On the Mexican side of the border I am able to replenish my cash at an ATM machine, then I cross the street to the Guatemalan side and obtain a 3 month visa to enter the country...
... changing Dollars into Quetzales is as easy as spotting a friendly black market operator and making the transaction right in the street, a couple of yards away from the customs office!
The first thing I notice about Guatemala are the flowers, the colors are bright as only in the tropics and...
... I fill my eyes with the beauty of nature...
... admiring the stunning views of the volcanoes that line the horizon...
... but, sadly, also with the garbage scattered all over the place. Guatemala is much poorer than Mexico and was ravaged by 36 years of a civil war that left scars that haven't completely healed yet.
On this side of the border the road is narrow with virtually no shoulder and it is not unusual to come around a bend and...
... find yourself face to face with a truck occupying your entire lane and coming straight at you...
I receive many warnings from different people about cyclists being assaulted while on the road, but, as I leave the border area, I make no unpleasant encounters and feel comfortable continuing my journey...
... I am also immediately aware that there are a lot more dogs running around and, with rabies being a very serious public health issue here, you have to be a little more cautious when approaching a furry friend...
... still, I'm getting the vibe that I am going to like it here...
I spot a cozy motel and decide to call it a day...
... to get to my room I have to go through the "Tire repair station" and the mechanics are surprised that, being from Italy, I am running German tires...
... instead of Italian made ones.
Guatemala is very mountainous and tomorrow the road will take me through some pretty narrow canyons and up some fairly high mountains with a nice climb to 12,500 feet on the way to Quetzaltenango.
On this stretch I am riding with Ricardo Figueroa, doctor in veterinary medicine and triathlete, who picked me up in La Democracia to pedal with me to Huehuetenango where a press conference is set to announce the arrival of C4S in the country.
As Dr. Ricardo and I enter the city, the temperature is a scorching 100 degrees F and we bake along the way...
... following our police escort to the Casa Blanca Hotel that has generously offered to host me while in town...
... and where I meet Dra. Adriana Contreras, who leads the charge in this community to end the tragedy of homeless pets. She and I talk about the programs she implements locally before meeting with the press. Her dedication is exemplary and her accomplishments incredible.
Fatima and her puppy Nena are here to show their support!
In the morning, Dr. Ricardo and I are up early to beat the heat on the 95 km ride to Quetzaltenango: the first 50 clicks are uphill ascending towards the mountain pass then it will be a very fast descent into the valley. These strays come to visit and...
... hang out with us while we wait for the police since they insist on escorting us out of the city concerned for our safety.
Halfway to Xela, as the locals refer to the ancient city Quetzaltenango, I am joined by Sergio and Jesus of SoloBicis, local bike shop and home to one of the city's racing teams.
Sergio is on a state of the art Bianchi and sets a brutal pace up the mountain...
... the key here is to stay glued to him and avoid getting dropped...
... lose a few feet and, at this elevation, catching up will require a monster effort (maybe I should be doping!!!)
Last ramp before descending into Xela...
... finally we fly into the valley below...
... entering the city that sits at 7,500 ft above sea level. Xela is the second most important city of Guatemala and was rebuilt after being severely damaged in 1902 by the eruption of nearby Santa Maria volcano. The city was the center of the ancient Quichè kingdom of Xelaju and the region is still dominated by Quichè inhabitants and culture.
After a quick blast through the suburbs...
... we enter the "Centro" and...
... climb up to the old cathedral where the press is waiting. One last effort and...
... yes! We are done for the day!
After the press conference we are invited inside City Hall where representatives of the municipality listen while Dr. Ricardo presents the plan to promote spay and neutering in Guatemala.
One last shot with Dr. Ricardo Figueroa and wife Sandri and...
... one more with the rest of the McKee Team before...
... we can finally get out of our sweaty cycling gear and go visit this spectacular ancient city, admiring its old churches...
... discovering hidden corners of colonial style beauty...
... indoor restaurants and coffee shops...
... wide open pedestrian friendly boulevards...
... cobblestone side streets and...
... beautiful monuments.
It is a perfect day and I simply wander around...
... taking it all in and feeling wonderfully at ease.
After the break, Sergio takes me to SoloBicis...
... where his mechanics promptly go to work on my ride...
... giving it a full complimentary service from the bottom bracket up.
While my ride is getting serviced, Sergio, Jesus and I take a ride to the hills that surround the city so that I can admire the view from the top.
