While in Quito recently I met another cyclist coming down from Canada and after a few minutes I had news of Seth and Parker – and most importantly found out they were close. Really close. A few emails and days later, I watched them ride into The Secret Garden Cotopaxi on a sunny morning, grinning from ear to ear. It’s great to see how fit and healthy they both look, their bodies now very used to the punishment of riding 100+ kilometers every day for a year. All of us talk simultaneously and try to ask three questions at exactly the same time.
There is lots of laughter.

Seth, Dan & Parker

We spend hours over the next couple of days telling stories about the adventures that have transpired since our last meeting, loving every minute. It’s amazing to spend time with guys I can relate to so well – they understand my journey so completely I feel like they’ve been with me the entire time through the good, the bad and everything in between. More than a few times in the middle of a story we finish each others sentences, more than well-versed in life on the road in Latin America.

The guys & the gear

On more than a few occasions thinking to myself “If Seth and Parker can do this on bicycles, surely I can do it in a Jeep…” has helped me push through difficult times, and it’s cool to get a boost from seeing them for real. To know they’ve now ridden 18,000km and are still loving every minute and going strong is a huge boost to my energy and I’m more excited than ever to get back on road. It’s awesome to know they are now forging the trail in front of me, and we know we’ll see each other again before the journey is done.

Riding off into the sunrise

Good luck guys, seeya down there

-Dan

Sunrise with some fog in the valley

The photos here show how much the enormous, ever-present Cotopaxi can change over the course of a day and all but one of the photos was taken from The Secret Garden. Even after two months I do a huge double-take every time I see the mountain and can’t help but stop and stare.

Sunrise

Not long after I arrived, the owner offered me the position of Manager, which has been a great challenge and learning experience. I’ve never worked in a restaurant or hotel before and it’s great to keep busy every day making sure things run smoothly.
I’ve recently spent some time in and out of Quito getting my visa and paperwork for the Jeep extended, so I can stay in Ecuador for a few more months if I want to. I’m not sure exactly how long I’ll stay yet, though two more months sounds nice.

Midday sunshine

Hanging out in the hostel and meeting all kinds of people has boosted my energy so much I now dream every single night about the adventures ahead of me. I’ve met people here from so many different walks of life, some who’ve traveled all over the world, and some who are just starting out on their first adventure. If you ever want to meet some amazingly adventurous people and get seriously and permanently infected with wonderlust, I highly recommend spending some time in a hostel somewhere.
My dreams are getting bigger. Lots bigger

Taken from close up

It took playing the hostel’s “share guitar” non-stop to realize just how much I missed my guitar that was stolen so many months ago in Mexico. To remedy that I just bought a brand new guitar for all of $60 and I’m already playing better than any time in my life. Photography, too, is a huge talking point here and I’m constantly asking questions and learning more about my future setup. All in good time.

Sunset is unreal

All in all, some extremely worthwhile time to get my head centered and back in the game.

Taken in the dead of night, with a full moon

The llamas enjoying the view

-Dan

Fine Print: Some of the photos here were taken by Alex Kane.

I’ll leave you with a few photos of recent times.

The mounatin behind The Secret Garden I hike up twice a week (4200m)

Carrying Mash through a hailstorm

The waterfall I jump off almost daily

-Dan

If there is something in particular you want me to write about, please leave a comment here and I’ll see what I can come up with. It could be about me, my trip, your trip, or really anything you think I might have something interesting to say about.

I know lots of you have been asking about money & my budget, and I promise to write about it after the adventure is finished – I don’t feel comfortable writing about while I’m still on the road. That, and it’s going to take a heck of a long time to write in any intelligible way.

-Dan

When I first dreamed of this adventure and decided to write a blog I really wanted to capture my feelings and emotions along the way. I wanted to make sure I wrote about the good and bad times to paint an accurate picture of solo life on the road and my state of mind along the way. I don’t think I’ve done a good job on that so far, because I’ve been so busy visiting places and taking photos to share it’s just been easier to write about happy times.
Here goes.

To be honest, I feel the need to stay put for reasons more important than winter. The last couple of months have been the hardest of the journey for me, mostly due to loneliness and a bit of monotony has crept in. Constantly going new places and seeing amazingly beautiful things is great, though not being able to share it with anyone is getting kind of hollow and meaningless. On top of that, things are starting to feel the same day-to-day and I think I’m stuck in a bit of a rut.
I haven’t seriously thought about giving up, mostly because I have nothing else to do and nowhere to go, but it does cross my mind from time to time. I’m definitely not enjoying myself as much as I was for the first six or eight months, so I want to change my setting for a while to break out of the ‘funk’ I’ve found myself in.

By staying in one place I hope I can get my fill of things I miss from the ‘normal’ world, to recharge my batteries and get me back on the road full of excitement for the final stretch through about four more countries to Tierra Del Fuego.

In no particular order I’m looking forward to:

• Lots of fitness related stuff.

• Eating really well.

• Learning more Spanish, which might be tough with so many English speakers around.

• Meeting a ton of travelers and potentially a new friend to jump in the Jeep for a while.

• Waking up every day and knowing that I’m already where I will goto sleep at night.

It sounds like I’ll be doing anything and everything; painting buildings, setting the table for meals, manning the phone, taking guests hiking, working on ‘projects’ around the place and anything else I feel like doing.

By the time you read this I will have already started, and have no idea how long I will stay. A month sounds great right now, and I’ll see how I feel after that. There is no electricity or internet out there so regular updates here are going to be tough.

If I don’t update the site as often as normal, please don’t worry – I’m perfectly safe living the simple life.

-Dan

• Because of the bulge in the Earth at the Equator, the summit of Chimborazo is actually the furthest point from the center of the Earth.

• There is no mountain higher than it anywhere north in the Americas.

The mighty Volcán Chimborazo

The highest paved road in the country passes right next to the mountain, which I obviously can’t pass up. I’m greeted by a sunny blue sky day, which makes for some stunning volcano viewing.

I’ll let the photos do the talking, safe to say I get some breathtaking views as I drive almost the entire way around the mountain, well above tree line the entire time.

Jeep loving the view

The road way up high

Maybe these guys are wild llamas?

Loving the blue sky view of Volcán Chimborazo

This side was almost entirely glacier

-Dan

The stunning views in Parque Nacional Cajas

In the morning we’re off to Parque Nacional Cajas, an amazing spot on the side of the highway high in the mountains between Cuenca and Guayaquil. We hike for a couple of hours into the amazing wilderness, well above tree line, passing only a few locals moving supplies around on horseback. When the rain sets in we move down to the refuge to cook lunch and chat to the park ranger guys before hiking around Laguna Toreadora, which again is peaceful in a way I can’t adequately explain.

Laguna Toreadora in Parque Nacional Cajas

More views in Parque Nacional Cajas

I wave goodbye to Jena and settle into the refuge for the night as the temperature drops lower and lower. I’m wearing all my thermals and am barely warm enough to sleep – It must be quite a way below freezing. I drive up and over another mountain pass towards Guayaquil and find myself in a tiny little village in the middle of dense jungle. Now that I’m down from the mountains the temperate has gone up about 20 degrees and the humidity is through the roof. The vegetation is extremely green and dense and banana plantations stretch into the distance as far as I can see.
Ecuador continues to amaze me with it’s diversity.

There is an amazing amount of nothingness

I find the nearby hot spring, another overly concrete affair perched on the side of a beautiful little river in a lush green valley and the owner lets me camp under a roof for only the price of admission ($2). While soaking I meet some locals, Engel and his wife and young daughter. He’s a really cool guy and before the night is done he invites me to hang out with him in his little town tomorrow. Cool.

Engel's farm in the jungle

In the morning we meet up and quickly head out to his farm in the Jeep, because the roads require 4×4 and his little VW will not make it all the way. On the road Engel tells me about his time in the US about 15 years ago; he caught a ship to Guatemala, hitchhiked to Mexico City and paid $12,000 USD for fake papers to get him across the border. Once in Los Angeles, he moved all over the country and finally settled around New York City. For the next seven years he lived and worked illegally in pretty much every borough around the city, to save money to bring back to his family in Ecuador. After the seven years he flew back to Ecuador (“nobody checks your papers when you are leaving”) with enough money to buy a really nice house, farm, car and still have enough left over so he doesn’t have to work too hard now. Hearing him talk about his time there is really amazing and when I ask if he wants to go back or live full time in the US he says “No, people in the US work to hard and are only interested in money and things, not family.”
His words, not mine.

Engel, proud of his machete

Cocca cut open and growing

The farm is possibly the most green, dense jungle I have ever seen and he proudly shows huge amounts cocca growing in the lower lands and young trees up higher that will be exported for timber. In five years one tree will sell for $30, which is a lot of money here. For the rest of the day we hang out in his town, meeting friends and family who are all extremely friendly and welcoming and want to hear all about my travels and life in other countries. The next day we drive into the enormous city of Guayaquil with another friend to buy parts for the bus Engel works on as a ticket collector. The city has a reputation of being very, very dangerous and they tell me time and time again I would not be safe on my own. In fact, I get the distinct feeling neither of them would feel comfortable in the city alone. It’s interesting to watch them roll up the car windows and lock the doors as soon as we get near the city – clearly they are aware of what happens here. It’s a huge city, complete with pollution, traffic and massive billboards plastered with western brands and slogans.
We drive all over town twice, and eventually end up with what we need late in the day.

The Hot Spring complex where I camped

Hanging out with Engel is a really great time and only serves to increase my liking for Ecuador.

-Dan

Parque National Llanganates

I pay $5 for entry and am told I can go anywhere I like, for as long as I like, hiking and camping my little heart out. Sweet. Upon arrival at Laguna Pisayambo I find it fenced and guarded, apparently because it’s an important hydro-electric generating station. My Spanish is clearly getting better as I not only convince the guard to let me in without a permit, I soon find myself hanging out in the guard shack chatting away. The two guards are posted here for five days at a time and obviously enjoy the distraction I provide. Over the next two days we go hiking and fishing, cook together, watch movies and talk for hours about all kinds of varied topics.

My campsite at Laguna Pisayambo

My arrival in Baños is on a beautiful sunny Sunday, the first time I can remember seeing sun worthy of shorts and flip-flops in more than two weeks. The town itself is absolutely packed with Ecuadorian tourists and I have a blast walking around checking out all the stalls and people watching for a few hours. After getting the scoop from the tourist information center I head up into the mountains directly behind town to find Casa Del Arból, a beautiful grassy area with a stunning view where I setup camp for a few days. Tons of Ecuadorians visit throughout the afternoon and I have a great time chatting to some university students, they speak English and I Spanish.

My campsite at Casa Del Arból

I head off the next morning for the the scenic drive down to Puyo, on the edge of the Amazon jungle. The road winds along a huge gorge carved by the Rio Pastaza in spectacular fashion – there is an enormous waterfall every few hundred meters dropping to the river far below. In about five places huge tunnels, up to 900 meters long, have been carved into the rock for the highway to pass through. Trying to get the best views of the river and waterfalls I take the much narrower track perched literally on the edge of the gorge. At one point I drive directly through a sizable waterfall which drops directly onto this track. The town of Puyo brings back memories of coastal Colombia and Panama – extremely hot, busy, and in various states of decay.

Jeep getting in on the waterfall action

Infront of some pretty mighty falls

I have half a mind to hike a good way up the now very active Volcán Tungurahua, which caused the evacuation of 20,000 residents in 1999 and has been on Yellow Alert ever since. After going only a short distance I am quickly deterred when I discover there really is no trail up my side and the thick clouds prevent any kind of views. Instead I hike down into Baños from my high camping perch and am rewarded with beautiful views of the town completely surrounded by huge mountains.

The town of Baños

I crawl out of my tent at sunrise each morning and am not disappointed by the spectacular views of the nearby volcano. On a couple of days fresh snow is clearly visible and I get my fill before the clouds soon close in. Cooking breakfast each morning with stunning views in all directions I wake up to the realization of exactly where I am; throughly in the Andes, camping, hiking and checking out every square inch and peaks my interest.
This is what I dreamed about for all those months

My campsite at Casa Del Arból with snow-capped Mt. Tungurahua

Baños is famous for hot springs and I of course make a visit early one morning. It’s a concrete pool affair for $2, complete with three pools; very hot, perfect soaking temperature and freezing cold.

On top of the world at Casa Del Arból

If you hadn’t already guessed, I really like it here.

-Dan

My 'friends' who joined me for lunch at Papagayo

I set out on the famous Quilotoa Loop not entirely sure what to expect and am immediately in awe of the scenery and little villages I constantly pass though. This tiny road winds it’s way through communities high in the the Andean mountains which I imagine have been much the same for hundreds of years. The highlight is by far Laguna Qilotoa, formed in the crater of an enormous inactive volcano at 3,800 meters elevation. A local guy lets me camp on his property about 5 meters from the edge of the rim, one of my better campsites for sure. Hiking around the rim the next morning takes about four and a half hours with some seriously impressive views along the way.

The endless green hills of the Quilotoa Loop

The full Laguna Quilotoa

I drive further and further along the deteriorating track, to the little town of Chugchilán. There are a couple of tiny stores, two hosterias and some street vendors selling suspicious looking meat on the one and only street in town. I check-in to one of the hosterias, with a private room, hot shower, dinner and breakfast all for $10 and set out to explore. After walking the length of town twice in five minutes, I venture up into the surrounding hills with no exact destination in mind. As I’ve come to expect the thick clouds roll in around lunchtime and there is a steady stream of rain for the remainder of the day. Although there is nothing to do per se, I come to like this little town and the friendly people going about their lives.

Iliniza Sur and Norte snuck out for just a minute

The trail around the entire rim

I finish the loop the next day by wandering around Saquisili, reported to have the ‘most authentic’ market in Ecuador. Indigenous people hike into town from miles around often using Llamas to pack their produce and hand made goods in and out. It’s not at all geared for tourists and is the lifeblood of the many communities in the area.
At least, this is what I’ve read.
The market is a Thursday-only affair and I’ve arrived on a Saturday. Maybe I’ll come back.

Just hanging out on the side of Laguna Quilotoa

On the rim of Laguna Quilotoa at my campsite

I still don’t know what that suspicious looking meat was, but it tasted pretty good

-Dan

At the border I asked about insurance and the guy kind of, sort of said it was mandatory to drive in Ecuador, but didn’t know where I could get it?! After pushing the issue for a while the guy helpfully suggested I just show my Colombian insurance because the Police wouldn’t be able to tell the difference anyway.
Under the pump in Quito I really have nothing to lose and give it a shot. The Police frown at it for thirty seconds then tell me in the future to show that first when asked for ‘documentation’. Sweet.

La Basilica in Old Town

I somehow manage to get all the way into The Secret Garden Hostel in Old Town using only the Lonely Planet maps for direction. It’s a grand old building positively packed with westerners and I immediately strike up friendships with anyone and everyone. There are constant warnings about how dangerous the city is, so I stay in at night and walk around with nothing in my pockets during the day. I wander all over Old Town looking at endless churches and squares before making my way into the much more commercial New Town. Western brand names are extremely prominent and every second sign is in English advertising a tourist trip to destinations like the Galapagos. It’s a very beautiful city with a really cool vibe, if not a little crowded and busy for my taste.

The city seems to stretch forever down the narrow valley

I’ve struggled to get decent maps since Guatemala and happily to make a visit to The Instituto Geográfico Militar, high on a hill overlooking downtown. The guys in uniform can’t contain their curiosity about my hair and I wind up with an excellent map of the entire country for $4.

Close up of La Basilica

Ecuador might just be the cheapest country I’ve been to yet. Gas is USD $1.47 per gallon and diesel is $1.07. Just to emphasize, that’s USD$ 0.39 per liter for gas. I’ve been buying a standard meal of soup, chicken or beef, rice, beans, salad and juice in markets for $1.30 and I can barely eat it all.

Looking North along the valley

I enjoy my three days in the city, and am thoroughly ready to get back into the mountains.

-Dan

It’s a very touristy place and there are half a dozen museums, a planetarium and who knows what else buried in all the restaurants and souvenir shops. I wander around looking at all the different displays and reading all the information boards. There is tons of really interesting trivia about the exact spot I am standing on and how it relates to the Earth as a whole and the Solar System.

Pretty happy to be on the magical line

I really want to get the Jeep up on the line, but the security guards have other ideas. Maybe if I cross it again over near the Pacific I’ll get another chance.

As close as I could get the Jeep

I can’t wait to see The Southern Cross in the night sky, a star constellation that reminds me so much of home.
I have not seen it in almost four years.

-Dan

The source of the hot spring at Tufiño

We move south, winding our way through numerous green valleys dotted with lush farmland. I catch a glimpse of an enormous snow-capped mountain in the distance and am jumping about with excitement and eagerness. Over the next few days we camp on the shores of Yahuarcocha Lake after driving around the racetrack that circles it, then on a lookout high above Laguna San Pablo, a beautiful spot that Vince is very proud to find.

Lush green hills of Ecuador

Another impressive Ecuadorian mountain

We make a stop at Parque Nacional El Condor and wander around the impressive collection of eagles, owls, hawks, condors and other birds of prey. The mountainous backdrop when the keeper lets a couple of birds fly around is jaw-dropping and the sight of a condor fully extending it’s wings is hard to digest.

Watching this guy eat dead mice was impressive

Laguna Yahuarcocha, complete with racetrack

The city of Otavaldo hosts Ecuador’s biggest local market and we’re up early on Saturday morning to squeeze as much out of it as possible. We first make our way to the animal market on the edge of town, an amazing mix of people and every animal you can think of crammed into a tight space, with people and animals alike trying to make as much noise as possible. Deals are happening left and right with everything from chickens and guinea pigs to goats and donkeys being traded faster than I can keep up. I thoroughly enjoy sitting at a small local stall for breakfast where we strike up a conversation with some Colombians who have come to checkout the prices.

The Land Rover of Vince and Marie into the mountains

We next wander down into the center of town to market central where almost every woman is wearing an extremely colorful traditional dress. Photos of people in Ecuador are a touchy subject, so my camera stays in my bag for the day. The market is so huge the stalls are overflowing out in all directions from the central square with half the streets in the city closed to traffic. There are clothes, trinkets, hats, blankets and more in all sorts of beautiful shapes, sizes and colors to admire. As is usual with these markets bargaining is the order of the day and before long the items on each table all start to blend together and look more or less identical. I’m happy to see that almost every item I look at clearly says “Made in Ecuador”, even if they are obviously made in bulk on machinery. The streets are packed and there is real excitement in the air. It’s obvious many people from outlying communities make the journey into town just for the market and they are having as much fun as I am, laughing and smiling in the warm sun.

