And then, things changed quite a lot.

We played with this guy for a long time. No, I didnt transform into a praying mantis, but that would be cool.

So, as the days progressed, I found myself having a different view of my current status of travelling through Nicaragua on bike. I found that, after Panama being reached, and after my brothersisterRobart being met in San Jose, travelled with, and left, I really didnt have too much of a goal to ride towards. I found myself finding it almost pointless to spend many hours pouring through the hot sun, riding by groups of people who all looked on with awe (or confusion, or amusement) as I passed. I found the short conversations that I had with people as I rode by not exactly fulfilling. And an idea, that I had thought about numerous times before, crept back into my head...
Why not give away my bike?
After arriving in Leon (and riding all of 33km that day, finishing the 120km sprint), I spent a night in the city outside a school with a friendly security guard. The next morning, taking note of the increased amounts of squeaking in my bike as the kilometres progressed, I took it to a bikeshop, spent 4 dollars US and regreased and bascially rebuilt the entire beast.
After leaving Leon, I road north, passing through the volcano chain in Nicaragua, and covering a total of 45km that day as I crashed in my tent behind the house of a motorcycle mechanic.
The next day, after beginning to climb off of the sealevel dryzone in western Nicaragua, I found myself stopping more and more often, for snacks, to chat, or to look and find where newly discovered sounds where coming from. And then, I stopped again, saw a group of people and thought;
Why not give away my bike? To them?
.. I sat and pondered for almost half an hour, on the side of the road, relaxing in the shade, snacking on the sweetbread I had bought that morning. I had such a strong draw, to just go up, make friends, and say, "Here. You can use this." I felt like I had finished this bike trip already. I felt like that I was just wasting time, trying to live cheaply while I waited for the days to tick by before I returned to Canada. I felt like my bike had served me well, and our time together was finished. There wasnt a bone in my body that thought sourly of the thought of just handing it over, for someone else to enjoy, to give the bike yet another life.
In the end, purly because I felt like I was giving up if I stopped then, I decided to keep climbing.
After about 200m, I came across another tienda (small store), and the entrance to a small town. I stopped, again, walked over, and purchased a bag of milk, because milk is tastey. I smiled to the people in and outside the shop, and stopped and talked. After a few minutes, it was revealed to me that there were open gold mines in the area, and that the children there could take me on a tour of them if I wanted. I was sold.
After a night of being treated like a son, again, by the family I had just met, I walked up to the mother of the household, and handed over the keys to my steed. I stripped her (.. the bike.) down of all my gear, did some last minutes maintenence and upkeep, leaned her up against their wall, and smiled at how pretty that bike really was. Frickin caddilack.
That night consisted of a small semi-intentional party by the family (which was well recieved by me, as I had just finally ended my epic bike trip). It also consisted of a little (at first..) random gift giving to me. I took them as a kind jesture at first, but when this poor family started handing over personal belongings to me, I started feeling quite ackward. In order to accept the gifts that were being pushed towards me (in exchange for the bicycle), I managed to trade some of the belongings that I already had, just so I did not feel as strange taking so many gifts from this family, whom I had not wanted anything in return from except continued friendliness.
In the end, I left with food (both in my belly and in my bag), some jean shorts, many a bag of tasty home-made chocolate banana milk in my stomach, an english-as-a-second-language book in spanish, and a toy horse.

So, that was then. From then, I travelled north to San Rafael del Norte by bus with all of my crap (heavy, heavy crap), met borthersistaRob and proceeded to have a currently continuing awesome time here with the Nicaraguan friends I had already made. Our current plans are to leave here either tomorrow or the next day, by bus towards the Bay Islands of Honduras, and then to Guatemala, where we will proceed to have a killer time till its time to header back to the freakishly cold climate of Canada. Man. This trip feels like it began such a short.. well, no. Feels like a long frickin trip. Well, it doesnt even feel like a trip, not any more. It feels like life.

Photos:
Above and below: A very large lizard. That was captured, killed, cooked, and then eaten, by us. To celebrate.Hey Michelle! A bull! Frickin gargantuan head.

Harrison, walking near San Rafeal del Norte, on one of our many awesome experiences that weve had here.

Anyways, take care. Thanks for continuing to show an interest in my well being and do-goodings.

Tyler