After a great evening out with my new friends I crash exhausted. Sergio wakes me up in the morning delivering my freshly tuned bike, then we are off to Dr. Ricardo's clinic to check on this little guy that his recovering from a nasty bacterial infection.
We grab a smoothie at a kiosk next to the sports center...
... and head to Sergio's home where the puppy immediately joins the pack.
Too soon it is time to say "Ciao!" and make preparations to leave...
... but not before accepting this award from the City of Quetzaltenango officially recognizing the advocacy work we are doing. I am touched by this gesture of friendship and will pedal as hard as I can to continue saying No More Homeless Pets!
In order to stay strong I stock up on some local fuel: a delicious concoction of maiz and soy milk that helps go the distance. I am off to the Animal Aware Sanctuary near Lake Atitlan and Sergio accompanies me for a stretch towards Guatemala City.
The ride is an amazing one, standing up on the pedals and hammering one revolution at a time towards the pass that sits at 13,000 feet of elevation. From the top we enjoy this majestic view of the volcano that Quetzaltenango's citizens have learned to admire and fear at the same time.
At the Animal Aware Sanctuary, founded by Xenii and husband Martin, who pioneered terms like spay and neutering in Guatemala over two decades ago and that continue today their monumental work in a nation where poverty, crime, lack of infrastructure and rampant government corruption make the life of an animal advocate dangerously difficult to say the least.
As I tour the facility, a sort of mini Best Friends, where I meet countless former strays...
... I realize how difficult it is to promote love and respect for companion animals in a nation where people barely survive, struggling to feed their kids let alone their pets who are often left to fend for themselves...
... neglected and forgotten by owners who simply do not have the education or the resources to properly care for their best friend...
... here a cross marks the grave of a dog lucky enough to have enjoyed life as a family member...
... instead of an outcast...
... longing for the attention of the people that he loves unconditionally despite the abuse, neglect and pain he often experiences. The advocacy work that Animal Aware does is of great importance, please visit their site and consider helping them.
Back on the road, I quickly reach Guatemala City negotiating traffic on my way to the Universidad San Carlos, where Dra. Andrea and I will speak to 1st year veterinary student about the importance of community outreach and social responsibility. As I enter the university campus, masked activists stop me asking for a donation that will support the student movement. I cheerfully oblige and answer many questions about the ride and the animal programs we support in developing nations. The atmosphere quickly turns from tense to friendly and I am shown to the veterinary department where I meet with both students and staff.
After spending the day in Ciudad de Guatemala, I am offered a ride to Antigua, Guatemala's first capital, that even though almost completely destroyed during the earthquake of 1,773, retains its original colonial charm, making strolling through the city a pleasant and welcome break from pedaling. There are now well over 5,200 kms behind me and about 2,000 more to go before I finally dip my front rim into the Pacific...
So, the following morning, I decide to play tourist and enjoy the sites, wandering aimlessly and, with no where to go and no time constraints, I do what I do best: hanging in the street like a true "Callejero", napping at the park, enjoying the shade when the temperature raises, sitting on the doorstep of an ancient home while chatting up complete strangers. The Hotel El Viajero offers me a free, clean room and, as I stretch on top of the bed, I feel happy and at peace with myself and the world.
As I get ready to leave Antigua to return to Guatemala City to spend the day with the volunteers of Mascotas Terapeutas, a program that brings trained dogs to the state hospital to interact with sick children, I sneak in one last stroll through the town, gaze at the volcanoes that line the horizon and feel well rested and ready to press on.
To really understand a nation and its culture you must take the time to hang with the locals, riding the bus through the city so that you can experience life in the streets as ordinary people do...
... walking through the Mercado Central lets me overdose on exotic flavors and colors, as well as strike casual conversations that allow a deeper understanding of what life is all about here.
Later, in the oncology ward of the children hospital, I witness the amazing work that these dogs do, bringing a few moments of happiness to the children that courageously fight for their lives...
... and when life seems to overwhelm you, nothing chases the demons away like the wet nose of a dog!
Mascotas Terapeutas: a program that I fully support and that should be duplicated everywhere!
Go to http://www.mascotasterapeutas.com/ for more information.
Downtown Guatemala City, or Guate as the locals refer to their home town, is full of life with beautiful colonial buildings as a backdrop. You gotta love it when a goat walks up to some guy, casually takes a sip of his latte and nobody bats an eye!
After hanging with the goat (always an interesting experience) and saying goodbye to the Mascotas Terapeutas crew, I hook up with the cyclists of Masa Critica who will escort me to a McKee/Animal Aware spay and neutering clinic here in town.