After the excitement of the market we’re looking to get away a little and drive up to Lagunas de Mojanda, a huge lake sitting at 3,700 meters. The heavy Land Rover can’t climb a steep, muddy hill so I continue to explore the area on my own while Vince and Marie retreat to our camp site for the night, on the shore of a smaller lake in a beautiful valley.

At 4000 meters above Laguna de Mojanda

No idea how that mud got there

In the morning I push hard and hike to the summit of Fuya Fuya at 4,250 meters in only an hour and a half – a decision I strongly regret only an hour later. Back at the Jeep at around 3,700 I feel fine, but by the time I drive down into town I have a headache more intense than any I’ve experienced in my life. I seriously think about being sick and both Vince and Marie can’t believe how pale I am.
Aspirin is supposed to help by increasing circulation, so I drink a couple down and catch a short nap in front seat of the Jeep, making me feel about a thousand times better.
A few hours later I’ve almost forgotten all about it.
I’ll have to be careful next time I hike at high altitude.

At the top of Fuya Fuya, somewhere above 4000 meters

To finish off our time around the beautiful Otavaldo region, we head up to Laguna Cuicocha in the Reserva Ecológica Citacachi-Cayapas. The guys at the entrance gate seem to change their price a few times before we pay $5 for all three of us to enter the park and camp for the night on a beautiful perch high above the lake. The lake sits in the crater of the inactive Volcán Cotacachi and in the morning we hike the 5 hour loop around the rim – an extremely beautiful walk that includes a huge variety of ecosystems and breathtaking views.

Morning reflections in Laguna Cuicocha

Wow, this place is stunning! I can’t wait for whatever is next.

-Dan

The hedge garden in Tulcan

We drive under the obligatory “Welcome to Ecuador” sign, flanked by about ten impressive looking Police in full riot gear. We park, fill in an immigration form and wait in line for about twenty minutes to be stamped into Ecuador for 90 days. In a small, clean office just around the corner we hand over copies of our registration, passport and license and half an hour later the friendly guy has everything typed up and we are on our way. Interestingly, I’ve been using my Canadian drivers license for the entire trip. I do have an international drivers license, though I’ve never been asked to show it once.

This is by far the friendliest, easiest, cheapest border crossing of the journey.

Dan in the hedge garden in Tulcan

-Dan

Grand idol at San Agustin

Another idol at San Agustin

While staying in town I get two more flat tires repaired and have a great time chatting to the shop guys in Spanish. They are very interested in my Jeep and where I have driven from and are genuinely curious about other countries and want to know what it was like through Central America. It gets really hilarious when a bunch of school children show up and want me to help them with their English homework. Their English is a little below the level of my Spanish so I have a great time explaining past tense and helping them through various exercises. For an unknown reason almost every English student I’ve come across has been very shy to actually speak in English and these guys are no exception. For all my prodding and encouragement, I barely get a “Hello” in reply.

Jeep / Land Rover hybrid

We wave goodbye to my hitchhiking backpacker and move south towards the border. We’ve been told the road through the mountains to Pasto is one of the worst in Colombia, and it doesn’t disappoint. Extremely bumpy, rutted, narrow and windy, we spend five hours driving 120 kms with more than a few close encounters with huge trucks and busses. Often we have to reverse back out of the way when we come face to face around a blind curve.

"In winter it's preferable to drive during the day"

The crazy road widing into the mountanis

Crossing a river in the mountains of Colombia

After camping another rainy night by Laguna de la Cocha we move further south to Santuario de las Lajas, where an immense church has been built in a beautiful canyon. It’s a very peaceful place and we find a huge parking lot just above to camp for the night.

Laguna De La Cocha

Colombia has been noticeably bigger than the countries I’ve passed through recently and I’ve really enjoyed moving from North to South. The price of gas has varied quite a lot, usually between $3.20 and $3.80 a gallon and significantly cheaper near the Venezuelan and Ecuadorian borders. There have been many police and military checkpoints, which have all been friendly and gone smoothly. At one I’m asked to take every single item out of the Jeep while they search, a process that takes over an hour, but ends in friendly handshakes and wishes of good luck for the future.
Car insurance is mandatory here and the $40 I paid for two months is well worth it as I’m asked for it time and time again.

The valley of Santuario De Las Lajas

Santuario De Las Lajas

My time in Colombia has been fantastic, and nothing at all like the stereotype would have you think. I’ve constantly met the happiest, friendliest people of my entire journey in Colombia and my only regret is that I only asked for 30 days on my visa, which means it’s time to leave. I won’t make that mistake again.
Just like the marketing brochure says:

Colombia: The only danger is you’ll never want to leave

-Dan

Camping on the side of the road

After a couple of days I collect another hitchhiking backpacker and move east intothe mountains past Parque Nacional Puracé, a spectacular road that winds past a sulphur mine and a few hot springs and waterfalls. I don’t feel like paying the $10 park entrance fee, so don’t hike Volcán Puracé or visit the hot springs. The road gets steeper and narrower the further we go until we are literally winding our way along a single lane track with a 40 meter drop to a ranging river below. A massive truck approaches from the opposite direction so I move over as far as possible, while he advances in the very middle of the road. He does not move over at all, and even yells at me when we are level. As he roars off he hits the back of the Jeep, luckily only catching the very end of the rear bar, denting it and bending it off square.
I don’t know what that’s all about.

Waterfall behind Tierradentro, flooded with recent rain

We camp on the side of this small road in the middle of beautiful green mountains and move on early the next morning to the tiny village of Tierradentro. After paying the $8 entry fee for foreigners to enter the archeological park we set out to hike a loop that joins five sites dotted around the valley and surrounding hillsides. Very quickly we appreciate what a great place we’ve found – it’s a beautiful sunny day and we’re surrounded by lush green mountains dotted with farms and little houses.

The green valley of Tierradentro

The area was inhabited by agricultural precolombians from 1000 BC to 1900 AD with the main evidence of that being various tombs dotted across the landscape. At each site a caretaker escorts us around the various tombs, which are reached by insanely steep concrete stairs that descend into the darkness. Some of the tombs have faces carved into the stone and patterns painted on the walls making them extremely beautiful.

The stairs down into the tombs were insane

Looking out of a tomb at Tierradentro

The highlight for me is the hike to the site called ‘Alto del Aguacate’, which winds through countless little farms on the side of mountains and after some serious climbing ends at the top of a ridge with 360° views. It’s a huge day of hiking and we love it. I bumped into Vince & Marie, my friends I shared a shipping container with, in Salento and find their Land Rover here in Tierradentro as well. Before long we are enjoying laughs over dinner and set up our tent in torrential rain.

Painting inside a tomb

We thought the faces were transformers at Tierradentro

On top of the world at Tierradentro

The next morning we head out in a convoy along the narrow, windy roads only to find the road to civilization has been washed out overnight. After chatting to a bunch of locals we come up with a plan and set out on some very crazy roads. Over the next few hours we cross a couple of impressive and sketchy bridges and drive on some of the most remote roads of my entire trip. It’s great to be so far off the beaten path and locals are genuinely amazed to see us as we roll through tiny little villages.

They build some impressive bridges in these parts

The remote roads in Colombia

The road through the mountains we drove down

Driving through the mountains of Colombia

It’s great to travel with Vince and Marie again and I feel like anything is possible when we are together.

Pet vulture and child, together ?!?

-Dan

Salento in the early morning

Nearby is the beautiful Valle de Cocora, which actually touches into the western side of Parque Nacional Natural Los Nevados. I set out on a small hiking loop, following a river up a lush valley into the mountains. At the end of the trail a family farm has taken advantage of the tourist potential and for $1.50 I get a drink of my choice and viewing of the hummingbirds that are too numerous to count. I sit and watch as the father and two sons load a horse with gear to take down the trail, which they do in the most untroubled manner.

Hiking along the river in Valle de Cocora

Hummingbirds in action

From the farm I hike up to a lookout on a mountaintop which is totally socked in with clouds before looping back to the start. On the way I pass through an extremely green valley filled with the famous wax palm trees – some are over 200 years old. A torrential storm rolls in complete with thunder and lightning, an event I get used to over the coming days. Every morning I get up at sunrise to beautiful blue skies and warm weather and by two or three in the afternoon a huge storm moves over town, dumps enormous amounts of rain then clears again by nightfall.

The amazing wax palms in Valle de Cocora

Wax palms in Valle de Cocora

I love the atmosphere and friendly people so much I stay for five days, wandering around town and the surrounding hills. The farmers here are a dedicated bunch, farming hills so steep it’s a challenge to walk up and down them and it’s great to see the mixed agriculture in the area. In one plot I spot coffee, bananas, pineapples, avocado and bamboo which is used a lot for construction here.

We all loved it when one of these guys had a try at the carnival game with a pellet gun. Hilarious.

-Dan

The temperature drops quite quickly and I smile when I have to wind up my window due to the cold and not long after I turn on the heater, a novelty. I climb and climb and climb and take the turn-off to Parque Nacional Natural Los Nevados. Before long I roll by a sign announcing I’m at 4,000 meters, clearly the highest I’ve ever been in my life. The sun is falling fast so I find a quiet spot off the side of the road to pitch my tent. My only visitors for the night are a herd of cows that are very curious and seem to like hanging around. Once the sun disappears it’s not just cold, but freezing, my little thermometer showing below zero before the night is done.

Guerilla camping in Colombia at 4000 meters

Early in the morning I move up into the park itself which is already busy due to the Easer holidays. All of the rangers are extremely friendly and try exceedingly hard to help me as I move from an orientation session (in extremely fast Spanish) to filling out a basic form to enter the park. Entrance is quite expensive for foreigners, I pay (in $USD) $19 for entry, $12 for a mandatory guide, $6 for the Jeep and another $6 to camp in the official campground for a night.

Rock formation in the National Park

Our guide, Michelle, jumps in my Jeep and we form a convoy of four vehicles driving up high into the park. Every five minutes or so we jump out to have a look at the beautiful scenery while Michelle explains the geological features around us. While we drive together I practice my Spanish which again improves a lot in a very short time. We drive up and up, until we reach 4,700 meters where we have to climb the rest on foot. Michelle explains how quickly we’ll run short of breath at this elevation and so we hike up as slowly as physically possible. I’m careful to make sure I don’t have to breathe really hard, though I can feel my heart rate racing to keep up.

Road to the top

In just over an hour we reach the glacier, at 5,125 meters. It’s stunningly beautiful and everyone is really excited to see ice and snow, the first time for many of the locals. It’s surreal to be up this high in the Andes, the first time of many for me I’m sure. After an hour of hanging around and walking on the glacier I make my make back down to the campground, at around 4,200 meters. By this time I have a mean headache that doesn’t go away until late the following day.

At the summit of Nevado del Ruiz, 5125 meters

At the campground I meet some locals who are crazy about hiking and camping, and even crazier about showing off their fantastic country. We quickly pour over my map of Colombia, talking excitedly about all the places I need to see. The night is again frosty cold and I have out all my cold weather gear, including thermals and two sleeping bags. A couple of times in the night I can feel my heart rate skyrocket just from the exertion of rolling over.

Driving up into the mountains, at about 4500 meters

Interestingly the Jeep performs really well at such high elevations, only take-offs are a little sketchy and need a lot more accelerator than usual. I can think of no better way to relax and cure my headache than a soak in a Hot Spring, and as luck would have it there is one just on the outskirts of Manizales, which I make use of for a couple of hours.

Crater La Olleta, the inactive volcano

-Dan

A few things about the Jeep are worth noting:

• After hunting high and low around Colombia for 10W30 motor oil I finally found some at a garage that threw in an oil change for free. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever had someone else change the oil on my vehicle, which is a little strange. An idea my Dad came up with a long time ago was to get someone else to change the oil so I could have a really good look underneath while on the hoist. I did exactly that and am really satisfied everything major is going great.

• The steering stabilizer I bought soon before setting out has basically crapped out, leaking oil and doing not a lot of stabilizing. This means I get vibrations through the steering wheel that will tend towards death wobble and the Jeep wanders a little on the highway. I’ll keep an eye out for a replacement, though I’m not too concerned about it.

• Ever since I bought the Jeep there has been a really strange hollow clunk in the front end when on rough roads, which I always assumed was something steering/suspension related. It’s been getting worse lately, so I’ve been investigating. It turns out the shift lever for 4×4 is really poorly designed and they are notorious for clunking loudly. I verified this was the case while climbing around underneath. It’s great to know what the problem is and that I can safely ignore it.

• Back in Costa Rica when I was driving on a lot of really bad gravel roads the Jeep developed a really strange clunk/clang noise that was worrying me a lot. After some poking around underneath it turned out where the exhaust bolts onto the headers was not tight, causing the whole thing to rattle. A nice simple fix.

• For the first time ever, I could actually notice a drop in the oil level before the change. The couple of gaskets that weep don’t appear to be getting worse, so maybe she’s burning a little oil now that she’s getting a little long of the tooth. It didn’t drop much, so I’ll keep a close eye on it.

• I’ve finally bought some silicon to fix the ‘water on the front passenger floor mat problem’

These Willys Jeeps are all over Colombia, usually overflowing with people and gear

-Dan

The sleepy fishing village of Taganga

Cruising

Eel hiding

Some kind of eel thing

All OK diving at night

I move around to Parque National Tayrona, an extremely beautiful reserve with an abundance of white sand beaches. I have to hike in a few kilometers and camp just back from the beach at Arrecifes.
The highlight for me is a serious jungle trek to the ruins of the ancient city of Pueblito with a few friends I made along the way.

The Arrecifes campground in Tayrona

Beach in Tayrona

The runins of Pueblito in Tayrona

The runins of Pueblito in Tayrona again

The runins of Pueblito in Tayrona and again

-Dan

Skip a few days to Colombia and the port in Cartegena is not far from our hotel, so on another blisteringly hot & humid day we walk down to our customs agent, hoping to start the paperwork game on the Colombian end. We’ve heard all manner of horror stories from paying many hundreds of dollars to vehicles being impounded to waiting weeks for customs clearances. Sounds like fun in any case.

The agent working for Marfret knows all about us and has our paperwork ready and waiting. Again there are stamps and signatures, this time even a really fancy one that makes the paper bumpy, and us say ‘Ooohhh’. The agent wants us to pay $35 each for a ‘Documentation Fee’, which we try to get out of. When we show the original quote that included a $50 fee, the agent happily raises the price to $50. Damn. After a good deal of negotiating we end up paying $35 each and then split the other $15 (?!?). We’re OK with this as we think it partly makes up for paying less in Panama City.

We move just down the road to customs and get the process happening there and are more than a little amused to once again run into our French friends. It’s great to see familiar faces and we catch up on all the news since we saw them.
I’m impressed when a customs guy checks our container number in a database and immediately knows exactly when the ship docked, when our container was offloaded and exactly where it is. After filling out a standard vehicle form and making certain we have just the right number of copies of everything we’re told to wait while it’s all typed up. The office is extremely professional, clean and air conditioned and I’m really happy with how things move along, not at all stressed. Unfortunately it’s now time for a two hour lunch break, so we settle in for some waiting. After lunch we discover the only person that can give us the final signature is in a meeting and we wait a further two hours for that one signature before we are all set to collect the container.

Around the corner at the port itself we a given security passes and move inside and meet a guy that has been waiting for us. He speaks great English and obviously assists tourists through this process regularly, making things much simpler for us. I don’t have life insurance so am not allowed to enter the actual port to collect the Jeep. I want to go in, but hand the keys over to Vince to keep the process moving along. They seem pretty serious about safety here, actually checking up on his insurance and giving him a vest and hardhat to wear.

Vince playing workman

Vince moves the two vehicles out of the container and parks them in the port, a service we have to pay for. It must be our lucky day as we are not selected for ‘random’ inspection so the process can continue and we don’t have to pay extra for the inspection. A few hours later I watch Vince drive the Jeep out of the port, before he returns for his Land Rover.

I’ve never heard of anyone getting their vehicles from this port in only one day and most people end up paying around $115 after the inspection fees. Talk about a lucky break.
It’s 9:15pm when I drive out into the streets of Cartagena, more than a little dumbfounded to be driving my Jeep in South America. It makes my head hurt

Final Price (per car, sharing a 40′ High Cube container):

• Actual Shipping (inc. Ocean Freight, Bunker, Stuffing & Unstuffing & Lashing) $554
• Documentation Fee for Bill of Lading paid to customs agent Mario $100
• Bribe for Mario’s guy to correct paperwork at customs $10
• Port Fee in Colón: $5
• Documentation Fee in Colombia: $43
• Port Fee in Colombia: $58
• TOTAL: $770

(A regular 40′ container is the same price as a High Cube)

Our shipping agent

Rozo / Marfret:
ROZO & CO. (PANAMA) S.A.
URB. NUEVO PAITILLA
DUPLEX NO. 38
PANAMA CITY
The man in charge who helped us immensely was Mr. Martinez (gmartinez@therozogroup.com.pa)
I would take his advice on which customs agent to use (maybe Mario, maybe not)

Feel free to ask any questions about the entire process, I’m more than happy to help anyone attempting this.

-Dan

1. Sailing is about $375-$400 and takes 3 – 5 days.
2. We couldn’t leave Panama City until the ship with our container departed allowing us to collect our “original” Bill of Lading. This makes timing difficult and we would have to pay for container storage if it sat in Colombia more seven days after arrival.
3. Sticking with Vince and Marie wasn’t 100% necessary, though it kept things a lot simpler.
4. We got plane tickets for $150 each (inc. taxes), see http://www.aires.aero/Home/Default.aspx

Late in the afternoon we catch a city bus for two and a half hours through downtown Panama City rush hour traffic. It’s obvious everyone else on the bus makes this trip daily and they zone out after no more than two minutes. Security at the airport is similar to elsewhere I’ve been in the world, and we soon find ourselves loaded into a little dash-8. I haven’t been in a plane with a propeller for a long time and I somehow feel like I’m back in small town Australia.

