The Guy with the Van

If the best decision was to travel to Guatemala on our bike trip, the second best decision was to hire a guy with a van. In fact, we hired two guys with two vans.

To ride with panniers or not was a key debating point during preparations for the trip. Thankfully, common sense prevailed, and we ultimately agreed it would be a whole lot easier to ride without panniers. Indeed, that decision was vindicated after the first day, for it would have been very difficult to have biked 87 miles from Hopkins to San Ignacio in Belize with an extra 25-30 lbs of stuff on bike racks. And we know now that it would have been nearly
impossible for us middle aged geezers to cross the mountains with that extra weight.

We also felt great about the decision because of Jose, the first Guy with a Van, who patiently hauled our stuff in Belize. Both drivers were hired thru a Guatemalan tour company, Via Venture (click here) and their very professional Lucy Ashman. We settled, after some brief haggling, on a price of USD 3,884 - $971 per head for the four of us. It would be the largest line item of expense any of us would incur on this trip. And it was worth every penny.

Due to the vagaries of the border crossing between Belize and Guatemala, Jose handed us off to another Guy with a Van, Edgar, who was to accompany us all the way across Guatemala. Edgar was our driver, companion, advance scout, Mayan language teacher, cultural guide and tour director. He had an uncanny knowledge of all the roads we traveled – advising in advance the precise location of tumulos (speed bumps), washed out sections of road and the type of hills we’d be climbing. That information alone proved Edgar’s value, for it probably saved life and limb as we descended torn up Guatemalan roads.

As another example of Edgar’s valuable knowledge of the roads, on the day we left Coban at a key turn on the comfortable road we were biking, we climbed a small rise to find Edgar waving us onto a narrow rutted dirt road. It looked like a beat up old driveway – this couldn’t be the road to Chichi, could it? That road was supposed to be a highway, but, of course, it was the right road, and with all the detailed maps in the world, we never would have known it was the right way without Edgar.

Edgar’s value to making our trip successful can be measured in different ways as well. In every town we stayed, Edgar took us to the best restaurants; not the fanciest, the best. Without a doubt, the final bill was always cheaper than it would have been if we had just been four gringos. Many of the towns we passed through were Mayan towns and the locals often did not speak Spanish. Edgar, who is Mayan and hails from the town of El Estor on Lago Izabal in eastern Guatemala, would translate for us and help us to briefly connect with the villagers. Had we been on our own, our trip would have had far fewer of these human moments. He also took the initiative to have plenty of water in the van as well as assorted fruit; the sight of Edgar waving from the side of the road with freshly cut watermelon, cantaloupe, oranges or bananas in one hand and his machete in the other was one of the small delights of this trip. And Edgar could hold his liquor, a quality we judged highly.

The only thing Edgar failed at – and he failed quite miserably – was poker. The poor guy loved Texas hold ‘em, but he sure didn’t know when to fold ‘em. The only thing that saved Edgar from utter ruin was the fact we played with Guatemalan Quetzales worth 8.25 to $1.00. (Actually, we played with peanuts and tooth picks, but the pot would rarely go beyond 20-30 Quetzales).

Edgar also suffered from one occupational hazard of accompanying bicyclists on a tour of his country – he put on weight, lots of weight. After riding 8-9 hours a day, we were pretty hungry. For the most part, Edgar was sitting in his van the whole day, but at dinner he tucked into the food as much as we did. By the end of the trip on the beach at Sipacate, he was as excited as we were, his stomach as wide as the grin on his face. Our director sportif enjoyed the beers and the rum that night as much as we did. (But no, he still did not enjoy the cards…..:)