The OR is set up in the kitchen of a McKee supporter, animals are sedated and operated on by Dra. Andrea using McKee's Small Incision Method: the procedure lasts about 12 minutes then the patient is transferred to the recovery station where vets students apply a little antibiotic spray to the sutured wound, administer vaccinations and monitor the animal's vitals. Soon our furry wanderers start to awake and in the next hour they will be off to their foster homes. The clinic over, I accept an invitation to crash at my new friend Magda's, who, together with husband Mario, just minutes after meeting, opened her home to me and fed me dinner then breakfast before pointing me towards the border with El Salvador.
As I hammer towards the border, the temperature quickly raises to a brutal 100 degrees and I feel the moisture evaporating from my body faster than I can replenish it. So, in a futile effort to keep cool, I chug fluids like they are going out of style and stop at fruit kiosks to swallow juicy slices of deliciously ripe pineapple. This part of Guatemala is very similar (and equally hot) to California's central valley, the terrain mostly flat with only one or two mild climbs before, finally, reaching the border and some very welcome shade.
Exiting Guatemala is a snap and entering El Salvador equally easy. Adiòs Guate, home to some of the very best mountain riding I have ever experienced. Minutes after entering El Salvador I have my very first real close call of the ride, when a bus coming the other way invades my lane and almost flattens me pancake style. As I try to avoid the collision, squeezing through the narrow opening sandwiched by the body of the bus and the edge of my lane, trying not to plunge head first in the very deep ditch running along the road, I slam my left hand into the metal siding of the bus, wobble for a few meters then miraculously save it.
The driver is so besides himself that he stops to check on me, insisting on finding some ice for my hand that is quickly resembling a catcher's mitt.
After some ice therapy I pack the inside of my glove with Arnica ointment, swallow a couple of aspirins and get back on the bike. These horses stood next to me all the time as to make sure I was fit to continue.
Lunch in Santa Ana gives me the chance to admire the splendid colonial buildings that line the downtown area as well as La Cattedrale.
While I wait for the members of a local cycling group that expressed the desire to accompany me for a stretch towards the capital city of San Salvador, I inspect my hand and decide I must have fractured my pinky. I buy a popsicle from a street vendor and use the flat wooden stick that came with it to splinter my finger. I carefully don my glove using a piece of sponge that, hopefully, will help cushion the jars caused by the badly paved road, wrap the whole thing in electrical tape and ride with my hand resting on the brake assembly. Done!
In close proximity to the city I say my goodbyes then proceed to scout the streets looking for an hotel that doesn't advertise rates by the hour.
Downtown San Salvador. I browse the kiosks that line the road leading to the cathedral and wonder around a bit trying to get a feel for the place. On a whim, I step inside a pharmacy and ask advice about my finger: the pharmacist on duty also suspects that I suffered a small stress fracture and confirms all is needed for it to heal is a little patience. Chatting with the locals is a real eye opener: the lack of basic infrastructure and services we tend to take for granted in the United States and Europe makes it very hard for the small animal advocacy groups to survive. Still, if there is a will there always is a way and the dog lover of San Salvador is as compassionate and dedicated as the one found in San Francisco.
San Salvador comes across as a city where many people struggle to survive... Gone is the colonial architectural splendor of Morelia or Antigua, here the economy is depressed and every day living is a fight for survival with basic needs such as food and clothing becoming very pressing matters. The entire city appears to me as one huge dollar store, where crumpled US singles are constantly being exchanged for bags of fruits and the homemade Empanadas sold at virtually every corner.
Watching countless strays dart in and out of traffic as they go about their business of daily survival, makes me feel as helpless as I did in the outskirts of Mexico City. As I gaze into the deep, soulful eyes of these sweet mutts that beg me not to leave them, I almost lose hope and ask myself how hard can it really be for us to come together as a people and strive to build a better future for both humans and animals, one when we share and renew the resources that are nobody's and everybody's at the same time.
To beat the heat I now leave in the pre-dawn hours, when the bad guys have already packed it in for the night and the hard working, honest people haven't left their homes yet. Honduras is real close and, with no spay and neutering clinics and no media events scheduled for a few days, I can focus on pedaling and covering some real ground.
El Salvador is as remote and rural as it gets, the last frontier of Central America as far as tourism is concerned...
The views are spectacular with wide open valleys lined by volcanoes...