The flight itself feels like it’s over before it even begins, barely an hour in total. I step off the plane onto the tarmac with an enormous grin on my face as do Vince and Marie. We’ve made it to South America and couldn’t be happier.
The guy at customs is very friendly, simply asks if I am on vacation and happily stamps my passport and waves me through.

The old "walled" city of Cartagena

We find a cheap hotel in the Getsemani neighborhood of Cartegena and head out to explore. Immediately things feel different than in Central America – it’s very busy and more motorcycles and tuk-tuks give an Asian/Indian feel. Wandering into the old walled city is really cool, the whole area is very clean, well patrolled and heavily touristed making it feel very safe. Outside the old city is a lot more raw and dirty, though I have no reason not to feel safe and quickly get the hang of things.
Cartagena is a very beautiful city.

Buildings in Cartagena

When my friend Mike’s trip to South America was unexpectedly cut short his ‘wish list’ of activities sat uncompleted – until now.
I’m not going to make this the focus of my journey, though it will be fun to see how many I can complete along the way:

• Bathe in the Amazon (but do not get a parasite).
• Have a fresh cup of Colombian coffee.
• Go to Carnival in Rio.
• Go to a soccer game in Brazil (but do not die in a riot).
• Visit the ancient ruins of the Incan city Machu Picchu.
• Stand on the Equator.
• Find penguins at the southern tip of Argentina.
• Ride an alpaca.
• Shear an alpaca.
• Eat chili in Chile.
• Learn five new swear words and say them to people.
• Spelunking.
• Go to a beach in Argentina.
• Helicopter tour of the Nazca Lines.
• Go to Lake Titicaca.
• Visit the Galapagos Islands (swim with iguanas).
• Visit Iguaçu Falls, if possible kayak or barrel roll down them.
• Visit the Patagonia glaciers.
• Meet a gaucho.
• Eat a guinea pig (Jess Baran highly disapproves of this).
• Eat world’s hottest pepper from Chile.

Feel free to leave a comment with your own suggestions

Castillo do San Felipe in Cartagena

-Dan

Panama City "The Miama of the south"

The number one attraction in town is obviously The Canal and before visiting I make a stop at the museum in Casco Viejo which is amazing considering the tiny $2 admission price. My engineering background means I’m fascinated by the surveying work that was undertaken before construction began. One map in particular shows proposed routes through Tehuantepec in Mexico, through lake Nicaragua, through a couple of different places in Panama and finally one using a river mostly in modern-day Colombia. The decision didn’t actually come down to the “shortest” distance to dig as you might think, but primarily on how the mountain range through Central America would be dealt with. The final location chosen meant it was possible to create a huge in-land lake and use locks to elevate the ships 28 meters to that level.
One French guy proposed digging deep enough to eliminate the need for locks, though it was decided this would be too great a task.

Panama City by night

On a sunny morning Mike and I head out to Miraflores Locks, the main set of locks close the city. There are three lock chambers here to elevate or lower the ships as required and the Pacific Ocean is just around a bend. It’s a very busy place with another “museum”, theatre and viewing platform.
We sit for a couple of hours while two enormous tankers make their way through, a sight to behold for sure.

Looking out into the Pacific

There is lots of information here about the handover at the end of 1999 when control of the Canal was handed to the Panamanians from the USA. Soon after the government announced a huge proposal to allow the passage of bigger ships, which was approved by about 78% when put to a national referendum.
In layman’s terms they are dredging some parts a bit deeper and building entirely new locks next to the existing ones. When finished the new and existing locks will continue to be used and ships about 50% wider and longer will be able to pass through.
Reading online there are already ships in existence that still won’t fit.

Looking along the Canal to the Atlantic

We also spend a good deal of time in and around the city, nicknamed “The Miami of the south – only with more English spoken”.

Tanker entering the locks

Central America has been good to me and I’ve really enjoyed myself.
It’s time for something new

-Dan

We finally negotiate with Mario to send along his customs guy who clearly does not want to and proceeds to drive like a maniac as we follow him along the toll road to Colón and the port we will ship from. We stop in at the Manfret office to get more copies of paperwork and more important-looking stamps then move to the ‘free-zone’ and customs. Here we hand over everything we have and receive a permit for our vehicles to exit the country. Again everything is in triplicate, including stamps and signatures. The stamps in our passports that prevent us from leaving are also cancelled here.
It’s funny when we bump into the French travelers once again, who somehow talked their way around their paperwork problem and are back in the game.

Back at the port a random guy is asking for us and calls us in to get a security pass. He explains in great detail where we must take the cars, which sounds easy enough. Back outside Mario’s customs guy tells us to stand in line X and hand over our paperwork before he bids us farewell and disappears.

Time is rapidly ticking down and we’re starting to get a little anxious about the closing time of the port.
Forty five minutes later we’re still waiting in the scorching heat and summarize our position:

• We have no idea why we are standing in line.

• We have no idea why we gave all of our paperwork away.

• We have no idea why we must pay $5 each.

• We hope like mad we are in the right place doing the right thing.

We eventually get everything back and jump in our cars, excited to actually load the container. The directions we got earlier turn out to be useless and we are quickly driving aimlessly around the port with no clue where to go, even driving along a muddy gravel road that negates our car wash plan. At one point I follow Vince into a security check point where the guards furiously yell and wave their arms at us before we can even ask directions.

On a complete guess we try to walk into a yard with a lot of cars around and a guard takes our passports and hands us another security badge. We realize we are at the extremely busy RORO section where people are furiously getting cars inspected for importation. Still with no idea if we are in the right place we ask a lady who takes half of our paperwork into an office then gives the other half to another man, before they tell us to wait with the 25 guys importing cars.

We both have doubts we are in the correct place and now we don’t even have the paperwork we’ve invested so much time in.
We stand around in the hot sun feeling lost and helpless.
Heat, exhaustion and frustration make losing it look like a valid option at this point.

Finally we get an indication of progress when the guards from earlier are alerted to our permitted entry. We drive into the yard and wait for an inspection by the K-9 unit. The dog climbs in and on everything, never once looking more than downright bored. Again we wait, with the clock approaching 4:30pm, knowing the port closes at 5. Finally a customs guys says he can take us to our container so he jumps in with Vince and away we go deep into the port.

The K-9 unit throughly searching the Jeep

I’ve never been to a major shipping port like this and can’t help but be in awe. We drive right down to within 20 meters of the water where enormous cargo ships are slowly gliding by. Directly overhead is a crane that is simply too big to be real and shipping containers are stacked high all around us. When we park in front of our container we both know we’ve made it and begin to smile and joke around at our success against all odds.

Photo of the dock I was not supposed to take

A few minutes later we get another K-9 inspection that also walks through the empty container before we drive inside. We got a 40 foot ‘high cube’ container so Vince can drive straight in with his roof tent and we have plenty of room to spare lengthwise and about 40cm on each side. While waiting for the lashing crew to show up, I sit quitely on the concrete at 4:45pm, feeling happy and exhausted at the same time.

Waiting to drive into the container

All four wheels are chocked and the four corners are tied down. We do a quick inspection, take a few photos, and sign a few forms as customs close and put a special seal on the container, now ready to go.

Vince driving the Land Rover into the container

At 5:30 we are back at the entrance to the port and I sit on the gutter to eat my ‘lunch’ of fried chicken, fries and coke, the first thing I have had to eat or drink since 7am. We catch a taxi into downtown Colon, the express bus to Panama City and another taxi back to our hotel.

Home for the next few days

This is by far the biggest, most insane few days of paperwork I’ve gone through in my life and as I drift off to sleep I can’t help smiling at the enormity of it all.
32000kms, nine months and ten countries down the adventure continues to grow.

Lashed down and closing up

-Dan

This story concludes in Shipping across The Darien Gap Pt. 4

Seaboard Marine: The well known favorite of tourists offer a good service for a fair price that includes all the little extra costs and annoyances. The detailed quote we are given is for $1880 for the two cars, showing all the various items. It’s confusing why something like unstuffing would be per vehicle, which is not adequately explained to us. Of course it’s not supposed to make sense. After a lot of back-and-forward they won’t budge so we move on, using this as our baseline.

Barwil: The second favorite of tourists is obviously used to dealing with foreigners. A lady speaking good English ushers us into a very nice air conditioned office and hands us a very simple piece of paper showing $1900 with no breakdown of the costs. When we try to clarify we’re told everything is included except the customs charges in Colombia which they can do nothing about. We ask them to get back to us and are assured they ‘will not be more than $200 – $400 per vehicle’. Hmm

While sitting in the Barwil office Marie picks up a small newspaper all about ocean freight. It shows all the shipping companies in Panama City so we quickly get in contact with as many as possible.

Marfret (Rozo): Marfret is a French company so partly as a joke we decide to stop in and get a quote. The quote is low at $1460, but appears incomplete. When we try to clarify the details with Raiza, an assistant, it’s obvious she doesn’t know the details and doesn’t want to commit to anything.
We leave the office with more questions than before we arrived, but we are excited about the possibility of such a low price.

At the end of the day we still think Seaboard Marine is in the lead, and will continue to investigate the options at Marfret and other companies we have emailed.

Day Two – The search continues
We receive an email from Marfret that doesn’t really answer any of our questions so we jump in a taxi and head back to the office. Again Raiza is incapable of answering our questions and mentions her boss will be in the office shortly should we wish to talk with him.
When Mr. Martinez arrives everything changes immediately. He’s extremely professional, speaks excellent English and clarifies every question we have and then some. He even makes the quote lower because unstuffing is per container, not per vehicle. Now we’re down to $1233 and feeling much happier, with only one small hick-up to go. Marfret is purely a shipping company and as such don’t handle any of the paperwork, for that we’ll need a customs broker.

We move across town to the office of Mario, who can help us out. After he’s clarified exactly what we’ll need and some serious bargaining from Vince the price drops from $250 down to $100 each, with a guy to help us along the way. The ship we’re aiming for sails on a Sunday, which means we’ll have to load the container on Friday, leaving not a single day to spare.
We’ll make it

Day Three – Customs, Inspections & Insanity
We must get permission take our temporarily imported vehicles out of Panama, which is quite a task because we are not going with them. Our first stop is a customs inspection, only open from 10-11am where they will check over the paperwork we recieved at the border when entering the country. Waiting in the lot becomes quite amusing when another two French couples with vehicles show up, and then four guys on motorbikes. The police warn us this is a very dangerous neighborhood and we should be extra cautious, especially of children. We’re all dumbfounded considering we are standing in the parking lot of a police station, but keep a lookout all the same.

Waiting for inspection in Panama City

The inspection guy looks at the VIN number of the Jeep for about one second before he circles a mistake on my paperwork and walks away. The VIN number is correct, but at the border they only put the first half of it under “Engine Number”, which is not acceptable. My Jeep doesn’t even have an Engine Number, so apparently the entire VIN again is required. With no time to spare our customs chaperon and I race down the road to customs, get a new form, race back and get re-inspected. During this time Vince and Marie went back to the hotel and now a problem is found with their paperwork (a mistake in the VIN). Again we race down the road, I forge Vince’s signature on the form and we race back in time to get our papers in. While getting a new form I bump into one of the French couples and two of the motorbike guys, all with mistakes on their entrance paperwork.

Vince posing with his Land Rover

At 2pm an office of the police over the road opens that will finally approve our paperwork. We’re told our customs guy will meet us there so we wait, and wait and wait. Stress levels slowly rise and person after person runs out of the building and down the street to get a copy of some piece of paper or other. Everyone I talk to requires different copies and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the madness. After calling twice our guy finally shows up and we find we can not enter with shorts or flip-flops. After much shuffling and loaning of clothes and shoes everyone except me makes it inside. As time ticks down one of the motorbike guys gives me his pants and boots (he wears my shorts and flip-flops on his motorbike) and I walk into the office at 4:57pm, just as the lady says she will not process the paperwork for anyone else.

I somehow scrape through and get a hold of a single piece of paper that for some unknown reason has become the focus of my life. At one point there are three identical copies of my eight pieces of paper, each with at least three or four stamps and signatures. I shake my head.

A problem is found with the paperwork of one of the French couples’ and so everything for them grinds to a halt. The office over the road is closed and nothing can be done until 10am tomorrow when the whole process is started again. They are also short on time and have already booked non-refundable plane tickets, which is all falling apart. Stress levels are through the roof for all of us and one guy completely loses it and starts yelling and screaming, not helping anything.
Vince and I have survived to progress another day.

Dan’s handy advice to others:

• Firstly, give yourself plenty of time. If your ship is sailing on Friday, get the inspection done on Monday and relax for the week. Almost all of us had a short timeline and it was pure madness for no good reason. Running your heart out to a photocopier and back is not very fun.

• When you enter Panama and get a piece of paper for your vehicle, make certain, and I mean 100% certain that every single piece of ink on that paper is correct. Nothing is too insignificant, trust me on that. Of the eight of us trying to get through that day, six had problems on their entrance paper.

• If you later discover it’s not correct, get yourself to customs (Aduana) and get a corrected form before you do anything else.

• For the inspection day be certain to wear long pants, closed toe shoes and sleeves. The guard will not let you in otherwise and you’ll save a ton of hassle this way.

• At a minimum you will need copies of everything you have, probably multiple copies. The one that snagged most people was a copy of the entrance stamp to Panama from your passport.

We’re a step closer to Colombia and South America.
The madness & excitement continue to build.

-Dan

This story continues in Shipping across The Darien Gap Pt. 3

The Wikipedia article for the Darien Gap has all the details, which are pretty interesting. A couple of seriously equipped vehicles have made it across, so technically the Guinness Book of Records is correct in listing the Pan-Am as the longest drivable road, though it’s not something I’m about to tackle.

I hear the current president of Panama is very interested in building the highway through to Colombia, a topic that comes up every few years and has lots of opposition due to political, environmental and economic concerns.
I’m not holding my breath.

There are a number of common ways to cross the gap with a vehicle:

• Load the car into a shipping container and use traditional ocean freight, normally from the port of Colón in Panama to Cartegena in Colombia. Costs just under $1000 for a 20 foot container big enough for one vehicle.

• “Roll-On, Roll-Off” (RORO), similar to a ferry. The main difference is the port workers have the keys and drive the vehicle. This method appears to be cheap, in the $500 range, and is accompanied by many horror stories of theft. There are reports of a service from Costa Rica to Ecuador and other variations.

• “Lift-On, Lift-Off” (LOLO), similar to the above, where the vehicle is lifted with a crane on and off the ship, without handing over the keys. Clearly the best choice for a vehicle that doesn’t fit in a shipping container but expensive because it’s charged by the cubic meter (around $2000 for a big camper).

Notes:

• A traditional ferry used to make the crossing, but it went bankrupt a few years back.

• In all of the above only the vehicle is being transported – it is not possible for people to ride along so that’s a story for another day.

The motorcycle crew have a huge advantage here in that they can take advantage of the numerous small yachts making the crossing. Bikes are man-handled on and off at each end and ride on the deck of the boats covered in tarps. Almost all boats allow the rider to come along for the amazing trip through the San Blas Islands and some even take care of the customs paperwork at each end. I’m told costs are around $700 for bike and rider. Checkout Hostal Wunderbar who have tons of experience organizing this trip for riders and come very highly recommended.

Since meeting Rupert on the Belize/Guatemala border I’ve been thinking about and trying to plan ahead for the Darien crossing. A ton of travelers have ben exchanging emails trying to figure out details and dates and I’ve known about a French couple that have literally been only a few days behind me for the entire trip. Vince and Marie are driving around the entire world in their Land Drover and we’re really excited to share a a big 40 foot shipping container, which makes things slightly cheaper than going alone. More than saving money, it’s great to team up with other travelers I can relate to so well, and they fill my head with stories and adventures to come. Checkout their website, http://www.viamundi.fr/ (in French).
Absolutely amazing!

I very quickly have to learn a lot of new terminology related to shipping and Vince explains it’s all in the details. If we’re not careful and don’t negotiate everything in the price a ton of ‘extras’ will bite us later. We’ll pay extra to have the container moved to a location suitable for loading, we’ll pay extra to have the vehicles “lashed” in, we’ll pay extra for.. well, pretty much everything.

Here is a small explanation for anyone new to the process:
Ocean Freight: The cost of actually shipping the container from A to B.
Bunker: The cost of the fuel for the ship.
Stuffing: Getting the goods into the container and sealing it. The details here are important as this may include moving the container around or not.
Lashing: Physically lashing the vehicles into the container so they don’t move around.
Unstuffing: Getting the goods out of the container, which again may include moving the container from the port to the yard or not.
Documentation Fee: The cost of lodging all the paperwork with customs.
Bill of Lading: The official document describing the contents of the container.
Port Fees: The amount charged by the port to allow the container and it’s contents to pass.

Notes:

• All of the above may be charged per container or per vehicle and may cover both ends or not.

• Everyone seems to have a different idea about having separate Bills of Lading for each vehicle. If you do only get one, make certain it’s clear who owns which vehicle.

• Also make sure the Bill of Lading says “vehicle in transit”. We’re told this will make the process in Colombia much easier.

Lots more to come on this one.

-Dan

This story continues in Shipping across The Darien Gap Pt. 2

We really have no idea what to do on the island, and quickly sink into the party atmosphere for a huge night. Nursing immense hangovers the following day we notice an abundance of SCUBA diving centers offering really good prices. After asking around the entire town we sign up for a PADI open water certification at “The Dutch Priate”, a course of six dives over three days. As part of the package we stay on Isla Bastimentos, a tiny island just a few minutes away from it’s bigger neighbor. The community and vibe are really different here – there are no roads and only very basic shacks for houses. We see only one or two tourists in three days, the polar opposite of Isla Colón.

The Dutch Pirate

The rain we had in Costa Rica has followed us down and it pours endlessly for days, not the best conditions for SCUBA diving. Our first few dives are all about skills where we sit on the bottom of the ocean practicing different things that need to be mastered like hand signals and buoyancy control. A big part of the course is paperwork and study, which we complete in the evenings. Once the basics are under control we move out and explore the coral and sea life, which is absolutely stunning. On one dive we go down to 18 meters for a few minutes, another we explore the wreck of a ferry and yet another we swim along a rock shelf that has all manner of creatures living in, on & under it.

Hanging out at the dutch pirate

The constant rain means the visibility is never great and we are constantly cold, though we’re both grinning like mad every time we come out of the water. I haven’t been SCUBA diving for quite a few years and I’d forgotten how amazing it is.
I’ll be going again soon, I’m sure.

