MOTORCYCLE TRAVEL IN Panama

Riding into Yaviza by motorcycle means literally completing the last rideable kilometer of the northern Pan-American Highway: thousands of kilometers of pavement that start in Alaska and end abruptly against the Darién jungle.

The town sits at the confluence of the Chucunaque and Tuira rivers, and from there begins the Darién Gap, roughly 100 km of roadless jungle separating Panama from Colombia — the one point where the Pan-American project could never be closed, despite a construction attempt in the 1970s that was abandoned in 1974 over cost and its impact on Emberá-Wounaan territory.

For any rider doing the Americas end to end, planting the front wheel at the Yaviza sign is as symbolic a closing ritual as reaching Ushuaia — the exact point where the map runs out of road.

Riding from El Llano to Cartí by motorcycle means crossing the Serranía de San Blas in just 35 km, from ocean to administrative ocean: you leave Panamanian national territory and enter the Guna Yala Comarca, an indigenous self-government recognized since the Tule Revolution of 1925, long before any other comarca existed in the country.

For more than a decade, travelers on Horizons Unlimited and ADVrider have reported it as one of the steepest paved roads in Central America, with sections running grades of 15-20% dropping straight toward the jungle and the Caribbean Sea.

For years, this route was the mandatory detour for every rider going from Alaska to Ushuaia: since there is no road through the Darién, many rolled the bike off the Pan-American Highway here and loaded it onto a sailboat bound for Cartagena, Colombia — the famous sea bridge that skips the Darién Gap.

Riding up into the Highlands by motorcycle, the loop linking Boquete with Volcán and Cerro Punta around Volcán Barú, means leaving Pacific sea-level heat behind and reaching, in under an hour, the 1,200-meter altitude of Panama's best coffee-growing region.

On the Boquete side, the road winds through geisha coffee plantations — the Panamanian variety that broke world auction price records — while on the Cerro Punta side the landscape shifts to cloud forest, with the Los Quetzales hiking trail connecting both towns around the volcano in about 6 hours on foot.

It's the most-ridden curvy circuit for both Panamanian weekend riders and international travelers coming down from Costa Rica: cool temperatures year-round, well-paved technical curves, and an expat community that turned Boquete into one of the country's most visited towns.

Riding to the summit of Volcán Barú by motorcycle means reaching the only spot in Panama, and one of the few on the planet, where on a clear day you can see the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea at the same time.

At 3,475 meters, it's the country's highest mountain, a dormant volcano declared a National Park in 1976. The access track climbs about 14 km from the 1,700-meter ranger station up to the crater, over loose volcanic rock that demands constant traction.

Most dual-sport riders climb it at night by 4x4 or trail bike to arrive before sunrise: it's tropical-hot at the base, but temperatures at the summit can approach freezing — a contrast few motorcycle rides in Central America offer in so few hours.

Crossing the Fortuna Highway by motorcycle means riding over the Central Cordillera on one of the few paved roads in Panama that links the Pacific to the Caribbean in a single stretch, climbing up to Cerro Chorcha, at 2,213 meters, inside the Fortuna Forest Reserve.

According to the reserve's own records, it's one of the rainiest areas in the country: over 4,000 millimeters of water fall there every year, feeding the Fortuna hydroelectric dam, one of Panama's most important power plants since the 1980s.

The thick fog wrapping the cloud forest —home to resplendent quetzals— means every tight curve is ridden almost blind, with visibility down to a few meters. It's the mountain crossing most recommended in motorcycle-travel forums for heading down from Chiriquí to Bocas del Toro without taking the long detour through Costa Rica.

Riding up to Cerro Azul and Cerro Jefe by motorcycle is the closest mountain escape for anyone living in Panama City: less than an hour from downtown, the road climbs into the cloud forest of Cerro Jefe, the highest point in the area at 1,007 meters.

It's the curvy circuit most ridden by the capital's motorcyclists and cyclists on weekends, chasing a climate several degrees cooler than the city's humid heat, almost like another country, just 40 km in a straight line from Casco Antiguo.

From the viewpoints near the summit, on clear days, you can see both the Gulf of Panama and part of Lake Bayano to the east — a contrast of jungle and city skyline that few short rides offer this close to a Latin American capital.

Riding up to Santa Fe de Veraguas by motorcycle means entering Panama's green heart, a town that only got connected by road in 1971 and had lived isolated for centuries in the country's central mountains before that.

The Santa Fe National Park surrounding the town protects over 300 orchid species and just as many bird species, with waterfalls like El Salto and Alto de Piedra just minutes away by bike from the town center.

Santa Fe is also the starting point for one of the dirt tracks most used by dual-sport riders in Panama: the road to Calovébora, on the Caribbean coast, a remote mountain stretch that still demands a trail bike and real gravel experience.

Riding down to Pedasí and Playa Venao by motorcycle means crossing the entire Azuero Peninsula, the cradle of Panamanian folklore and cattle-ranching tradition, to reach one of the most sought-after surf coasts in Central America.

The road passes through Las Tablas, home to the country's most famous Carnival, before opening onto a stretch of gentle curves along the Pacific, with short detours to nearly empty beaches and to the Isla Iguana Wildlife Refuge.

In a little over a decade, Playa Venao went from fishing village to host of international surf competitions, and today it's the favorite long-weekend destination for Panama City motorcyclists looking for fast curves and a beach in the same trip.

Riding to Portobelo by motorcycle means following the same route the Spanish Empire used for nearly two centuries to ship Peruvian silver to Europe, crossing the isthmus from the Pacific to this port founded in 1597.

Its fortifications, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1980, withstood attacks from privateers like Francis Drake —who died off this coast in 1596 and was buried at sea nearby— and from Henry Morgan, who sacked the port in 1668.

Today's road hugs the Caribbean between jungle and bays, passing near the Atlantic entrance to the Panama Canal, before ending in a town of colonial ruins and turquoise water that remains the most-ridden Caribbean escape for the capital's motorcyclists.

Riding down to Chiriquí Grande by motorcycle, the final stretch of the Fortuna Highway on the Caribbean side, means reaching the point where the bike gets parked and the trip continues by boat: the Bocas del Toro archipelago has no bridge or road connecting it to the mainland.

For decades the town has been the northern terminal of the Trans-Panama pipeline, which for years moved oil from one ocean to the other back when crossing through the Canal wasn't cost-effective — today it's mainly the boarding point for the islands.

It's the natural finish line for any crossing of the Fortuna Highway: after hours of fog and mountain curves, the landscape suddenly opens onto the Chiriquí Lagoon and the humid Caribbean heat, with the islands of Bocas already visible on the horizon.