The morning we left Mexico, we were all pretty intimidated by the looks of the mountains. We'd biked over long hills before, but the steep and rigid peaks of Guatemala looked like a whole different monster. Ready to tackle the day, we sucked it up and started to ride. Luckily, we weren't too focused on the road in front of us because we barely noticed the building to turn in our Mexican travelers visa and get the departing stamp in our passport. No signs on the road. It felt weird to be riding past Mexico but not officially in Guatemala either. Just one calm man hanging out on a lazy Sunday morning watching the third Harry Potter.