Our house for a few days

Upon arrival back at the Jeep the only problem is the family of very determined little ants that have setup camp inside. Every time I kill off a group of a few thousand and think I’m finally done, another few thousand crawl out of a hole and keep me busy. It turns out the Jeep has a lot more little hiding places that I realized.
Luckily these ones don’t bite.
We camp a night at the beautiful Playa Las Lajas on the Pacific coast before a big day of driving to Panama City. At the edge of the city we drive over The Bridge Of The Americas which spans the Panama Canal and can clearly see enormous container ships coming and going. It’s hard to imagine the heat and humidity could get any more intense, though that is exactly what has happened.
I am extremely excited for adventures to come, more so than any other time of the entire trip.

The Bridge Of The Americas, over The Panama Canal

What might they be?
All will be revealed soon, while impatient readers should checkout this Wikipedia article.

-Dan

Rain comes down in torrents hour after hour and word filters down that the only highway south to Panama has been washed out, so we spend a couple of extra days here, constantly struggling to fit in with the vibe.
On our way down to the border at Sixaoloa / Guabito banana fields stretch in all directions as far as the eye can see.

The line up waiting at a washed out bridge

The actual border is a huge old one lane bridge spanning an enormous river. It really doesn’t look in good enough condition to drive over, though the big trucks are having no problems. On the Costa Rica side we fill out another tourist card, get an exit stamp in our passports and I hand over the paperwork for the Jeep all in about 5 minutes.

Driving over the bridge is kind of a challenge because it’s very narrow and crammed with people walking in both directions carrying their worldly possessions. Every time a person wants to go in the opposing direction I have to stop so they can squeeze by without worry. Immediately in Panama I am directed to park literally in the middle of the road and pay $4 for the usual fumigation. The guy is so intent on doing a good job he sprays a small can inside the Jeep and says not to go in there for ten minutes, making me feel a bit uneasy.

I grab an entrance stamp for myself before getting the Jeep inspected by a military guy who pokes around for a long time, and seems somewhat disappointed when he doesn’t find anything. I walk down a little way and purchase a months worth of mandatory insurance for $15 USD. The guy behind the counter thinks he’s on a winner when he says it’s $30, not realizing I can read the sign in Spanish that clearly says it’s $15.

Questioning everything is becoming a way of life.

Back at customs I exchange copies of the Jeep documents for an official looking piece of paper allowing entry for one month. I have a good look over the form and am satisfied it’s correct before we drive off into country number ten after a very easy border crossing.

-Dan

As soon as Mike hears mention of white water his eyes light up like a crazy man and we quickly find ourselves at Costa Rica Descents, clearly the best outfit in town. The guys are really friendly and down to earth and give us a couple of different options. We can go part-way up the best river in town for a day of class II and III rapids paddling kayaks, or we can jump in a raft to tackle the class IV and V rapids further upstream. We’re really torn on what to do here and finally decide that piloting our own craft is the way to go. Mike has a solid season under his belt and is confident in a small play kayak. I’ve done a lot of flat water paddling in canoes and kayaks, but very little white water and am less confident about the small kayaks. The guides recommend a “ducky”, which is an inflatable kayak they describe as somewhere between a raft and a kayak or a one man raft.

Dan and his trusty little boat

We pile into a mini-bus and set out for the river, nervous and excited at the same time. A couple of other tourists are along and they’ll be in a raft with a guide while two other guides will run safety in kayaks, along with Mike and I. We arrive at the put-in and get a quick briefing on what we should and shouldn’t be doing. I’m told my little craft will treat me fine as long as I keep it straight through the rapids and don’t wrap it around any rocks.

Keep it straight. No Rocks. Sounds simple enough.

Keeping it straight

The water level is controlled by a dam far upstream so we wait around for half an hour for the water level to rise, though I get the feeling it’s just to build the tension in the air. Mike and I opt to walk around the first rapid which doesn’t look very friendly at all and play around for ten minutes in a calmer area getting the hang of things. Our guides are pros, and Mike looks pretty confident in his little kayak, making me feel like the absolute novice in the group.

Mike crusing along

Setting out the guide shouts one final instruction – “Stay close to me, and go exactly where I do.” I’m full of adrenaline and I move into the first set of rapids and very quickly get the hang of things. I learn my little craft can scrape over and bounce off rocks just like a raft. I also learn it can’t maneuver and move across the river like a kayak. In the third set of class III rapids the guide in front of me skillfully moves from river right to left to avoid a series of shallow rocks. Despite my best attempt I find myself going straight down the middle of them and making things up as I go along. I feel amazing when I move along full steam and spot rocks, holes and obstructions and avoid them, all the while grinning like an idiot and paddling my little heart out. Of course I can’t keep it up forever and get stuck right in the middle of some big water & rocks, which turns out not to be a big deal when I wriggle my way off again.

Stoked on that one

We continue in this fashion for what feels like hours, threading around rocks and riding the biggest wave trains the river has to offer. Each one is a new challenge and it’s amazingly exhilarating to be completely in control of my own craft. At the top of a big set our guide laughs hysterically and instructs us – “There’s a huge hole at the bottom of this one – hit it as hard as you can!”. Following instructions yields the desired result as my craft and I almost completely submerge and I just manage to stay right side up and paddle out.

Hitting the hole dead-on as instructed

The only incident of the day comes when Mike grabs the raft during a brief rest break. He’s upstream of it and the current grabs his kayak and pulls him under in a split second. The water is shallow and the raft is literally on top of him, so he can’t roll right side up, causing those in the raft to run around frantically trying to help. He ends up pulling his deck and going for a swim, thankfully only his pride a little dented.

Paddling hard to stay straight

The river mellows a little and moves from mostly III’s to mostly II’s and we have some really fun wave trains to attack and play around in. Our guides also relax a lot and after some encouragement are soon surfing standing waves and trying to spin 360’s off rocks. At the take-out they cut up a watermelon and a couple of the best pineapples I’ve ever had in my life and we eat them right there on the side of the river. They also let it slip they were expecting both of us to swim multiple times, so we’re both bursting with pride at our performance.

Mike looking serious

This is the first time I’ve been in control of my own white water craft and needless to say I’m completely hooked and can’t wait to get out again. The guys at Costa Rica Descents have paddled all over North and Central America and it really shows – they were amazing and I highly recommend them to anyone in the La Fortuna area.

The river crew with fresh fruit

We finish out the day with a soak in the free hot springs just near Tabacón Resort. There is more hot water here than I’ve ever seen, quite literally a rushing river of it, complete with rapids and natural water slide.
This youtube video shows how to find it (easy) and also gives a good idea of just how much hot water there is.

Getting a little wet

Bursting through the waves

-Dan

Hiking up to the peak

A couple of hundred meters further on we find ourselves quite literally on top of the world at 1,916 meters (6,286 ft) and are completely awe-struck by the view. When the clouds part we can see Lake Nicaragua to the North and the Pacific to the West. Close by is the crater of the volcano, which is immense and doesn’t look at all real.

On top of the world at Rincón de la Vieja

We walk a knife-edge trail to the crater rim, and stare in utter disbelief. The first thing to strike us is the color of the water in the crater lake – the strangest milky-white I have ever seen. The next is the far side of the crater wall that has gas loudly hissing out under high pressure from a couple of different places.
It’s hard not to think the earth is alive when confronted with this spectacle on such a grand scale.

From this angle the rock looked like it was floating

There are of course no fences of any kind and while sitting on the rim eating lunch we discuss our chances in the event of even a minor eruption.
Not good, we decide.

The milky-white lake in the crater

A couple of different places list this as one of, if not the, best hikes in Costa Rica and Mike and I throughly agree – the amazing views and alien-like features of the active volcano make this a fantastic hike.

Standing on the edge of the crater

Steam hissing out of the crater on Rincón de la Vieja

Back at the ranger station we take a quick dip in an extremely refreshing swimming hole before setting out on the loop trail, which is full of geothermal activity. We wind our way past all manner of hot springs and steam vents that are bubbling and steaming away in a very aggressive manner. Warning signs say the temperature is between 75°C and 95°C and the couple of places I tentatively test confirm this pretty quickly. The highlight comes in the form of the mud fumaroles, which continuously bubble and gurgle in a very hypnotic manner.

Mesmerising fumarole in the park

Not done for the day, we drive around to the Santa Maria Sector, setup camp for the night for $2 USD and after dinner make the 4km hike to the natural hot springs that are perfect for soaking. The two soaking pools are large, hot, smell very strongly of sulfur and sit beside a beautiful cold stream.

Soaking our weary legs after a huge day of hiking is amazing and we stumble home half asleep a few hours later.

-Dan

We’re not too sure how to find the good stuff without paying through the teeth, when we meet Eric, a cool booking agent. He’s just opened up in the same building as the supermarket and is very happy to tell us about a couple of free hikes & activities around town. It’s really refreshing to have someone so down to earth, who is not trying to get every last penny from us and genuinely wants us to enjoy ourselves. He’s as excited are we are and soon we’re bouncing around ready for adventure.

The hiking road to the cloudforest

Armed with our new knowledge we set out to hike into the cloud forest at the only place in the area this can be done for free. It’s a really steep muddy road that I drive up as far as possible before parking and continuing on foot. Even though it’s much cooler here we are soon sweating like crazy as we climb up and up, right into the clouds. The views from the top are said to be spectacular on a clear day, though we can barely see ten meters through the thick fog which doesn’t diminish the beauty. We move on to the second free hike, and find a massive hollow fig tree that Mike climbs into a long way.

View of the cloudforest

The giant Fig tree that Mike climbed into

Before the day is done we make our way out to the San Luis Waterfall, a beautiful 35 minute walk along a river deep in the jungle. The falls themselves are about 90 meters high (300 ft.) and hugely impressive. Swimming below is freezing, and we grin from ear to ear.

The 90 meter San Luis Waterfall

The main attraction in this area is zipline tours, and with Eric’s help we get a deal on the best outfit in town, eXtremo.
With a name like that how could we possibly pass it up?

We are harnessed, helmeted and harnessed again before being given a 5 minute safety talk. We’ll be connected to cables spanning huge distances and leather gloves are our only brakes. If the guide waves frantically, pull down on the cable, we are told. Simple enough.
Before long we are flying from platform to platform, across huge spans at really high speed. It’s amazingly good fun and everyone is really excited. Braking turns out to be pretty simple and soon I have the technique down; come in at suicidal speed and try to burn through my glove in the last meter or two. Adding a look of complete horror on my face terrifies a couple of the guides whose job it is to ‘catch’ me.

Hanging out in the treetops

The guides take a liking to me and tell me the best way to ride the tarzan swing is backwards, so off I step, completely unable to see where I am going.

Mike about to set out on the zipline

Mike coming in on the zipline

The main event of the day is the “superman” cable where we are harnessed in so we are lying down, superman style. Everyone quickly starts humming the theme song and calls of “Superman!” can be heard echoing all around. The guides let me hold my camera on this one, so I take a video of what it looks like while whizzing along. Really, really fun.

The superman zipline

It’s really hard to judge my speed in the video, so I did some quick numbers; The cable is 1080 meters long and I complete the trip in 54 seconds, making for an average speed of 72 km/h (45 mph).

-Dan

I’ve just had an article published in the Australian Jeep Action Magazine, which I’m really excited about. Below is the finished product in low-resolution. You’ll have to buy a copy of the magazine to read the full article!

Jeep Action Magazine first spread

Jeep Action Magazine second spread

-Dan

The main beach at Tamarindo

When I goto sleep there is only one other tent in the whole campground, and I think I’m dreaming when about fifty people rock up after midnight and have a huge party while setting up their tents, complete with a car stereo at full volume. It turns out a whole village has made the trek to the beach for the weekend and they intend to party pretty hard while here.

The crazy tent city that appeared at Tamarindo

We spend a few nights here, partly because I’m still feeling sick and party because Mike lost his debit card a few days back and is trying to have money wired to the local bank, with little luck. It’s an extremely beautiful place, if not a little busy for my liking.

The sunset over Tamarindo Beach

A 4×4-only dirt track winds down the west coast of the peninsula, possibly called the ‘Monkey Trail’ and is highly recommended by all. We wind our way down to Playa Sámara and quickly realize we’ve found a slice of paradise. The campground is a very laid-back, Rastafarian affair right on the beach and wandering around the town which has one of everything we need and nothing we don’t is great. At night we go to a little community center full of locals to watch a movie sitting on bean-bags & eating popcorn.
It would be easy to stay here for weeks.

Camping right on beautiful Samara beach

We continue south and spend a couple of nights in the Malpais / Santa Teresa area. Here, a beachside road strings together a couple of small towns that have been overrun by surfers riding the powerful swell on the seemingly endless sandy beach. We catch up with Jamie who we met in Nicaragua who has been living in Costa Rica for six months teaching English. She’s been having an awesome time living the local life, which you can read about on her blog: http://rubiatica.blogspot.com/

Overlooking the Nicoya Peninsula

At the very southern end of the peninsula lies The Reserva Natural Absoluta Cabo Blanco, Costa Rica’s oldest protected wilderness area setup in 1963. We pay $10 USD each for entry and set out on a two hour hike to the beach at the southern tip. Walking through the dense jungle and enormous trees we walk right by a family of howler monkeys and spot a couple of brightly colored birds and giant butterflies. The beach is really peaceful and we both take catnaps in the warm shady area.

Hiking through the jungle to Cabo Blanco

These spikey trees are all over the place

We move around to Montezuma, a very popular spot on the coast. It’s a very Rastafarian place and we are offered drugs twice each on the three minute walk to the grocery store. Neither of us quite likes the vibe here, although nothing bad happens.

Scared little crab

We catch up with Jamie again the next day and walk twenty minutes to the amazing Montezuma Waterfalls, where we swim and jump off a low rock. Using Jamie’s local knowledge we walk around and up higher to another waterfall and series of swimming pools which are almost deserted. This second fall turns out to be perfect for jumping off and we all jump multiple times from the 10 meter (35 feet) height before lying around in the sun enjoying the total relaxation.

Winding up for a backflip at Montezuma Waterfall

We move on and hop the ferry across to Puntarenas an the mainland, excited for our next Costa Rican adventure.

The main beach at Montezuma

-Dan

We drive past a huge line of parked trucks that stretches for a few kilometers and stop at a small shack to pay $1 USD for an official exit stamp from Nicaragua. Ten meters away we drive to another shack where the guard gives me a little scrap of paper with the license plate of the Jeep and the date written on the front, then just points at the next building. Pulling in here is where the real chaos begins – there are cars, busses and trucks all over the place, hundreds of people milling about and about fifty guys yelling at me to purchase their assistance. I’ve learnt the trick with these guys is to pretend you are not interested then listen to them while they tell you the next step in the process. When they’ve finished blabbing I politely say “No thanks” and move along. Whenever I’m pondering the next step, another helper materializes, yells the answer at me and I move along without paying a cent.

I find a customs officer wandering around and give him the little scrap of paper. He glances at the Jeep, scribbles his name and walks away to repeat the process for someone else. Next is a policeman who does exactly the same thing, without even seeing the Jeep. I move inside and stand in a line with about ten local guys who are apparently trying to achieve a similar goal. I strike up a conversation with one guy who assures me I’m in the right place and have thus far jumped through the correct hoops in the correct order. I think he’s impressed.

After about twenty minutes of waiting it becomes obvious that waiting in line is not an important concept here, with people pushing in and out of line all over the place. My new friend sees an opening and together we eagerly get to the front of a newly-opened window, shoving our paperwork through. Here, my very official paperwork for the Jeep thrown on a pile and I get a new scribble and even a stamp on my paper scrap, and am pointed to the next line across. The same process is repeated, a scribble and a stamp.

As far as I can tell, the process for the Jeep is complete and now Mike and I have to deal with ourselves. Apparently a couple of tour busses have just pulled in so we wait about 45 minutes in line, fill out a tourist card and pay $2 USD to finally have permission to exit Nicaragua. I still have no idea if my scrap of paper is complete and can’t believe when the border guard barely glances at it before waiving up through. Gotta love bureaucracy.

After all that, we have only left Nicaragua, and must now enter Costa Rica.

Fumigation is first up and I’m surprised when the guy waves me right in without paying. I hope I don’t need a receipt for that later. We park in front of the main immigration building and stand in another huge line to get ourselves into the country. 45 minutes and another tourist card later we are rewarded with a little stamp in our passports. In the room adjacent I pay $15 USD for mandatory car insurance and get a photocopy of my new passport stamp and policy. Just over the road I hand over my paperwork including copies of the registration (title), my passport and drivers license which are all recorded on a piece of paper. A policeman does a cursory inspection of the Jeep and contents, before giving directions to the next building we must go to.

During this whole process a German guy riding a motorbike has been one step behind me, so we’ve been chatting and helping each other out. At this point his debit card doesn’t work and he doesn’t have enough money to purchase insurance, leaving him literally stranded in no mans land between the two countries. With a huge grin I give him $20 and completely change the color of his day. He’s adamant we should stick together until we find a working ATM so he can pay me back, but I’m not fazed at all.
I feel confident that someone will do the same for me if it ever comes to that.

A short drive away I stand in line at a non-descript white building, apparently the last hurdle for the day. Here, all the paperwork I’ve accumulated so far is taken away, typed up and given back to me in the form of a formal-looking document allowing three months entry.

The now common final guards have a look over everything and wave us through into Costa Rica, country number nine…

-Dan

Volcan Conception on Isla De Ometepe

At the ferry terminal all the different taxes, charges and tariffs quickly get confusing and then I go and loose my ticket, so I have to buy another. All told I pay 480 cordobas (about $25 USD) to get myself and the Jeep over to the island and I drive right onto a ferry ready to go. The ride is really rough in high swells whipped up by the wind and I get chatting to a few backpackers who are mostly traveling solo and have randomly met up. They’re pretty stoked to realize the benefits of having a vehicle and we soon find a place to camp out at Hostel Chico Largo for the night right on the side of the lake.

Volcan Conception in the early morning

We move along and checkout Ojo De Agua, a natural spring on the island. After we pay our $2 USD entrance the guy at the gate gives us a huge spiel about the spring and I’m amazed to hear it’s about 25 °C and doesn’t change temperature no matter what the active Volcán Conceptión is doing. I’ve heard some rumors about hot springs on the island, this guy is certain there are none.
It turns out to big a big concrete pool with crystal clear water welling up from the bottom – a bit of a tourist trap but a really nice place all the same.

