A Scenic Motorcycle Adventure Through the Heartland
Read Time:3 Minute, 40 Second
It had started with that irresistible pull, that whisper carried by the morning breeze. A wake to longing I could not but heed, a call to explore the rugged beauty of my homeland, Puerto Rico. The thought of the mountains enshrouded in mist and browsed by heaven teemed with anticipation. I longed for the cool caress of their breezes, the earthy perfume of their valleys, and the tranquility promised. The day did demand adventure.
With determination, I picked up my telephone and dialed my friend Dennys, a maestro of mountain trails in Puerto Rico. Dennys had spent hours of his life crossing the peaks over and over, working his way on paths where only the bravest dared. Although much less experienced than him, he did not even take a second to say, “Let’s ride,” with a laugh of confidence, and thus the journey was set in motion.
We met in Rincón, a coastal town where waves seemed to dance with pleasure as if leading our way with applause. With brilliant motorcycles under the morning sun, we set off: the excitement humming in my chest. Dennys took the lead first, guiding us away from the edge of the ocean into the island’s heart of green laying out.
We went through Rincón and Añasco on our route; with each mile passed, it brought us closer to those towering mountains ahead on the horizon. Roads changed beneath them in an instant—from smooth asphalt to gravel, which was unpredictable in its moves. My setting of the bike changes immediately in accommodation to the demands of a ride which is not going to be so friendly. The mountain roads called for attention, but the rewards were immediate: endless vistas of green, valleys that stretched like painted canvases, and rivers that sparkled like so much liquid diamond in the sun.
By the time we reached Las Marías, Maricao, and Sabana Grande, it was another rhythm in the air; slow, serene. Bridges of rust and worn, leading us across from this world into a cloistered world, superfluous with the concept of time. And deeper I went, the deeper I felt this island’s pulse, like its very soul was alive in those secluded spots.
But it was at the point when the road became dirt and stone that any real adventure began. The narrow paths rose steeply upward, tucking deep into the embraces of the mountains in mist. Dennys drove the switchbacks as if he’d done it a hundred times before; I followed with my heart pounding from both exertion and exhilaration. Each sharp turn and uneven patch of trail pushed me further out of my comfort zone. But with every obstacle, I felt stronger, much more in concert with the rhythm of the ride and the spirit of the mountains.
The promise of a well-deserved feast awaited us when we finally went down into Lares. We dined in a cramped, noisy restaurant on “lechón a la vara”—tender roasted pork—and garlicky yautía, the perfect comfort food complement to what had been and would continue to be an exhausting day. Dinner was more than nutrition; it was celebration. Dennys and I laughed and relived the ups and downs of the day each memory mitigated by appreciation of beauty given.
Refueled and reenergized, we resumed the ride—through San Sebastián and Moca; the now submerging sun bathed the land in gold. The end of the ride was close, but the journey had marked its presence. The road and its highs and lows changed something inside. It was not about the destination; it was finding pieces of myself, silently waiting to be found.
The deep feeling of satisfaction emanating from my being was as sure as the sun just tipped behind the clouds and the mountains shrouded themselves. I had followed the call, embarked on the adventure, and returned home with fresh affinity for the earth that is home to me. The mountains of Puerto Rico gave me something more than a ride; they imparted clarity, growth, and another taste of awe.
As I rode my motorcycle back toward the Aguada hometown, the humming of the motor was in cadence with the whispering breeze; now I know that this is only the beginning. There are more mountains to climb, more roads to find, and more adventures waiting to shape up the chapters of my story.
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