The Old Steel Rat
The Pan-American highway stretches from the Northern tip of Alaska to the bottom of the world, at Tierra del Fuego. It is uninterrupted, except for a 100 mile stretch of impenetrable jungle on the border between Panama and Colombia, known as the Darien Gap. There has never been a serious attempt to build a road through the gap, and thus the Americas are connected by land, but not by road.
Every overlander who wishes to cross between North and South America must somehow bridge the gap. Some crate their vehicles up and fly them, some form groups and share a shipping container, and the cheapest negotiate passage with fishing boats (a great way to end up in a lot of trouble for illegally smuggling one’s vehicle). For motorcyclists, there is a famous, iconic solution — The Stahlratte.
Built in the early 1900s, the massive Dutch sailing vessel has been carrying motorcyclists around the Darien for the past ten years. It appears in so many overlanding stories that it’s almost become a rite of passage — are you on a motorcycle adventure through the Americas? Better get on the Stahlratte.
I waited almost a month in Panama for the boat’s next scheduled departure. Other motorcyclists began to arrive — first I met Geert (BMW R1200GS) and then we met Poel (BMW R1200GS). On the day of departure, the three of us crossed into the semi-autonomous zone of Kuna Yala, and rode down to the dock at Carti. There, we met six other motorcyclists. We were greeted at the dock by Captain Ludwig.
“Hi guys! Let’s load the bags on to the boat first, starting with zis one. Did you know zat, in the Kuna language ‘zis one’ means ‘my dick’? And ‘zat one’ means ‘grandfather dick’! So be careful when saying zis one or zat one, because if you offend the Kuna, zey will throw you in jail for a couple of days! Zere are many Kuna gayboys and zey don’t get to have very much sex, so you will probably get raped zere by 11 or 12 of zem at once! Anyway, let’s load the bags. Did you guys ever notice zat ‘gracias’ sounds like ‘crazy ass’?”
Welcome aboard the Stahlratte. Please keep your seat belt fastened at all times, it’s gonna be a wild ride.
When he came to my bike, he looked at it with surprise. “Zat’s a street bike!”
“Yes it is!”
“I have not seen zat before!”
I feel like I should get a badge.
We spent the first night in a hotel on a tiny island populated by perhaps 20 people. One of the guys somehow hilariously managed to purchase cocaine from one of those 20 people and invited everyone to his room to do some lines — I didn’t take him up on his offer, but it was nice of him to ask. The island was beautiful, but I couldn’t imagine living somewhere so isolated.
The next day, we sailed to the islands of San Blas. It was also beautiful, and I took a bunch of pictures. We rested there for a day, and then sailed to Cartagena.
Sitting on the boat out in the open seas, battling seasickness and drinking $1 beers, I decided that I’m glad they never got around to completing the Panamerican highway through the Darien Gap. As North America disappeared into our wake and South America slowly made itself visible, I felt an immense sense of accomplishment. I’d ridden to the end of my continent. Bring on the next one.