Ojo de Agua on Isla de Ometepe

We camp at the night at Finca Magdalena, a beautiful organic farm a little way up the side of Volcán Maderas. It’s obvious they get a lot of tourists through here, with a menu entirely in US dollars and the convenience of running a tab.. All the guys in the group are really excited to hike up the volcano in the morning and we ummm and arrr about getting a guide, which is apparently mandatory, though we’re not certain about that. We decide that if we’re careful we won’t have any problems.

The crew setting out to climb Volcan Maderas

Early in the morning the hike starts dry, hot, dusty and steep just as we had thought, but quickly changes into extremely lush wet rainforest and we begin climbing through mud and slippery rocks. This continues for hour after hour and it takes us a full four hours to reach the summit, unfortunately surrounded by very high trees. We descend an extremely steep section down to the lake in the volcano crater, which is stunning to say the least. We had hoped to swim here, though it’s quickly obvious it’s a shallow mud pit which Ben illustrates by sinking past his knees, a feat greeted with roaring laughter.

Lake shoreline

The very steep descent into the crater

We hang out for an hour or so, soaking in the atmosphere and chatting to other hikers before setting out for the return leg. After a while it becomes apparent we’re not on exactly the same trail we came up on, but using the two volcanoes as landmarks we know exactly where we are and decide to continue down. The trail seems much longer and a few hours later we break out into farm land, first passing through open fields with cattle, then banana plantations and more open farmland. We eventually make it down to the road and have a couple of kilometers to hike back around to Magdalena, where we arrive throughly exhausted. A few people snicker at our “getting lost” and one of the ladies says in Spanish we need to learn how to use our brains.
Ouch.

The lake in the crater of Volcan Madera

The beautiful farmland below the volcano

Almost the whole crew moves on the next morning, some heading south for Costa Rica and some moving North. Mike, Simon and I move around to the other side of Maderes and spend another night lakeside, mostly relaxing for the day after our big volcano hike. I’m feeling pretty sick with another stomach bug and am happy for the rest day.

Hiking through a bananna plantation

Isla Ometepe is an amazing place and the peaceful, relaxed way of life is really infectious. A great way to finish up my time in Nicaragua

-Dan

The Leon Cathedral, from 1747

Another beautiful building in Leon

In the morning I make my way to Jan Juan del Sur, arguably the surf capital of Nicaragua. The town itself does not feel like much to me and the bay seems to prevent swell from rolling in so I make my way north on a little gravel road to Playa Madera, which comes highly recommended. Tourists seem also to have heard about this place, arriving twenty at a time on ‘learn to surf’ tours. A few hundred meters further up the beach is Matilda’s, a great campsite right on the beach. I setup here and wind up staying for a few days, enjoying the surf, sun & monkeys that come right into the campground.

I'm looking at you

I meet up with a bunch of different people, all hanging out around the area and am amused how most of the surfers are depressed at the lack of swell for the last few weeks and aren’t much to talk to. I meet a couple of crazy American guys who drink rum like I drink water and so of course we head into San Juan del Sur on Saturday night to see what we can find. It’s not hard to find drunkenness when beers are $1 USD and rum is equally cheap. The Iguana Bar is the place to go and it’s extremely crowded with both gringos and locals. I finally bump into my friend Ty, who’s car I saw in Antigua. He’s had an awesome drive down and his trusty old Subaru had done just fine, minus a couple of broken windows. He’s moving into Costa Rica soon to sell his car and then continue on foot and we’re both certain we’ll see each other again.

Just hanging around

While hanging out one sunny afternoon two motorbikes roll up that are obviously geared up to ride a very long way. Quickly I recognize Adrian who I met in Stewart, Northern British Columbia many months ago. Riding with him is James, who has come down from Toronto in a few short months. We chat for a long time before Adrian has to move on, so James and I continue the conversation for many hours. He’s had an awesome ride down and we swap story after story, discussing everything and nothing at the same time. Checkout his blog at http://tripdown.regioncoding.com/

Playa Madera

Hanging out on the beach is great for a few days and I’m thoroughly ready when it’s time to move on.

The sunset at Playa Madera

-Dan

At the border I have to cancel my Honduran paperwork for the Jeep before exiting the country. The guy at the final check looks in my passport and tells me about four times this is absolutely the last thing in Honduras, and I won’t have anything else to deal with. He slips in that I just have to pay $10 USD and when I ask why and ask for a receipt he instantly bows his head and waves me through. Can’t blame the guy for trying I suppose.

Welcome to Nicaragua

In Nicaragua I walk up to the immigration window and am told I have to pay $7 USD to enter. Again I question this, thinking my CA-4 stamp gives me free travel. Apparently this is not the case, so I pay and move on to more paperwork. I find it amusing the official fee between two countries is in US dollars, considering neither country has that as their official currency.

The paperwork for the Jeep is fairly run of the mill stuff, and thankfully free. It turns out I did have to pay that $7 fee and need my receipt. The police guy does a thorough inspection of the Jeep, making me pull most of the stuff out of the back. I have to exchange my money for the second time today and have no idea what the exchange rate is, having never looked it up. The guy offers me a rate that I barely even listen to before immediately saying I want a better rate. He bumps it a little. I pressure hard and he bumps it a little twice more before walking away, saying that’s the best he can do. OK. I’ll take that.
The border here is extremely quiet and not a single person hassles me or even begs for money. This is my cleanest, quietest, friendliest border crossing yet.

Driving away from immigration some enthusiastic people come up and I have to pay $3 USD for something I don’t entirely understand before they’ll lower a rope and let me pass. The military guy standing right there says it’s legit and they give me a receipt, I think it’s some local municipal tax thing. The guys run their eyes over my paperwork and passport and I’m free to drive into Nicaragua.

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve picked up some horrendous driving habits since crossing the border into Mexico. Road rules simply do not apply down here and more often that not it’s safer to ignore them anyway. I honestly have not even looked at a speed sign in months, couldn’t care less if I’m at a give way or stop sign and completely ignore double lines on the road. Extremely slow vehicles are a common occurrence and I zip around one on the outside of a somewhat blind corner, over double lines, doing about 90 km/h. Two police are at the bottom of the hill and wave me over, looking very official.

After taking my license it becomes obvious they are going to fine me for all of the above, about a $20 USD ticket I’m told. The catch is they are going to hang onto my license while I goto the bank to pay the fine, and they’ll give it back to me when I return. I was absolutely breaking the law and caught red handed, so I’m happy to pay the price. The problem comes when they want me to back-track about an hour to pay the fine, with the sun already very close to the horizon. After talking around the problem for a while we figure out they need some money for gas, so I give them 100 Cordobas ($5 USD), literally everything I have in my wallet. After this they are my best friends, forgetting all about any ticket, giving back my license and they happily give directions to my destination.
Only the second speeding ticket in my life, and I bribed my way out of it.
I like it

It occurs to me that maybe Nicaragua is a little more strict with road rules and I should watch it more than I have been. That lasts for all of about five minutes before I fall right back to my old ways of doing as I please.

I seem to have over-estimated the distance I would cover today and I drive through dusk for quite a while before it’s completely dark. Horses, bicycles and children materialize out of the darkness every couple of minutes, making me work overtime on concentration. I remember why I avoid driving at night now. On the outskirts of Leon I pull in to a gas station and am surprised to see such a familiar sight – it’s extremely clean, bright and even has the requisite junk food & fast food joint attached. The top 100 music in English helps finish the picture.

Finally, at 9:30pm I climb stiffly out of the Jeep, safely parked in front of the Big Foot hostel in Leon, after driving about 500km across three countries in fourteen and a half hours.
A cold shower and beer put me right to sleep.

-Dan

I really am kind of having fun now and the kid knows that he has no chance at all to tell me what he wants. Finally he resorts to blatantly asking me for money, begging for it. He’s so young for a split second I feel like giving it to him, but still continue with my not understanding bit. Eventually he waves me on and in my mirror I see his buddies give him a hard time when he returns empty handed.

The Jeep reading the rules of Honduras

Driving across Honduras was by no means in my plans from the start, though lately it has just felt like the right thing to do. All the books I have read, and the travelers I have spoken to basically say the only reason to go to Honduras is the North Coast, which is only worthwhile if you want to pay to get out in to the Bay Islands. I thought about driving through the heart of the country to check it out, but my books said all of the towns are unsafe after dark and it would have meant a lot of back-tracking. I think it’s a bit of a failure to drive across a country in one go, without even getting out once or meeting a single person.
So be it.

This military bribery routine is repeated twice more, in more or less similar circumstances and always with the same outcome of me being waved through with all my money in my pocket. One guy tries to work the angle of me not having a number plate on the front of the Jeep, another wants to know if I have a jack. One of the stops has more of an official air about it and the guy very politely asks to see all my documentation, asks a few quick questions about my origin and destination and waves me through in less than 30 seconds. I gather this is the “authorized” checkpoint and the others are just military guys doing what they want. It’s extremely hot, dry & dusty here reminding me a lot of Mexico and the thermometer hanging in the Jeep holds at 40 °C (100 °F) for the entire day.

I turn off the main highway, aiming for the border crossing at El Espino and am immediately happy about my decision. The Pan American Highway here is excellent and has almost zero traffic, the convoy of enormous trucks having continued on to the much busier border crossing at Gausaule. The road immediately begins to climb and for 45 minutes I drive up a very impressive windy mountain road, without a single military checkpoint in sight. I thoroughly enjoy this part of Honduras, and briefly think about spending a night somewhere, though no hotels present themselves.

The beautiful mountains of Honduras

I roll up to the Nicaraguan border about 2 hours after I entered Honduras and am so surprised by what I find I have to ask someone if this is the actual border. It’s very clean and quiet and not a single person hassles me. I’m really happy I came up to this border, probably the nicest I have seen yet.

Back towards Honduras at the El Espino border to Nicaragua

Here I go, aiming for country number three in a single day…

-Dan

I drive way up into the mountains in El Salvador to the town of Perquin, where the government opposition force, the FMLN had their headquarters. The town itself is not much to look at, and with the help of an American in the peace core I manage to find a beautiful campsite on the side of the Rio Sapo, which has amazing swimming beaches and rock pools.

The beautiful Rio Sapo

I’m up early the next morning anticipating a big day of travel – just how big it would turn out to be I have no idea. I stop for gas before the Honduran border and the attendants love the map on the hood and we strike up a great conversation. I’ve heard all sorts of horror stories about the military trying to bribe tourists in Honduras, including Rupert who ended up in handcuffs. The guys here tell me the two most common scams are asking you if you have a fire extinguisher and a safety triangle to put on the road in case of an emergency. When you fail to produce them they bribe some money out of you on the threat of arresting you or impounding your vehicle. The gas station immediately before the border sells both and for $16 USD I splash out and purchase them in the hope of avoiding some conflict throughout the day. I actually wanted a fire extinguisher from day one, so it’s about time I got one and the triangle is kind of fun to play with for about 3 seconds.

Camping in the mountains of El Salvador, by the Rio Sapo

Even at the gas station guys are trying to “assist” me with the crossing, saying it will take hours without their help and only 20 minutes with. I repeat “no thanks” about a hundred times. Driving up to the El Amatillo border I pass a very long ling of trucks waiting for inspection and pull over at the little shack to cancel my El Salvadorian Jeep paperwork. I need a copy of a form and as usual, an enterprising person has set up a stand with a photocopier just where it’s needed. The guy seems pretty proud of being able to charge the exorbitant fee of 5 cents a copy.

Moving along I arrive at the actual border, where I park and start the process. For unknown reasons the immigration guy spends quite a while typing in my info to the computer and clicking around just so I can leave El Sal. Then a guy wearing a uniform and with ID says I have to pay $3 USD to enter Honduras and he’ll give me a semi-official looking receipt. I don’t really believe him, thinking that the CA-4 stamp in my passport gives me free travel between Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua. Knowing I’m going to spend most of the day arguing with people trying to take my money and that fact that it’s only $3 makes me pay it so I can move on.

I leave El Sal no problems, drive over a bridge and find myself in a dry, dusty, shady-looking town that is Honduras. Everyone says immigration is immediately on my right, which I don’t see and eventually circle back around and get directions into an unsigned plain white office building. Realizing I’ll have to spend a long time inside away from the Jeep I walk straight over to the security guard with the pump-action shotgun and ask him to keep an eye on things for some cash, to which he happily agrees.

The paperwork trail begins and I almost fall over when the guy asks for the receipt for the $3 I paid earlier – apparently that thing was legit and I really was supposed to pay it. I’m glad I didn’t argue for too long.
Before all is said and done, the following papers are shuffled.

• 3 copies of my passport main photo page
• 3 copies of the registration for the Jeep
• 3 copies of my drivers license
• 3 copies of receipt number one that I pay 135 Lempiras ($7 USD) at the bank
• 3 copies of receipt number two that I pay 500.72 Lempiras ($26 USD) at the bank
• 3 more copies of my passport, with a new stamp and the $3 USD receipt from earlier

A very brief inspection of the Jeep follows, I receive a very official-looking piece of paper and I’m free to move along, which I do eagerly.

Literally a hundred meters down the road three military guys wave me down, which is not unusual this close to the border. I intentionally stop in the driving lane, don’t kill the engine and don’t get out. In the first three seconds the guy wants my license and once he has it demands to see my fire extinguisher. I smugly produce it, still in it’s box and with price sticker clearly visible. Not to be deterred he quickly asks for my triangle, which I once again get out, still in it’s box, price sticker front and centre. He quickly pulls it out and is very happy to announce that I in fact need two of them, and one is not good enough. I decide to play another card and start replying to everything with “No entiendo” (I don’t understand) He goes on a rambling tale for five minutes about how I must have two triangles and I’ll have to goto the nearby bank to get money to give to him for the fine. I interject every sentence or two with more “No entiendo” and my best blank-trying-hard-to-understand look.

He starts to get frustrated and walks off with my license to consult his cohorts. He returns and asks if it’s a copy, saying he needs the original, to which I again reply many times with “No entiendo”, all the while smiling and trying my absolute best to understand. The three of them inspect my license very carefully and can clearly tell it’s a copy, but don’t seem to be able to make me understand that A truck is now blocking the only other lane, so we have a lot of traffic backing up behind us, which is too much for them so they give me back the copy of my license and don’t look at me again as they eagerly move to the next customer.

Another couple of hundred meters down the road I’m stopped again by a friendly guy who wants to see my shiny new paperwork for the Jeep. He needs a copy for his records, which I don’t have. I have three copies of the receipts and many more of all my other documents, but not a copy of the one he needs. I have no choice but to turn around, get stuck in the traffic trying to leave Honduras, get another couple of copies made and come back. As I drive past my military friends I intentionally don’t look at them and have no idea if they tried to wave me down or not.

I hand over the new copy and the guy waves me through, finally free to enter Honduras…

-Dan

I meet a truck with some locals who tell me there is no way to get in from where I am and I’ve gone completely the wrong way. Hmm. I backtrack a long way and spend the night in a nondescript hotel near the town of Ahuachapán. My level of tiredness, hunger, my inability to communicate in Spanish and a long day leaves me feeling really lonely and a bit lost. Probably the loneliest I have felt for the whole trip.
I start to wonder what I’m doing with my life.

I feel much better after a good nights sleep and move along the Ruta del las Flores, a very famous mountain road in El Salvador that is fairly nice. El Salvador uses the US dollar as it’s national currency and things are absurdly cheap, probably owing to the $1.10 minimum wage.

The minute I pull into the Surfers Inn in Playa El Sunzal I know I’ve found a great place. Camping is $2.50 for a night, a big meal of pupusas which are kind of sealed over taco is $1.35 and cold beers are $1. There are a few surfers hanging around, some who have been living here for months and months they love it so much. A hundred meters away is the beautiful beach which has a great point break that rolls into the sandy beach.

The main beach at Playa El Sunzal

I stay for just over a week, attempting to surf, swimming, hanging out with all the guys and eating really well and exercising every day on the beach at sunrise. I also pay $125 for 20 hours of one-on-one Spanish lessons which help immensely. The guy really knows his stuff and we cover an insane amount of material. That’s not to say it all stuck in my head, but with practice over the coming months I really hope to get around a lot better.

Camping at the Surfers Inn

-Dan

I move south east to a small border crossing near the small town of Valle Nuevo. I park a couple of hundred meters before the main building on the Guatemalan side and about ten men literally run at me and surround the Jeep. I’m not entirely sure what is going on and when they ask for my passport and vehicle paperwork I am more than a little cautious. They are not wearing any kind of uniform and look like a pretty rag-tag bunch, so after carefully exchanging my money with them I do my best to ignore them, although they won’t leave me alone.

I drive down and park right in front of the building where I can clearly see the Jeep and ask the first uniformed guard I see for some guidance. One of my followers keeps pestering us and won’t leave me alone until I finally tell him to shut up and kindly ask the armed guard to continue. The guard tells me exactly where I need to go and I get the paperwork for the Jeep cancelled and move on.

I remember hearing stories about the kind of people that were pestering me – they try to get a person’s paperwork and ‘assist’ them to cross the border. All of this for an outrageous fee. My thoughts about this are confirmed when they realize I am not going to take the bait – they immediately move over to the next car and bus pulling in to see if they can hook a prize. I’m happy I handled it the way I did, and will have to remember it for the future as I’m sure it’s going to happen over and over again.

I cross a bridge over a deep valley and officially enter El Salvador. Filling in my own paperwork for the Jeep in Spanish is a little strange, apparently because the official there couldn’t be bothered doing it. I have to walk a hundred meters down to customs, where the guard tells me to walk around to immigration. Immigration, on the other side of the building, tells me they don’t need to see me and I should go somewhere else. Where that might be I have no idea. I walk around the building again and the same guard as earlier lets me in, where all my paperwork is typed onto the computer and I’m given the official paperwork for three months of entry for the Jeep. My CA-4 stamp in my passport means I personally enter free, and the Jeep costs nothing here as well.

Fifty meters down the road I am stopped one last time for a final paperwork inspection and then I am given the all clear to move off into El Salvador.

What’s next? I have no idea.

