cobán. The temperature mercifully dropped from a sticky 92ª to a pleasant 74º. I’m camping at a coffee plantation for the night. I arrived just before dark so I will take a tour of their cooperative in the morning.