... and rivers that stretch as far as the eye can see...
... the valleys are green with small villages clinging to the hills...
... these are farms where the civil war was fought and, to this day, there are entire villages where men are nowhere to be found as a results of the mass killings and recruiting of child soldiers by the army (sadly) bankrolled by US tax dollars in the seventies...
The new El Salvador is trying very hard to heal, boost its sagging economy and promote a new wave of Eco tourism following the successful model implemented by Costa Rica...
This is classic rural construction: mud bricks baked under the sun and neatly stacked to form walls that stay cool in the heat. The flip side? They will wash out under one of the frequent torrential downpours experienced during rainy season, leaving no other choice to its inhabitants than to move and rebuild elsewhere.
The heat is becoming an issue and, by 11am, the temperature is well above 110 degrees F, forcing me to work very hard to keep revolutions and cruising speed high. The sun light is so bright that, at the end of the day, my eyes are shot as if I had spent hours walking on a glacier...
There is very little traffic and I will myself towards the border eager to take a break from the scorching sun, no longer a welcome change from the freezing cold I suffered during the first days of this ride, but, instead, now a blistering curse that never lets up mile after mile.
I cross an old stone bridge probably built by the Spanish who learned this technique from the Romans who learned it from the Greeks...
Honduras is beyond this river and I cross in a slightly unorthodox manner, shouldering the bike and inserting myself intoTerritorio Hondureño without bothering to officially exit El Salvador...
I rejoin the Interamericana between immigration and customs: nobody pays any attention to me, so I keep on going...
I only have a very short slice of Honduras to cross in order to reach the border with Nicaragua and the country goes by in a blur...
... this is where I experience my first (and only) flat tire of the ride after exactly 6,000 kms in about 60 days of pedaling...
I stop in a gas station to change the tube in the shade and find that my rear skewer is stripped. One of the mechanics comes to my rescue, loaning me a pair of pliers and some grease. We manage the repair and I am off...
Having had enough of the Interamericana, I decide to detour a little...
... and cross into Nicaragua near Somatillo where there should be less traffic and congestion...
... while I was working on the flat, I took the opportunity to thoroughly service the drivetrain so now the bike rides smoothly and silently, like an otter sliding through water...
To exit Honduras I hire Ramòn to help me process my paperwork, since I'd rather not explain how I got into the country in the first place...
... while Ramòn handles immigration matters I screw around on his trike and exchange my left over Lempiras into Cordobas. In no time he brings me back my stamped passport and I (legally) enter Nicaragua...
... land of many volcanoes...
... skilled horsemen...
... and vast stretches of open space, a sort of Central American Far West where...
... you can cruise for hours in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the view to keep you from losing it in the blazing heat.
On the way to Managua the scorching temperature of the asphalt is affecting my tires which are now dangerously hot and swollen. Fearing a blow out, I stop to let some air out. While I am at it, Angela comes over to chat and gives me some great intel on where not to go in order to avoid being assaulted and robbed of my bike that is worth a lot more than what most people make in one year of backbreaking labor. We hug goodbye and I take off towards Momotombo Volcano.
Suddenly, I see a cloud of sand fast approaching. The wind is so strong and hot that it feels like I am riding inside a giant convection oven.
In a matter of seconds I am totally engulfed by the sandstorm and have no idea if I drifted into the opposite lane or what...
... after what seems like an eternity, I am through the dust and find out what caused the mini storm. Later I will find this fine silt everywhere inside my gear.
Juan Carlos joins me for a stretch. He and a friend are on two very beat up mountain bikes and, yet, they hammer away pushing me to race them. These guys love cycling so much they are out daily in the heat commuting first to school then to work, racing on the weekends with no real gear and no fancy bikes. They do it for the love of the sport and teach me a lesson in sportmanship.
I follow Angela's excellent directions and approach the volcano. The temperature is now best described as unbearable and the mountain appears to be floating on the horizon, shrouded by a dense curtain of heat. The road is littered with shredded tires, as several of the big rigs experienced the blowouts I knew where coming. I feel woozy from dehydration and struggle to stay upright. Managua is only a few clicks away now, so I slow down trying to stay focused. Crashing so close to the finish line would be a real bummer...
I ride through a village, just a few buildings on the side of the road. There is a small store, though, and I load up on liquids downing 4 liters of water spiked with Gatorade and lemon juice...
The pit stop recharges my batteries enough to continue and, when I reach the Lago de Managua, I know I am home free...