-Dan

Apparently the explosion level is "normal"

We get picked up from our ‘hotel’ at two in the afternoon and settle into the mini-van for an hour and a half drive out to the volcano. The last half an hour or so we do some serious climbing and are all pretty happy to pile out, ready to hike. Immediately we are swamped by small children trying to sell us all sorts of things we don’t need. A few people in our group succumb and buy walking sticks after the children repeat “is necessary” about 250 times each.

Volcán Pacaya smoking away

We start walking up the steep dusty path and the enthusiasm of the group drops as the realization of the difficult hike sets in. I’m in my element here and love every minute of it, rushing to the front to talk to people, then slowing down and chatting to others further back. The hiking changes from hot, dry and dusty to small volcanic pebbles then huge volcanic boulders with razor sharp bits all over. We quickly climb above the cloud level and are treated to an amazing view of Volcán Fuego (Fire), which can be seen from Antigua and spits out a huge smoke cloud every couple of hours.

Kate & Dan with Volcán Pacaya smoking in the background

The hiking turns into a rock scramble and then a very congested rock scramble as about sixty or so tourists try to make their way to the top. I’m uncomfortable to have so many hikers on the extremely unstable rocks that are constantly being kicked down to rain on those below. As we near the action the rocks under us begin to get hotter and hotter, to the point where I don’t want to use my hands for balance anymore and I’m sweating profusely. Occasionally a strong sulphur smell wafts past, adding to the general excitement. I stop and have a good look up and see heat haze pouring off the mountain all around me. A guide points to some funny colored rocks I’m standing on and says they were lava last week. Cooooool.

The congested steep rock scramble

I reach a point where lots of people are milling around and am stunned to see lava less than four meters away. I climb up on a high point and am then about three meters away from the small flow that is slowly sliding down the mountainside. The heat pouring off is immense and when the wind changes it’s overwhelming on my legs and face and I really don’t want to hang around for too long, especially with thirty or forty more people still climbing up.

The flowing lava was moving a foot every 10 seconds or so

I move down to a lower vantage point which turns out to be an amazingly good idea as more and more people pack onto the extremely hot, uneven rocky surface. A couple of times people slip and panic trying to get away from the heat and have nowhere to go because of all the people – not a good scene at all.

Dan loving the lava flow

I stand around on my little platform chatting to various people and roasting marshmallows.
Yep, you read that right.
I roasted marshmallows on lava.
From where I was standing I could poke a marshmallow on a stick through some cracks towards the lava. It only took a few seconds to have it roasted to perfection & I honestly think they were the best marshmallows I’ve ever eaten. I wonder if I’ll ever go back to regular old flame roasted.

A few of the guys standing around with me are only wearing very thin-soled shoes and they melt and stick to the rocks, making for some pretty anxious faces and a nasty melted plastic smell. As the sun dips below the horizon the sunset is spectacular and the visible lava increases ten fold in the dusk. The majority of people make their way down and I stay to milk the experience for every second, knowing I can get down pretty fast when I want to.

A group of people have gone about ten meters further than the rest and upon hearing a report I know I have to check it out. I make my way further up, through a really hot section were between every rock I step on is red hot lava, a freaky experience. At the top is a good standing area where the temperature is bearable and we’re only about 2 meters from the flow of lava, which is significantly more here.

Getting close now...

I stand and stare in awe at the liquid rock. It really is amazing and hard to comprehend.

There was a lot here and it was really moving

I’m really curious about the consistency of the lava and so I throw a few rocks in to see what happens. It turns out it has a reasonably hard invisible shell and the rocks mostly bounce off or kind of sit on top for a while. Marshmallows and sticks turn to flame instantly upon contact.

Lava all around us

I stay for as long as possible, and in the quickly fading light the lava really comes alive, glowing bright red all around us. I could easily stay up here all night, but my group is far ahead of me, so I make quick time on the way down to catch them up.

Sunset above cloud level

Volcán Fuego spitting out smoke

Hiking up Volcán Pacaya is a really amazing experience and I’m still grinning like mad thinking about it.

Volcán Pacaya glowing in the dark

-Dan

Driving through the mountains of Guatemala

We make excellent time and having Kate to navigate across the top of Guatemala City helps immensely. After a quick lunch break in the big city we move on and roll into Antigua in the early afternoon. We heard about free camping in the Tourist Police compound in the middle of the city, so we head straight there and make it our home for a few days. It’s nice to know we have armed guards patrolling our free campground
I’m really surprised to see Tyler’s beat-up Subaru sitting in the lot and I’m told he’s around the city somewhere. I haven’t seen Tyler since La Manzanilla in Mexico months ago.

Our free campsite in downtown Antigua

Our campground is right next to the main market so we wander over there to buy a few odds and ends we both need. We start out on the outskirts looking through all the junky stores before moving into the middle and getting throughly lost in the endless identical fruit and vegetable stands. The Mercado De Artesanias, a market just for local artists, is right next door and Kate’s eyes light up as she almost runs from store to store perusing the goodies on offer. I’m pretty sure she buys two of everything, to the point that she has to buy another bag to carry it all home.

Kate going crazy in the markets of Antigua

I’ve heard the Cerro De La Cruz, a lookout above the city is really worthwhile and our guidebooks say it’s not safe to go without a free Police escort. I end up climbing on the back of a motorbike with a Policeman and we zip across the city and up the mountain. The lookout is pretty good, and the ride up and down make it great fun.

The view from Cerro De La Cruz

In the compound are quite a few “overlanders” – people driving across continents like myself. I’ve been meeting quite a few lately and have been thinking a lot about vehicle choices. On one hand there are people that are totally dedicated to their chosen vehicle and have enough spares and knowhow to go around the world ten times. Others are driving vehicles they barely know the name of and carry no spares or tools at all – they rely completely on local mechanics. I like to think I fall in the middle somewhere and it’s really fun to see how everyone is doing it differently.

The city of Antigua, surrounded by volcanoes

Here in Guatemala American made vehicles have become exceedingly rare and have been replaced by makes and models I have almost forgotten about since leaving Australia. Everywhere I look I see Toyota Landcruisers & Hiluxes, Mitsubishi Pajeros & Mondeos, Range Rovers & tough looking Mercedes off-road machines. Almost all are diesel.
I’m told the further south I drive the rarer American cars will become.

The steets are full of character

We really enjoy wandering around the streets of Antigua, poking into stores and eating cheap meals. We’re in a bookstore when we feel an earthquake strong enough to make everything in the store sway and rattle for a solid five seconds. A few people mill about in the street afterward, then resume their daily lives.

The markets of Antigua are full of colours

-Dan

Our first stop for the day is the Kan’Ba Cave system, which quite literally goes straight into the side of a mountain. Our guide ties our flip-flops to our feet with string(!), hands us a candle each, and leads the way into the cave.
Note the lack of hard hats, lights or safety harnesses.
Only twenty steps in the Goonies jokes are flying, with Ben letting out a huge “Hey, you guys!” that has us all in hysterics distracting us from the increasing darkness and shin deep water we are walking through. I can’t believe how quickly the light disappears until we are completely enveloped in inky blackness, the only light coming from out flickering candles. We continue in this fashion for a hundred meters or so, passing cool cave formations and walking through a few places where the cave is only two meters wide and the water is up to my waist.

Yep, it's pretty dark

In these early stages we use a series of ladders to navigate around a tunnel where water is ripping through, and I climb a few vertical meters up a waterfall using a rope (most people go around). We get to a spot where our guide climbs up the wall and jumps a couple of meters down into a deep pool, and a few of us copy suit. He shows us a place where you can swim down about a meter and a half, slide between some very tight, sharp rocks and come up on the other side of a rock formation, staying underwater for at least 15 or 20 seconds. I wedge myself in the space  with my head above water to see what it feels like and immediately feel uncomfortable and scared.

No. Way.

The roof is pretty low... (imagine no flash)

We continue further and further and come to a series of sections that are too deep to walk. One at a time we plunge in, half swimming and half treading water with one hand while trying to keep our candles out of the water with the other. The stakes go up a little when out guide loses his lighter, meaning we’ll be in the dark if all our candles go out. We go in about 450 meters, which is as far as tourists are allowed – the cave system continues for 11 kilometers. For the finale we get to a section where the stalactites are literally touching the water and we have to go under for just a second to get through. It’s pretty funny two minutes later when we find out we could have just walked around that section

And now we swim... (imagine no flash)

The highlight on the way out is going down the tunnel with rushing water we avoided on the way in. I go first and the guide carefully shows me where to sit and put my hands and feet. When I pop out at the bottom I’m in complete darkness, my candle having been underwater during the trip. It feels really strange to be in a room with no idea what is around me, and I blindly feel around and guess where to sit to help the next person down.

At times we held our breath to get under the roof

Everyone is pretty happy when we see daylight and step out into the warm sun.

Next up is a huge rope swing into the fast flowing Rio Cahabón. It’s a little different than what I’m used to because it has two ropes with a plank of wood in between forming a seat. Getting out of the seat when you are about five meters about the river is a little strange and one of our group lands on her side, making a huge red welt.

The beautiful Rio Cahabón we played on for the day

We walk upstream a few hundred meters to a raging waterfall, and the guide and I swim over to check it out. The very vast majority of the river water is flowing underground, under the waterfall and the guide and I walk into the massive caverns with seriously raging water down below. We climb around to the top of the waterfall and I have such a great time jumping off the 8 meters (25 ft.) I climb up and do it again

Jumping off about 8 meters (25 ft.)

We float back downstream on inner-tubes through some rapids, trying to have a water fight the entire time. We load back into the truck and drive around to Semuc Champy itself for the main attraction. A 35 minute hike gives us an amazing view of the pools below, which we swim in for about an hour. These pools are on the top of the waterfall I jumped off earlier – the pool water goes over the falls and we go and have a look upstream where the majority of water goes underground. Wow.

The amazing pools at Semuc Champy

The water is amazingly clear

Hanging out of the truck on the way back is immensely fun again, this time everyone is laughing and enjoying themselves, not just me. Again I put in a strong showing at the buffet dinner after such a huge day.

Swimming/lazing in the sunshine is amazing

The beautiful pools are everywhere

Guatemala is awesome.

-Dan

The tree house at Finca Ixobel

In the morning the drizzling rain continues and we move along and find El Paraiso, a hot spring waterfall close to the shores of Lago de Izabal. After checking out the area we find great camping at Finca El Paraiso, with the tent about five meters from the water and then head back for a soak.

The road to El Paraiso

I’m told the water is around 70 °C, which flows down a narrow little stream and cascades over a waterfall about five meters high. The spring water is obviously high in dissolved minerals, as the falls are coated in orange and yellow deposits, forming textured surfaces and even little stalactites. At the base of the waterfall is a beautiful clear river, with a couple of really deep pools ideal for swimming.
There is a lot more hot water here than any spring I have ever seen, and I go crazy exploring the whole area while normal people soak.

The hotspring waterfall at El Paraiso

Looking downstream into the jungle

We soak for an hour and a half in the evening and again first thing in the morning when we have the entire place to ourselves for a while. The guys working here do a really good job of keeping the place safe and spotless and we’re more than happy to pay just over $1 USD each for entry.

Kate at El Paraiso

Dan & Kate in the hot waterfall

On the way out we make a brief stop in the market lining the main street of Rio Dulce, which has the claim to fame of having the longest bridge in Central America. The market is bustling and we buy enough extremely fresh fruit and vegetables to last many meals for $3 USD. Unreal.

Enjoying the spray

We had the place all to ourselves in the morning

Kate brought two travel guides along and somehow the maps in those books and the road map I have from Mexico all disagree with each other more often than not. We choose our route and quickly find ourselves on one of the worst gravel roads I have ever driven on, rarely getting out of first gear. This road is actually marked as a major highway on my road map so we wonder if this is what Guatemalans call a major road, or if a map printed in Mexico in useless for Guatemala. Locals drive up and down and when I stop to ask what conditions are like ahead I’m told “It’s fine, just like this”. The mud and potholes continue for hour after hour, to the point where it’s really not funny anymore. In six hours we cover 90 km for an average of 15km/h. Ouch.

We make it out to civilization and find ourselves on an extremely good sealed highway leading right up into the heart of the breathtaking mountains. Before long we are once again bouncing our way along a tiny dirt track, this time stuck to the side of mountains. Dusk comes and goes, as does Kate’s patience for the day of horrible roads. Hours later when we expect to be at our destination we pass a sign saying it’s another 12km, and it turns out to be so steep I use low-range 4×4 on the downhill sections to control my speed.

Driving through the Guatemalan mountains

When we finally make it into town we’re both too tired to navigate and a very kind local man shows us the way by having us follow him on his moped. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more thankful. We fall out of the Jeep at the hostel El Retiro in Lanquin, right in the heart of the mountains. We’re just in time for the buffet dinner and are both stunned to find about 50 backpackers milling around the dining area. I once again do my best to make sure no food is wasted before putting myself to bed early after an exhausting day of driving.

I smile while thinking about the adventures to come tomorrow for about 10 seconds before falling sound asleep.

-Dan

Sunset over the temples was spectacular

The city here began around 700 BC and peaked in around 550 AD with a population estimated at 100,000. The city collapsed quite quickly around 900 AD, which our guide thought was from a food shortage caused by over-farming the land. It remained ‘undiscovered’ until 1848 and scientists first worked on the site in 1881. Amazingly most of the exploration and restoration was carried out by The University of Pennsylvania, where quite a few of the original artifacts remain today.

Waiting for the sunrise over the jungle

Another grand temple

The ruins are so immense one could wander for an entire day and not see everything, let alone understand half of it so for the first time we splash out and set up a guided tour for the morning. We’re up at 5:30am and catch a bus-like thing to the far side of the ruins, to the tallest temple (61 meters) which is the best for watching sunrises. We sit quietly in the chill morning air and while the cloud cover hides the actual sun itself, a couple of monkeys come over really close to us and we can hear numerous howler monkeys nearby. To imagine what they sound like, think of cross between a dog howling and barking, but with the raspiest, sore through imaginable and make it loud. Really loud. The noise is so loud and unexpected I did not believe it was coming from a monkey until I saw it with my own eyes.

The houses of importatnt people

Views like this presented themselves in all directions

Our tour guide is excellent and was clearly very proud of his native heritage, and of being Guatemalan. We walk around the ruins for three hours, stopping at all the major temples and carvings which are too beautiful and numerous for words.

Perched on a hillside in dense jungle

Many of the ruins have been left un restored

Our guide coaxes a female tarantula from it’s burrow and I eagerly volunteer to hold it in my hand. For it’s size it is surprisingly light (essentially nothing) and it didn’t bother me until it started walking up my arm, at which time I was happy to be rid of it.

What a friendly little tarantula!

One of the big temples in the Grand Plaza

Walking around we see quite a few spider monkeys in the trees and the highlight comes when our guide pauses and says “Hey, watch this.” He knows which way they like to go, and the only way across is to leap from one tree to another, clearing a gap of about 2-3 meters about 5 meters off the ground. The little baby goes first and then mum follows, both with no difficulty at all.

We climbed to the top for an amazing view

The Grand Plaza at Tikal

We move on from Tikal in the early afternoon, passing through the touristy island of Flores, which appears to be one giant unsigned one way street. I drive for quite a while in the wrong direction and nobody seems to care. We poke into all the little tourist shops which Kate loves and sit down for lunch where I have my first Guatemalan coffee. It’s so good I’ll have to be careful not to drink too much.

Looking across The Grand Plaza

-Dan

At the Guatemalan border we pay a $BZ 37.50 ($USD 18.75) departure tax and I have to walk around to customs to have the special stamp in my passport canceled without a problem. On the Guatemalan side I once again pay for fumigation of the Jeep, and make sure I get a receipt for my $3 USD. We stand in line and get our CA-4 stamp that allows free travel between Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua for 90 days. The border official says we must pay 20 Quetzales (about $USD 2.50) each for our entrance, which we know is not true. I smile and politely ask for a receipt, which amazingly he can not give us. This stand off goes on for a few minutes while the line grows longer and longer behind us, with me all the while asking politely for a receipt. He finally hands out passports to his supervisor who scowls sternly at us before giving them back and sending us on our way.
I’m learning.

Kate and the Jeep in Guatemala!

I move to another line to deal with the Jeep paperwork, and 20 minutes and 40 Quetzales ($USD 5) later we are on our way with a new shiny sticker on the windscreen. We haggle with the money exchangers for quite a while until we get a rate we are happy with and dump all of our Belize dollars and some Pesos I am still holding. Immediately away from the border we drive over a bridge and a young lady comes out demanding payment for our passage. Watching all the other cars drive over un-molested I feel like we’re being scammed, but she is wearing a uniform and we do get a receipt for our money.

Towards the border from the Guatemalan side

As I drive into Guatemala, country number five, I feel an excitement I have not felt before – I feel like I’m really into this adventure and loving every minute!

Random lake we stopped at just into Guatemala

-Dan

The road in through the dense jungle

This palm tree looked a thousand years old

We find Barton Creek Outpost without much trouble and can’t believe the paradise we have stumbled into. About five years ago an American couple built this cabin on steroids out in the jungle to get away from it all. They now host backpackers and volunteers for the company it provides. It continues to pour rain long into the night and thankfully we pitch our tent on the covered veranda. As the sun recedes the temperature drops fast and soon I find myself shivering uncontrollably so I dig out all my thermals and -7°C sleeping bag that I put away long ago. It turns out to be by far the coldest night I’ve had since I was snowed on in Yellowstone months ago.

Barton Creek Outpost, right on the water

The river looked ancient

In the morning the rain has stopped and we set out in the Jeep with Mike and Laura, a couple of british backpackers to find a couple of remote waterfalls in the area. We spend most of the day on reasonable gravel roads, with the occasional mud hole or rock scramble to keep things interesting. We pop out at the view point to Thousand-Foot Falls and realize we are literally on top of a beautiful mountain range, with stunning views in all directions. The falls themselves are awesome due to the recent heavy rain and are actually over 1600ft (480m), making them the highest in Central America. After a ton of bushwhacking and aimless wandering and almost-giving-up we find Big Rock Falls, which are less spectacular but fun because we can get so close.

Big Rock Falls

Barton Creek Outpost is so great we spend another night camped on the deck, soaking in the serenity.

Trying to be friendly & I lost a chunk of my finger

The "cabin" at Barton Creek Outpost

-Dan

We spend a couple of hours wandering around taking it all in, sharing the entire zoo with maybe ten other visitors. It’s a really special place so I’ll let the photos do the talking.

