Penelope's ugly, dirty and nasty cousin. I only feel that way because of what has transpired over the last 24 hours. The bike could have stalled on the side of the Mexican highway somewhere with machetes flying around my head, so I am thankful for that. It was just before midnight, and the dogs were barking so much I had to make a move away from behind the concrete wall separating me from the street, and my broken down bike. There was some activity down the street, with what looked like a taxi company. I felt strangely vulnerable going up to this group of 3 or 4 guys washing their cars, but I did. I was so tired and discouraged my working level Spanish was less so. Finally, an understanding that I needed a place to charge the battery on my bike. Then, the owner, a young 28 year old offers for me to sleep there too, and after watching the TV that was placed beside the car wash, and laying down on the dirt, they offered me their hammock. Waking up this morning, a picture of my 'bedroom'. Time to collect my thoughts, I flag a taxi, and he takes me to Yamaha fruitlessly, but they offer a mechanic who's just down the street, non-affiliated. He is optimistic my problem is that battery but after a quick charge-up still no spark on the plugs. We put the bike into the back of a truck with me straddling Bonnie to keep her from falling off or over. As of now, still no solution, after thinking the $1700 part 2 weeks away was the answer. This experience has tested my patience, and despite wanting to be in Costa Rica in 2 weeks, know somehow that everything will work out just fine. Of course that wasn't my feeling this morning.