In Managua I am met by Dr. Enrique Rimbaud, founder of the Fundaciòn Amarte (Aire, Mar, Tierra), which is active on all 3 fronts of animal welfare (air, sea, land) as well as the legislative one, implementing the first law to regulate animal welfare in Nicaragua.
In Dr. Enrique's home I meet several of the young veterinarians that represent the future of the animal care industry of this nation, this being a pivotal moment for Nicaragua's animal welfare movement: as a new generation of vets, trained by Dr. Enrique, hits the streets, a brand new way of approaching animals starts to take hold, promoting the cultural change needed to go forward...
Later, the Hotel Barcelò, Managua's most luxurious and exclusive resort, offers its support by comping my room and meals and, after 64 days on the streets, I let the decadent luxury of the Barcelò sooth my aching body as I drift off in never-never land lulled by the hum of the air conditioning that feels like heaven on my parched skin.
In the morning, Marcelo picks me up on his mountain bike to lead me to the town of Masaya where we will attend the first spay and neutering clinic organized by Amarte and Amor Animal.
Marcelo is an avid cyclist and we take off at a good clip through the empty streets of Managua riding by the Volcano National Park and reaching one of the many beautiful lagoons of Nicaragua, often ancient volcanic craters now filled with water.
Masaya is only 30 clicks away and soon we enter the Colegio Rafael Herrera that has generously made its campus available for this community event.
"I don't eat turtle eggs " reads the shirt sported by the principal. In countries that rely on rural economies, where farmed animals are worked almost to death and where wildlife is often seen only as a food source, education is key.
A classroom is quickly scrubbed and set up as the OR...
... the patients start to arrive...
... mostly dogs and cats pulled off the streets in very dire straits...
... like Bobi, who underwent a total facial reconstruction courtesy of Dr. Enrique and his team of dedicated vets...
... that gave him his health back...
... so that he may have a normal, happy life in a loving home.
The volunteers check everybody in, assigning progressive numbers and opening a medical file for each animal...
... then the first step is a quick physical to ensure the patient is fit enough to undergo surgery...
... the actual procedure using the McKee Small Incision Method lasts about 10 minutes, then the little furry wanderer is transferred to the recovery room to sleep the rest of his anesthesia off under the supervision of several volunteers.
I have attended many of these events, but I am always surprised by how peaceful the vibe is: the dogs hardly bark, there is never a scrap and the whole thing turns into...
... a fun community event with kids showing up to see what's happening...
... and learning about caring for their best friend in a relaxed and welcoming environment where myths and "Street science" are quickly dispelled and real knowledge is shared with future generations of animal advocates...
After the last "Client" is attended to...
... I say Ciao to Marcelo, Dr. Enrique and the rest of the crew and...
... get ready to pedal to Granada, a paltry 20 kms away. The Costarican border is so close now, I can almost hear the surfboards smacking the waves of the Pacific...
Granada is the oldest colonial city in Nicaragua and the entire Western hemisphere. La Cattedrale is so magnificent that when I reach the city I stop and stare for a long while. Today is the beginning of Semana Santa and Central America shuts down until Easter Sunday with processions and worshipping throughout the region. I am feeling lazy, so I decide to take the rest of the day off and simply hang.
The Centro of Granada is famous for its colonial buildings...
... and covered walkways that allow strolling through town without getting baked by the sun...
... as I take in the wide open space of the Lago de Nicaragua I almost wish the trip wasn't so close to being over. Nothing like traveling by bicycle to really experience a foreign culture and for the past two months I have absorbed so many different nuances of the colours that paint our existence, that I feel the effort was well worth it.
Leaving Granada I snap a few more pictures of this city that can claim the same architectural beauty of Morelia, Mexico, or Quetzaltenango and Antigua, Guatemala.
What has made this ride unforgettable is the human experience: meeting amazing human beings in seven different nations, traveling with them for a stretch along the path of life, working side by side with people that were perfect strangers a minute before, but that stopped to lend a hand and became fast friends. This is what C4S accomplished: it brought the best out people, prompting us to refocus our energies towards the common good as opposed to our individual wants. As a result of this amazing exchange I feel I have become a better person.
Costa Rica is now only 100 kilometers away, but the road is swept by a strong wind coming from the south that forces me to work extra hard to keep momentum going...
... I am crossing a very narrow sliver of land sandwiched by the lake on one side and the ocean on the other. The wind suddenly shifts, hitting me sideways and blowing me off the road. I am forced to pedal leaning into this wall of air and, when a semi goes by, the added turbulence makes me weave like a drunk rider...