Spider Monkey swinging through the trees

I'm happy about the fence keeping the Puma at bay

I've never seen anything like a Tapir

These parrots are amazingly bright

The Ocelot was taking a nap

The tucans were really cool

That would be a jaguar asleep in a tree

By far the biggest bird I have ever seen

A great quote

-Dan

The zips on the rear window of the soft top have been acting up since I hit major dirt & mud in Alaska and I’ve been ignoring it as much as possible, kind of pretending it’s not there and hoping it would just go away. Yesterday one side gave out completely, not closing at all and jamming badly no matter how hard I tried to make it work. A close inspection shows both sides are worn down to the point of looking like flat plastic instead of zipper teeth.

The phone book yields only one auto upholsterer, so I set out in the pouring rain trying to navigate the city with a cheesy tourist map that has pretty pictures of animals and a smiling sun in the top corner. I quickly figure out that everyone in the shop is a Jeep enthusiast (Jeeper) and everybody either owns one, or has done at some point. The main guy has replaced many such problem zips and assures me he can have it as good as new. I shoot out quickly to buy the actual zip needed and upon my return the guys move all the furniture out of the showroom and I drive right up in there to escape the still pouring rain.

The Jeep all naked

In five minutes flat I have the entire roof off which disappears out the back to be repaired. I take the opportunity to clean and re-organize while it’s so easy to reach inside and move everything about. Everyone in the shop is really excited to hear about my trip and can’t stop admiring the map on the hood. I take out my paint and update my moving yellow line and they almost fall over to see my just painting it like that

The new zip doesn’t take long to install and we put everything back together in no time. It’s a very heavy duty zip which doesn’t go around the corners so well, but the guy assures me it won’t give any trouble for at least ten years and my assessment is that it’s about ten thousand times better than a zip that doesn’t close. All up it costs me about $75 USD and I’m really happy to have everything working 100% again. While we’re on the topic of Jeep repairs I forgot to mention a week back one headlight went out, so I changed it with my spare and bought a new one that same day.

The city itself is not very nice and we almost feel like prisoners in our hotel, hiding from the bad guys on the outside of the impressively tall perpetually locked gate. My advice to anyone coming to Belize is to give the city a miss, there really is no reason at all to come here.

-Dan

This crew of leaf-cutter ants was moving across a road

We get moving the next morning and I throughly enjoy learning about a new country. Belize uses miles per hour and gallons for gasoline, so apparently they have not switched to metric. Also the Belize Dollar is artificially fixed at 2 to 1 to the US Dollar, which I had no idea about. After being in Mexico for two months I’m a little shocked at the prices which are much close to the US and Canada, it’s obvious this is not going to be a cheap country. I drive for about an hour without seeing a single road sign of any kind, and asking for directions yields the thickest Jamaican-like accent I have ever heard.

The main boardwalk at Crooked Tree

Our first stop is at Crooked Tree Wildlife Sanctuary, an extremely peaceful place where the local community is living in a sustainable way. While we are having lunch the park ranger guys wander over and we chat for a long time about a whole range of topics. Both of us immensely enjoy this ability to just sit around feeling very safe and chat about life. We wander around the sanctuary for a couple of hours, enjoying the peace and quiet while spotting tons birds.

So beautiful

We move along and find the Bermudian Landing Community Baboon Sanctuary, a small town that has lived in harmony with a thriving population of howler monkeys for generations. The visitors centre has just closed so we drive around kind of aimlessly looking for a place to stay. We end up at a tour company run by a funny guy named Shane. He charges us next to nothing for camping and before long we a sitting down to a delicious meal cooked by his grandmother enjoyed with some mango wine we bought from a guy with a stall on the side of the highway.

The lush jungle near Shane's place

We wake to very heavy rain and so the tent and some of the things inside are completely soaked and covered in mud. Not to be deterred we set out on Shane’s wilderness tour and are amazed to find a family of howler monkeys in a tree less than 30 meters from our tent. The really heavy rain seems to dampen their spirits a little no matter how hard Shane tries he can not get them to come down to him. We wander around in the jungle for a while learning about all the plants and trees before calling it quits. Just when we are about to leave Shane coaxes a couple of the younger monkeys all the way down to him. Kate holds out a small piece of banana and the smallest of them all comes down, tugs her hand closer and eats right out of it. It’s an amazing experience, although I’m not sure how I feel about feeding wild animals.
Shane assures me there is no dependance or habit forming behavior. Hmmm.

Kate and the little howler monkey

Kate is quite sick and we’re both cold, wet and tired as we set out for Belize City.

A howler monkey hiding from the rain

-Dan

Here are links to all the updated articles to make them easy to find:

• Teaching English: more detailed stories & a ton of photos

• Palenque & Chiapas: tons of great pictures

• Cancun & Isla Mujeres : beautiful beaches and snorkeling

• Around Tulum: photos from ruins and cenote snorkeling

• Into Belize: much more detailed story about border crossing

I have so much more to type up and share with you guys in the coming weeks…

-Dan

My poor little Dell Mini 9 after taking a tumble on the concrete

I bought a screen off eBay for all of $20 USD and had my Dad send it down here to me just after I broke it. Customs wanted to hold the package until I came down and paid some taxes, so off to the big city we venture. A lot of government paperwork and back-and-forth and a $4 USD tax later, I have the new screen in my hot little hands.

I don’t exactly know how to pull the laptop apart, so I just un-screw everything I can see, and slowly progress until I’ve got the thing in quite a few pieces. The new screen was an identical copy of the original, and about an hour later I have everything back together and working perfectly.

Where did I put that piece again?

Can you believe not a a single screw left over?

One happy Dan to have a working laptop again

A huge thanks to my Dad for sending the screen, and Kate and Nick for trying hard to get one here a few weeks back, that missed the plane by one day.

We just dumped over 1000 photos from our three cameras and over the next couple of weeks I’m going to go back through the last month worth of articles and fix them up with complete stories and photos.
I’m also going to throw some links to the updated articles on the front page so it will be easier for you to find them.

Things are about to get a lot better around here.

-Dan

Lunch in Chetumal

Moving south we come across the border much sooner than I had thought. A very official looking guy in a shirt and tie directs me to pull over and informs me I must purchase car insurance before entering Belize, as it’s required by law. I get a bit flustered and hand over my registration and drivers licence only to watch him walk away with them. I really don’t understand much of what just happened and wish I asked more questions before handing over my paperwork. Of course they are both only copies, but in the next ten minutes my mind goes through all the sinister things he could be doing with my paperwork – like transfering ownership or any one of two hundred other things.

With this going on, we have to line up to get a stamp in our passports from Mexican customs. The extremely scruffy guy sitting in the little shack makes Kate pay 100 pesos (less than $10 USD) and wants me to pay 262 pesos (around $20 USD). When I had over 500 pesos, he throws it on an enormous stack of bills and simply gives me 250 in change – not even the right amount for the price he quoted me. We have no idea why we had to pay this money and receive no receipt. As we sit for a few more minutes we notice it’s only the tourists stopping to pay – everyone else is just going across. I think we got scammed. Scratch that, I’m certain we got scammed.

Waiting for my paperwork to return...

Finally the insurance man comes back and has some paperwork he wants me to sign. After sitting and thinking for a while I’ve finally got my head on straight and spend a long time reading everything even though he is urging me the entire time to sign as quickly as possible. Before I sign I ask about the price and he spits out a really high number in pesos, even though the price is clearly written on the insurance policy in Belize dollars. We argue for quite a while about the exchange rate before he decides to cut the price in half. When I react badly to that, he says “How much do you want to pay?”. I was already suspicious of this guy before, now it’s gone too far. I don’t like that he has paperwork with my name, license number and the VIN number of my Jeep and so right infront of him I tear up the policy into to tiny little pieces. The guy flips out and says he’s going to make customs arrest me, so I ignore him and drive on.

Leaving Mexico

He runs along next to us as we leave Mexico and enter one of those funny places that’s kind of in neither country. I decide I should sort everything out and so stop at the insurance place this guy apparently works for. The lady there is very friendly and I try extra hard to be polite and speak calmly and slowly as as few minutes earlier I was shaking with anger/fear/I don’t exactly know. After we ask the guy not to speak about twenty times I realize the lady is selling perfectly legit insurance policies and this guy is a kind of broker. He had run across and bought a policy in my name for 200 pesos and then ran back to me and tried to charge me 400 pesos. The nice lady is pretty shocked when I tell her I shredded the paperwork and has to call her supervisor. Everything works out OK – she takes the shredded paperwork, gives the man back his 200 pesos and we pretend it never happened.
Her supervisor also told her not to sell me another policy

We drive on and have to stop for ‘fumigation’ of the Jeep – this is another scam I’m told will happen at all the borders, but it is kind of official and I do get a receipt for my 80 pesos ($USD 6). We park the Jeep and walk into Belize customs, where we both get stamps no problems and I move onto customs to fill in some paperwork for the Jeep. It takes a while, but we have no problems and I have one of those special stamps that says I can’t leave the country without the Jeep.
We are finally in Belize and stop to buy insurance, this time from a very legit place that charges the correct price

Easy, huh?

We drive into Belize, 26,600km down really having no idea what to expect…

-Dan

Our room at Barton's place

Up early to beat the crowds we enter the ruins at Tulum and are hugely impressed. The city was built on limestone cliffs overlooking the ocean and the whole area is absolutely beautiful. We wander around in the morning sunshine reading all the information boards and trying to overhear paid guides from time to time.

The oceanside ruins at Tulum

More ruins at Tulum

As the sun get higher and warmer we move on and drive out to the small town of Coba to see more ruins. The drive is supposed to take 30 mins, and in a daydream I miss to turn and we wind up driving twice as far and arrive only shortly before closing time. The ruins at Coba are spread over a huge area, and this combined with our lack of time makes renting bicycles seems obvious.

Riding bikes around the Coba ruins was great fun

We have a great time rolling around, stopping every 500 meters or so to checkout another temple or building. At one stop we come across a little critter that I at first think must be an ant-eater then a couple of locals tell us it’s in fact a very close relative of the raccoon.

The biggest temple at Coba

The main attraction at Coba is a temple 42 meters high, which is plenty enough to get a great view over the jungle canopy, which stretches endlessly in all directions. All manner of people are tackling the climb & descent with varying degrees of success. Back in Tulum we’re in the habit of eating out for every meal, which is going to hurt my pocket for sure – what the heck. We also love wandering up and down the main street poking into all the shops looking at various nothings.

View over the jungle canopy at Coba

One of the major attractions in the Tulum area are ‘centoes’, limestone caves filled with extremely clear water – perfect for snorkeling and scuba diving. There are quite a few to choose from, so on the advice of a cool guy we meet we head out to Cenote Dos Ojos (two eyes) to get the run down. Once we see the photos we’re quickly convinced to hire a guide and do the full tour. The guide jumps in the Jeep for the few kilometer ride to the actual entrance so I ride on the outside standing on the running board holding onto the roll cage while Kate drives for the first time on the right hand side of the road. It’s a riot and might just be the most fun couple of kilometers of the whole trip

Snorkeling in Cenote Dos Ojos

We gear up and head straight into the centoe and pretty soon we’re right in the thick of it. The water is extremely clear and we can see for maybe twenty or thirty meters underwater with powerful flashlights. Seeing the odd scuba diver glide by many meters under us really adds something. Our guide takes us through all kinds of connecting tunnels and small caverns, all filled with massive stalactites and stalagmites.

Outside the cenote

An underwater stalactite

The highlight is going through one section about thirty meters long where the roof of the cave is never more than 30 cm from the water, and not much wider. Quite a few times we have to keep our heads completely in the water as only the tip of the snorkel has enough clearance.

Water to roof height is pretty small

Underwater in the cenote

I’m completely shocked at how beautiful the underwater formations are and walk around with a huge grin for the rest of the day.

Reflected in the surface of the water

Belize is close, really close

-Dan

The ocean off Isla Mujeres

My friend Kate was looking for some exciting travel during her time off work, so we made plans about a month back for her to travel with me for the next three weeks or so. I pick her up at the extremely busy airport in Cancun with no problems and after the sightseeing loop we make for the ferry to Isla Mujeres. We are the last car on with about 30 seconds and 30 centimeters to spare. A note to anyone heading out to Isla Mujeres – this ‘locals’ ferry is about 5 km south of Cancun and costs about $1.80 USD per person. The tourist ferries from the middle of town cost between of $10 and $15 USD.

Actually the most Eastern point of Mexico

Kate is much more organized than me and booked ahead for accommodation, thinking it would be crazy-busy around this New Years time and she was spot on. We find the ‘Poc-Na’ hostel without much delay and I’m really surprised by the sheer number of tourists, all speaking heavily accented English. The Poc-Na hostel is great, with a restaurant and bar, huge sandy camping area and beachfront volleyball court.

Kate & Dan on top of the lighthouse

The island itself is really cool, full of restaurants, shops and street markets selling all manner of tacky tourist stuff and ‘local’ arts & crafts. We spend a day driving around the whole island, which turns out to be a lot smaller than I had thought. It’s possible to rent golf buggies and mopeds here, so suicidal tourists zip about in all directions. We take the roof down on the Jeep and a few people comment when I park next to a row of golf buggies. Mine is clearly the best

Loving the sunshine

There were tons of these guys hanging around

The small tortoise refuge allows for some great photos and Kate falls in love with the little guys.

One of the little guys

These guys look so fake it's amazing

The next day we head out to a small reef just off the island for some snorkeling. I’ve been before on the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and it is hilarious to compare the safety standards – actually there is nothing to compare as they are completely non-existent here. After paddling around for a while I’m impressed by a really close-up view of a spinning boat propeller. Apparently the guy wanted to talk to his friends, so drove right through the middle of the snorkeling tourists.

The number of fish was staggering

There are tons of brightly colored fish in every direction and we also see a small amount of coral, some barracudas and sting rays. Kate’s underwater camera is really great, but it hasn’t done a good job of capturing the colors – it was a lot clearer than the photos look.

We saw a few Barracudas

New Years Eve with thousands of locals is really really huge, and again I’m amused by the ability for anyone to buy fireworks of literally any size. Quite a few sounded like mortar rounds and were being set off by teenagers throwing small ones at each other.

Kate & Dan out snorkeling

The sun shines hot every day and the crystal clear water is just the right temperature. We enjoy eating at all the restaurants and wandering around the stores and street markets in search of bargains.
Isla Mujeres is a really beautiful little place.

-Dan

The lush mountains of Chiapas

I roll into the town of Palenque and check into at a really cheap hotel before wandering around the very busy & touristy town. It’s nice to see about 95% of the tourists are Mexican and I enjoy a great dinner of chicken Fajitas after getting some assistance from locals to order. I hit the ruins at 9am the next morning and find it already amazingly busy with tour buses and people playing chicken in every direction. I ask a fellow driver and it seems we must park at the crowded museum and walk up the very steep hill to the ruins. Once at the top, I purchase my entrance ticket and wander into the park with a couple of Brits I meet standing in line.

The first temple at Palenque

The city of Palenque has evidence of habitation going back to 100 BC and from 600 – 900 AD it was the power center of this entire corner of what we today call Mexico. It’s regarded as the biggest ruins in Mexico and I’m not disappointed in the least.

Some writing, no idea what it says

The ruins themselves are enormous and stunning, with many buildings having been excavated and restored all surrounded by lush green grass. The entire area sits next to dense jungle and misty mountains. I don’t see any monkeys, although I feel certain they are hiding behind every tree

The tallest temple that permits climbing

When I attempt to leave just before midday I find the Jeep is parked in, and only because it’s near the edge and some creating driving on my part I manage to get it out. The entire area is now unbelievably busy and apparently getting more so by the minute. My advice to anyone visiting Palenque is to arrive at the gate the very minute it opens to try and beat the crowd.

Beautiful plants & trees are everywhere

The setting and scale are most impressive

In places the buildings have not been restored to show decay

View from the top

Another beautiful one

-Dan

Statue at the entrance to town

I meet Victor, who has a small English school in the busy little town of Tehuantepec and we quickly become good friends. Victor taught himself English because of the advantages it makes available and is now passionate about teaching others. His students pay whatever they can, all he asks in return is their hard work and dedication. I start out by introducing myself and observing a few classes, and then move up to running 90 minute classes. The students have excellent vocab, they are just uncertain on pronunciation and sentence structure.

The students from one of my English classes

Hanging out with Victor in his town is great, he knows everyone and everything cool we need to checkout. Some of the events in random order are:

• Attending a wedding, huge sweet 15 party and a traditional Bella party where people in traditional dress dance until 5am. I’m not sure why, but a requirement of all these parties seems to be music at a volume that rattles the teeth in my head.

At the wedding, confetti was thrown at the bride & groom before clay pots were smashed on the ground

• Eating traditional Mexican food for every single meal, always cooked on an open fire by Victor’s mother and grandmother. They have a stove and oven, but prefer to use the fire.

Grandma

• Going out on a Saturday night and drinking our fill of Corona for all of $15 USD each.
• My guitar gets stolen from the back of the Jeep – it’s been sitting there the whole time and I expected it to go long ago, so I’m not at all surprised. I’ve been playing it a lot in recent weeks, so I’m going to miss it. Now I’m glad I didn’t buy a surfboard and risk losing it so soon.

The colours at the Bella were amazing

• While at Victor’s house we feel a very small earthquake, similar to a heavy truck driving by.
• I fall out of a hammock onto concrete when the supporting hook bends open under my weight. Everyone including me can’t stop laughing for ten minutes.

The traditional dresses worn for the Bella are hand sewn and cost many thousands of dollars

• Many of the students in my English class go to university in Mexico City and it’s really exciting to hang out with them and learn so much about Mexico and it’s history. Many of the students have exciting ideas as to how Mexico can improve it’s many problems, from pollution and unemployment to corruption and stray dogs.
• On Christmas I meet a friend of Victor who moved north to a border town to work in a factory making flat-screen TVs for the US. The town is regarded as the most dangerous in Mexico, but the pay is comparatively very good so he continues to live and work there, along with thousands of other Mexicans from all over the country.

Victor & Dan ready to goto the Bella party

• I get flat tire number four repaired, a very slow leak on the bead on the spare.

Smashing a pinata, always a good time

I really enjoy teaching English and with Victors help, my Spanish improves ten fold.

