Second Time is a Charm
by Dave Edinger (aka factory rider)

On my first trip to Panama two years ago, I brought my riding gear and was supposed to rent the personal bike of a friend’s relative. I met the relative at a casino where he showed up with a custom chopper. Needless to say, this didn’t work out for several reasons. I was disappointed because I like to ride in every country I travel to if possible. The day before we left, I saw a BMW GS800 with a rental sticker on the saddle bag and approached the rider. It turns out that he had rented it within walking distance of where we were staying, but the opportunity had passed. I never forgot this and hoped to make it right someday.

Fast forward to 2019, I am working on a head of state 787-8 and we needed to test fly it to a warm environment after a cold soak flight. The crew decided on Panama. That put a smile on my face. I got online to try and find the place the guy from the previous trip had rented from. I don’t know if the place I found was the same, but I found a place and sent a mail informing them I was coming and wanted to ride. I never heard back from them but after I arrived, I called and talked to “Darby”, the guy in charge. He said it was a holiday and that he would check his schedule. I brought my own gear but I was trying to talk others into joining me so I asked about additional gear. I was told they had two helmets, some jackets and gloves for rent.

I told Darby I would see who I could get to join me, but I would definitely be there around noon. We needed to go to the plane and work a few items before we could go play. This took longer than planned and it was 2:30 by the time we got to the BMW car/motorcycle dealership to rent bikes and hire guides. I was able to get two colleagues to join me. Neither had ever ridden outside of the U.S. One is a fair-weather Harley rider and the other was a moto crosser with no street bike. Getting the paperwork done was very time consuming. We were losing daylight and rapidly approaching rush hour. Not to mention my ventilated riding jacket was MIA all of a sudden and I had to rent one, much to my dismay.

I chose to go with a guide just because time was of the essence and I didn’t want to waste it getting lost. Finally, we are off into rush hour. If any of you have ridden outside of the U.S., you know you have to be careful but also aggressive and cover both your brakes and your horn. Once out of rush hour traffic in town, it became stop-and-go highway traffic, so some lane splitting came into play. You have to watch because slower areas of the highway have people selling food and drinks between lanes. Another thing to watch for is the lack of turn signaling which is made worse when splitting traffic. There are also a lot of traffic police on the side of the road, both two and four wheelers, and the occasional checkpoint. Sometimes the cops signal you over to check your papers but once they determine you are a foreigner, they almost always signal you to go on.

Click on any photo to enlarge.

As we headed from the Atlantic side of Panama toward the Pacific, there were some hillside fires along the road as well as one in the median. My guess is, a cigarette caused the median fire but I’m not sure about the side of the road hillside fires. Also, along the way, there are a lot of roadside BBQ joints. Some are little more than food trucks but others have large outdoor covered seating. They were all doing a thriving business as evidenced by the numerous cars and 18-wheelers parked on the shoulder

Before long we got off the main road and headed North towards the mountains. There are always dogs along the road in developing countries but they never chase vehicles and are not as aggressive as dogs here in the U.S.

Eventually, we turned off the road onto a private drive which led to a large structure with a Harley Davidson sign and four Harley’s parked under an awning, called the Pacific View Roadhouse. We were greeted by an expat from Miami that had lived in Panama since the 70’s. He walked up and introduced himself as “Bandito Bob” and welcomed us to his facility by saying the first beer is always free for riders. When we walked in, we found a very nice place with a bar, pool tables and a dining area. The sides of the building were open to the view. From this hillside vantage point you could barely make out the Pacific another 10 miles away as the sun was setting through the palm trees. We went out back to see the view from outside and enjoy the fountain, pool and chimenea. We were told Bob’s Panamanian wife made the best burgers so we ordered food and enjoyed adult beverages.

With the sun already set and the temperatures cooling just a bit, it was time to head back to Panama City. What a difference going back. With the traffic flowing, the 110 kilometers went by at a welcome pace. Back in the city, we went to the office to return the bikes but found it closed. One of the guys, (who had asked several times if he could leave his jacket at the dealership) was told, “Sorry, Darby didn’t think you would be back so late.” We decided to have Darby drop off the jacket the next morning. The next day, with the flight crew and engineers loaded on the bus, we waited. Eventually, I received a WhatsApp message that the jacket was on its way. Soon, Darby showed up on his KLR with his wife and the jacket, and we were off to the airport.

Once at the airport, I asked about my motorcycle jacket. I was told by one of our guys that a baggage inspector had seen my jacket on the conveyor belt but when I asked around, I only received shrugs - no jacket. Our handler promised to review the security films from the day before. I honestly thought I would never see the jacket again and told myself it was time to replace it anyway. However, hours later with the doors closed and the plane ready for take off, a guy runs out waving his arms and pretending to be putting on a jacket. The cockpit received a call saying that the jacket had been located and it would be there in 15 minutes. Hmmm, interesting. So, we sat on the runway and waited as everyone on board teased me. They insisted that I owed them all a round of beer. They suggested that I pay up the following week when we were due to fly to Fairbanks, Alaska to cold soak the plane. (We planned to squeeze in a snowmobile outing as well). Before long, we were notified that the jacket had arrived. The crew disarmed the door, a golf cart approached with four guys and my jacket. A crew member laid on the floor of the plane and reached his hand downward trough the hatch. The guys in the cart held up the jacket, and it was done. The jacket was back, the door was closed and the future round of beer was set.

As we took off from Panama City, we flew along the South side of the canal toward the Pacific. The pilots, both German pilots requested that we fly the length of the canal at the lowest altitude possible, 2400’. I have to say, that was a treat that few people would ever experience, much less in a VVIP 787.

Panama was my 47th country to ride in on a motorcycle.