Here is where I catch up with Dave from England who is on his way to South America. He takes one look at my simple set up and says what every other traveling cyclist has said before him:
"I wish I had taken half of the gear!"
Finally, the border crossing! This will be the final time I pull my passport out on this voyage and, as I roll through the check point, I can't stop smiling...
... the Nicaraguan side of the border is so chaotic that finding the right window to exit the country is an exercise in patience. I decide to take my merry time and have fun with it...
... while I wait for my turn, I change my left over Cordobas into Costa Rican Colones and chat with Manuel who does business in a pleasant and relaxed manner...
After the sweaty bedlam of the Nicaraguan side, Costa Rica appears like an oasis of tranquility: officials wave me through and, wham!, just like that it is over.
In Liberia, in the Guanacaste region of Costa Rica, I slice off the final piece of the map: I still have about 220 clicks to cover before I can dismount for good in the capital city of San Josè, but it's all easy spinning from here!
The final kilometers of the ride are pleasantly relaxed. The end is in sight and I am slightly ahead of schedule so I can slow down, detour if I feel like it, slack off a little.
As I climb towards the Central Valley and the capital city of San Josè, I pedal through many small towns...
... the Central Valley is where the hot and humid air coming from the Caribbean meets with the cooler winds from the Pacific...
... the result is the "Cloud forest" a unique and amazingly complex ecosystem...
... home to thousands of different animal and plant species.
In the village of Monteverde hanging bridges allow you to take a "Canopy tour": up here the air feels so clean and fresh that I gulp it down as if it were the sweetest spring water...
After passing the mountains surrounding the Arenal Volcano...
... the road drops down towards the city of Alajuela, where the headquarters of the McKee Project are located...
... McKee has been active in Costa Rica for over a decade promoting spay and neutering as a method of population control. Thanks to their efforts, the number of strays roaming the streets is far lower than in the rest of Central America.
The flyer announcing the official arrival of the 2010 C4S ride at the Parque La Sabana in San Josè, Costa Rica. Total distance: 7,385 kilometers.
Morning of the main event: yesterday evening it poured, but today the sun is shining as I get ready to tackle the final 35 kms accompanied by a handful of cyclists.
At the park volunteers have been busy since dawn setting up banners and all sorts of educational material promoting responsible pet ownership and animal welfare...
... here is one showing the entire route of the ride from Best Friends all the way to Costa Rica.
With your support we managed to open a "Corridor of compassion" connecting Best Friends in the United States with the McKee Project in Costa Rica, uniting many different communities and advocacy groups along the way. From Aliac and Gepda in Mexico to Animal Aware in Guatemala, Amarte and Amor Animal in Nicaragua and the Spanky Project in Cuba, we are committed to working together to end the suffering of companion animals in developing nations. After all, the hunger of the strays of San Josè isn't any different from the one experienced by the strays roaming the streets of Managua, Mexico City or Phoenix. This is a global tragedy we face, one that requires a global solution, involving communities, promoting cultural change, inspiring people to become more compassionate towards unwanted pets, since without animal welfare there is no community welfare.
As I am getting ready to pack it in for the day, I am surprised by an old friend who traveled all the way to the capital from a village in the north to welcome me back. I had met Alonso Castro in the village of Sarchì during the spay and neutering clinic funded by the first C4S charity ride, when he brought in a cute little mutt that had wondered into the local school in dire need of help. The kids begged the teachers to keep her, the teachers involved the parents and Alonso stepped up to the plate and offered Rosita a home. Now, exactly one year later, I once again get to hold Rosita in my arms, the former stray that embodies the spirit of each and every one of these brave furry wanderers who fight for their lives all over our troubled planet. Now the challenge is to keep the Corridor open, sharing know-how and funds with communities and advocacy groups, hoping to extend it everywhere there are animals in need so that no one is left behind. With your help we can succeed. Help us so that we may continue our advocacy efforts, bringing our message of hope where it is needed the most: impoverished communities in developing nations, where we strive to promote a positive circle of change that will ultimately become the community's new circle of life. The road to animal advocacy is still very long and arduous in this neck of the woods: at Cycle 4 Strays we plan to tackle it one revolution at a time, spinning forward towards a better future for all.
On behalf of all the furry wanderers of Mexico and Central America I sincerely thank you for your support. Stay tuned for more long distance cycling projects to say No More Homeless Pets!