-Dan

I plugged it in to charge in a stupid spot and my friend tripped over the cord, pulling it down about four feet onto the solid concrete floor. The screen is smashed so that it´s completely unusable, although the rest of the system seems perfectly fine. I was a little upset when it first happened, but got things quickly into perspective when I realized I am perfectly fine and  it´s nothing more than an inconvenience. A new screen is only $35 USD on eBay and not hard to swap out, it´s just the logistics of getting one down here.

My poor little Dell Mini 9 after taking a tumble on the concrete

I had a plan A to get one today, but that didn’t work out, and plan B has me getting one in about 3 weeks, the next time I know exactly when I will be where. Until that time I´m going to keep updating the website from internet cafes, although unfortunately there is no chance the updates will be as substantial as in the past. As yet, I´m not even sure I´ll be able to post any photos at all.

You can be certain I am continuing to adventure, take notes and take a ton of photos (there are already 150 on my camera now). When my laptop is fixed I plan on posting full updates with stories and photos for the time lost so you can all share in the adventure as much as always.

I hope you´ll stick with me and continue to share while I sort out this technical problem

-Dan

I spoke to my family on Christmas Day, which helped lesson the distance I was feeling. My Mum, Dan & Sister told me about playing in the snow in New York City which put a huge smile on my face for the rest of the day.

I hope you`ll forgive me if updates are a little light over the next week or so, there are just too many parties to attend

All the best,

-Dan

Sunset over the Pacific at my ocean paradise

The local market in Puerto Escondido is very well known and we venture in to re-supply on fresh fruits and vegetables. It is very crowded, with stalls crammed in to every possible space. Most have items hanging very low from the roof and I have to constantly duck and weave to avoid them. Combined with the heat, humidity and level of background noise I feel like I’m exploring through some kind of urban jungle.

The colours of the market

The stalls selling fresh produce are stacked with every kind of fruit and vegetable I have ever seen, and a whole lot I have not. Everything is amazingly fresh and cheap, with most things probably having been picked earlier in the day. Mango season is over, making them hard to come by right now. We find only one stall selling them and we pay a few dollars for five huge ones. This is the highest price Caroline has ever paid and she mentions how in season they are practically free there are so many.

Fruit and vegetables in every colour

The area selling meat and fish is a sight to behold – almost all the stalls have their entire stock just sitting on the open counter for sale, without a fridge in sight. There are all manner of chicken, fish, beef and pork pieces, some in various stages of being dried for unknown reasons. Shopkeepers sit and wave sticks to keep the ever-present flies at bay, while others with glazed eyes have clearly given that up hours ago. Of course the smell is overpowering and at times I struggle to keep a smile on my face. Everyone else seems to think it’s perfectly normal.

These insects are apparently for eating...

A couple of stalls are selling small insects that look like grasshoppers. I can’t figure out if they are for eating and the shopkeepers don’t want to talk to me as soon as they realize I’m not buying anything. Other stalls have beautiful hand woven baskets, hammocks & rugs/blankets in every bright color imaginable.

The beach at Puerto Escondido

Living in paradise and exploring the area is fantastic, though we’ve nearly finished the website and I feel the urge to move south to new adventures.

I'm reminded of Pterodactyls when I see these birds

-Dan

Chirping gecko lizards...as loud as a squirrel

Caroline is very welcoming and gives me the grand tour of her Oceanfront retreat and boutique hotel slated to open early in 2010. Construction is going full steam ahead on beautiful mexican-style concrete buildings, all with palapa roofs and amazing decor. My room is a self-contained villa, with a roof-top palapa and 180° views of the ocean, which is less than 75 meters away. I settle in and find very quickly that Caroline loves to cook, and is amazing at it – before long we are enjoying a cold beer with our huge home-cooked meal of local fresh fish.

This guy came around every morning at breakfast

I settle into a daily routine of waking up at dawn to watch the sunrise over the ocean, working with Caroline before lunch on the new website and having afternoons to explore the surrounding area. Caroline’s property is a 10 minute walk from a friendly little village, and 30mins drive in each direction are lots of little communities to investigate. I’m throughly enjoying having great food to eat and exercising every day with a run on the beach or a work-out followed by a swim every night at sunset. Reading for hours while lying in a hammock quickly becomes a habit.

Sunset from "my" hammock

We head into Zicatela, the main surf/tourist beach in Puerto Escondido to use the internet and hangout in the great atmosphere. There are tourists getting around all over the place, and I’m constantly catching Auzzie accents in every direction, crazy surfers as they are. Everyone is riding really short boards and after seeing the impressive curl to the large waves I understand why. I’m told 10 minutes south at “The Point” the waves are a lot more friendly to amateurs such as myself.

Puerto Escondido beach all artistic like

Surfboards are much cheaper here than anywhere else I’ve been – I can get a junker for $100 USD, used boards in good shape are around $200 USD and brand new is just over $300 USD.
I’m thinking about it.

Dropping in at Zicatela (I took the photo... not me surfing)

In the mean time I’ll continue to soak up the sun and enjoy this little ocean side paradise I’ve found

-Dan

Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell

I can’t believe I have not read this before, and as usual for such a top-shelf title it found me more than me it. This is Orwell writing in the late 1940’s about a fictional 1984 with a very controlling government actually called “Big Brother”. Some of the following ideas hit so close to home I’ve read and re-read them many times, with varying degrees of alarm:

The problem was how to keep the wheels of the world turning without increasing the real wealth of the world. Goods must be produced, but they must not be distributed.

The primary aim of modern warfare is to use up the products of the machine [modern production] without raising the general standard of living.

The essential act of war is destruction, not necessarily of human lives, but the products of human labour. War is a way of shattering to pieces, or pouring into the stratosphere, or sinking in the depths of the sea, materials which might otherwise be used to make the masses to comfortable, and hence, in the long run, too intelligent. Even when the weapons of war are not actually destroyed, their manufacture is still a convenient way of expending labour without producing anything that can be consumed.

In principle it would be quite simple to waste the surplus labour of the world by building temples and pyramids, by digging holes and filling them up again, or even by producing vast quantities of goods and then setting fire to them. But this would provide only the economic and not the emotional basis for a hierarchical society.

The Worst Journey In The World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard

This is a first-hand account of Scott’s final and fatal journey to the South Pole in the winter of 1911-12, written by one of his supporting party and containing many journal entires from all men involved. This is without a doubt the most awe-inspiring adventure story I have ever read, in fact it’s quite likely to be one of the biggest and most epic adventure stories ever told.
I was shaking when I read the final paragraph, so certain it was written for me;

Exploration is the physical expression of the intellectual passion.
And I tell you, if you have the desire for knowledge and the power to give it physical expression, go out and explore. If you are a brave man you will do nothing: if you are fearful you may do much, for none but cowards need to prove their bravery. Some will tell you that you are mad, and nearly all will say ‘What is the use?’ For we are a nation of shopkeepers and no shopkeeper will look at research which does not promise him a financial return within a year. And so you will sledge nearly alone, but those with whom you sledge will not be shopkeepers: this is worth a good deal. If you march your Winter Journeys you will have your reward, so long is all you want is penguin’s egg.

Animal Farm by George Orwell

This is a great little book where a hypothetical farm of animals drive our their human masters and set up a society of their own, which is decidedly communist. Things run smoothly for a while and without ruining the tale, I think the final and lone “commandment” of their society sums things up nicely.

All animals are equal… but some are more equal than others

-Dan

On a couple of occasions over the last few weeks I’ve seriously thought about whether I can handle this trip and make it all the way. More than once I caught my reflection in the mirror and actually stood and had a conversation with myself. Granted, those times were when I was tired, sick and seriously struggling with Spanish, but it’s still very daunting even at the best of times. Traveling through Mexico is a lot different than the previous four months and it’s going to take some getting used to. At this point my Spanish is good enough that I can get around – I can buy food, gas and a room for the night without too much trouble, but I want so much more. I really want to be able to sit down with local people and find out about their country, their opinions on everything & also the places I really should be visiting along the way.

Learning Spanish will have a big impact on the rest of my trip. So far, I have not put in the time.

I also genuinely have no idea if I am safe or not, something I think about constantly. Nothing has happened to indicate I’m not, but I just can’t shake the endless warnings I was given. Every time I step out of the Jeep I am nervous and hesitant to really move about people and explore, and I constantly have that strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is not a feeling I like, and something I need to work on. It’s getting better as my Spanish improves and will hopefully continue in that manner.

Central America here I come...

Money is not something I’ve been stressing about, although I’ll admit that it comes into my thoughts more often than I would like. I went massively over budget in Canada and the US, and managed to bring it in some while Duke was paying for half the gas. Paying for hotels is not going to help, although I can’t see another option right now. Hopefully I have a good tax return and some money I lent out coming my way soon, which will really help out there.

At my current pace I will be around the bottom of South America right in the middle of winter, not really an option when living in a tent & driving on cheap all-season tires. So far I’ve come up with two possible options; slow down a little so I don’t get too far south until Spring or keep moving at my current pace and try to work a season at a ski resort somewhere in Argentina or Chile, then continue south in spring.
Going with my usual plan of not really planning at all, I’m just going to keep going with the flow and I’ll figure that one out when the time comes.

For now the road continues to chose me, and visa versa

-Dan

I finally hit the road late the next afternoon and am immediately driving through beautiful dense green mountains right by the ocean before a quick stop for a re-supply in Manzanillo. I heard about the surfing hotspot of La Ticla from a few different people, the target of today’s drive. I don’t want to be on the road when the sun goes down and the military guys with fully-automatic weapons at the checkpoint are taken aback when I voluntarily stop to ask for directions. They end up laughing at me and I’m relieved to hear it’s only another 20 minutes down the road.

I pull into the campground just as the sun touches the ocean, casting everything in a beautiful orange light. The beachside campground here has tons of Canadians and Americans who’ve made the trip down for the waves, which look nice, if not a little choppy. I had always intended to buy a board sooner or later on this trip, by lately the urge has been wearing off. For one thing boards here are very expensive because they are all brought down from the US. Secondly, everyone keeps asking me “Did you come down to surf?” and I kind of like answering no to that – I feel like surfing immediately puts a person in a stereotype that I don’t really belong in. The ocean is great, but it’s by no means my focus.
Maybe I’ll get a board later. Maybe.

Waves rolling in

I’ve booked in for a home-stay a long way south near Puerto Escondido and because I stayed in La Manzanilla an extra night, I now have two enormous days of driving ahead of me. I’m on the road at 9am and drive for the first few hours on very windy, steep mountain roads directly next to the ocean. I watch a couple of spiders crawl across the road, and then entertain myself for half an hour thinking about just how big a spider needs to be for me to see it while driving along at 50km/h. Those were some very big spiders.

I roll through Lazaro Cardenas & Zihatanejo without stopping, and begin making my way through an almost endless procession of small towns, with very slow moving trucks and ever-present Topes. A quick 10 minute stop for gas and lunch and I’m back on the road, watching the world roll by. The military presence here is huge, and I’m stopped about every hour for the routine questions of where I am from and where I am going. This is by far the biggest day of driving I have done for the entire trip, and it’s kind of a novelty. I had hoped to make it south of Acapulco before dark, but end up just short of the city. In nine hours of almost non-stop driving I cover 450km – an average of only 50km/h. That’s a pretty good indication of the road conditions, topes, trucks & other obstacles I have dealt with all day.

City by the sea

I pull into a hotel and am confused when the girl explains the price to me – per hour. I’ve never stayed in a per hour establishment and it’s all kind of amusing. I have a tiny room with air conditioning, a bathroom with cold shower and a place to park the Jeep for about $15 USD after some serious bargaining on my behalf.

I said I would leave at 6am and am not surprised to be woken by a knock on my door in the early morning. In my sleepy haze I fully open the door, to be greeted by a grimy mexican man who is obviously drunk and reeks of alcohol. At first I’m not sure what he wants, but it becomes all to clear when he first points at me, then himself, and finally the bed, nodding and grinning a toothless grin the whole time. I don’t know how to say “Go away” in Spanish, so I have to rely on the tone of my voice and my body language to get the message across, which doesn’t work so well. I end up physically shoving him out of the way to close and lock the door and he keeps talking through the door anyway.

Needless to say I don’t get any more sleep after that.

My new friend comes back in an hour and tries to offer me a beer, which I obviously don’t want. By the third time I can see the sky getting light outside and so decide I may as well get up and get moving, because I’m not sleeping any more. I’m horrified to learn my new friend actually works at the hotel – he is carrying the sheet of paper with my checkout time on it. By now he leaves nothing to guesswork and his hand gestures confirm what I had previously guessed.
I throw my stuff in the Jeep and get out as fast as I can.

It’s 7am, and within 10 minutes I am in heavy traffic leading into Acapulco, something I had not bargained for. I creep along in first gear for about 45 minutes before I find myself in the city proper at full-on rush hour. Up until this point I have described driving in Mexico as “make-it-up driving” but this is something altogether different. Cars are moving in every possible direction, cars are forcing their way in at merge points, horns and 4-way flashers are a means of communication and lanes and turn signals are completely irrelevant. On a road that allows for two lanes in each direction a momentary lapse in the opposing traffic means the lanes there sit open. Cars from all around me dart over and immediately convert the road into a four lane, one-way street, until they come head-on with traffic and frantically push their way back over. Most intersections don’t have lights or any form of control, so making a left-hand turn is a matter of just going whenever you can physically fit, the other cars seem to just flow around.

I really have no idea where I am going, and basically follow my nose until I see a sign that I need, which seems to work out pretty well in Mexican cities. In the cities themselves there are very few street signs, but as soon as I get near the outskirts the major highways are well signed. Before long I am on the correct highway, which has heavy construction and has turned into a parking lot in both directions. I move less than 1 km in an hour, a fact that everyone around me wants to tell the world about with their horn. The temperature and humidity are rising and all around me cars and trucks are spewing out thick black smoke, making the air heavy enough to chew. A gap opens up and I use the “When In Rome” philosophy, darting onto the wrong side of the traffic barrier and hurtling towards oncoming traffic. To my amazement they move out of my way, and along with a stream of others, we make great time driving on the wrong side of a divided highway, until such time as I come within centimeters of other vehicles pushing my way back in. I can’t be certain if it’s my gringo appearance, the height of the Jeep, or just how things normally work, but cutting people off seems to be a perfectly valid way of getting where you want to go.
I clear the city at 10.30am – three hours after I entered.

The day rolls on much like yesterday, although the novelty of driving has clearly warm off. I can tell I’m tired and pushing a little too hard when I hit two consecutive topes doing about 40 km/h, having not seen them at all. Again I’m driving through beautiful lush green jungle, winding mountain roads and endless little dusty towns. I make the routine 10 minute gas, bathroom and lunch stop and immediately get back on the highway, trying to beat the fast falling sun.

An unknown bay along the way

For the first time the military guys with big guns at a roadblock ask me to step out of the Jeep to search it, and I happily oblige. The whole experience is very friendly and the guard searching speaks pretty good English so we chat the whole time about where I’m from and why I’m driving alone. He is very thorough in his search and smiles broadly when he announces everything is fine and I can move on. I’ve come to like these military guys – they are always smiling and polite and simply go about their business as nicely as possible, which is perfectly fine as far as I am concerned.

Upon arrival at my final destination just before sunset it’s been a 10.5 hour day of driving for another total of 450km. I’m not in any hurry to do that again.

When I see the place I’ll be staying for the next week, I instantly know it was all worth it

-Dan

It all goes surprisingly smoothly, and we arrive without a single problem. It doesn’t seem to have nearly as much go at full throttle as it should, a problem for another day. Once we have the boat secured to the new anchor we put in, we swim a few hundred meters back to shore after a brief and unnecessary conversation about sharks in deep water. Neither of us is certain if they like water this warm, and decide for our own sanity that they don’t

My plan all along has been to organize couple of “Home-stays” in Mexico and maybe Guatemala. This involves living full time with a local family for a few weeks with the main goal of learning Spanish in a fully immersive environment. I already know quite a few people around town and start asking around for anywhere suitable. It turns out there is a Spanish school that not only has classes every day, they also organize home-stays. The classes are really expensive, as are the home-stays with most families wanting somewhere around $500 USD for a month. I meet the town baker who offers me a work-for-stay arrangement – help out for a few hours a day baking bread and he will teach me Spanish, which is exactly what I’ve been looking for.
Unfortunately he leaves town for a while and it never works out that way.

Kyle still has tons of things to be done, so I continue to stay at his place, working on odd jobs and learning Spanish from his wife and all the locals I meet.

I’ve been wondering when the wildlife will get decidedly exotic, and I think I’ve found it! Crocodiles live right in town natively and the viewing area is one of those really cool places where they are literally on the other side of a flimsy little fence. Of course the fence is only 10 meters long with nothing at all to prevent the crocs from walking around to our side Locals say they are sometimes seen walking from the swampy area to the beach about 100 meters away.
I’m told there are giant ant-eaters, scorpions, dangerous giant centipedes and huge spiders around the place, although I don’t spot any. I do see a massive Iguana walking near the river that is a brilliant bright green and must be almost two meters long.

The locals are pretty friendly

Of course the plant life is equally exotic, with bananas, mangoes, coconuts and a ton of other things I don’t even know the names of growing naturally all over the place. We find a couple of good coconuts on the ground and have a great time hacking them open with a machete, saving the precious water inside for an iced drink later. We collect all the flesh, blend and freeze it with milk and a little sugar to make the most amazing homemade ice cream I’ve ever had.

Proud of my first coconut, note the big machete

My friend Chewy the mechanic tells me of a Hot Spring not far away, and I of course jump at the opportunity to check it out. The river turns out to be a little higher than usual, and I can feel the really warm water as I walk through the river. Chewy explains that with a shovel and some mats to lie on, some really amazing soaking can be had. Of course it’s pushing 40 degrees, so I’m happy walking in the cool river. Nearby we stop at a beautiful little cove on the ocean that I’m told has top-notch snorkeling. I bump into a couple of Canadians who have ridden down on motorbikes and are soaking in the sunshine and contemplating the return journey north. It’s great to meet more travelers who have nothing but positive things to say about their time in Mexico.

The hot water is coming up from the bottom of the river

Speaking of Canadians and ex-pats in general, I should mention just how many of them there are around these parts.
Suffice to say there are lots.
I gather most are retired, or semi-retired and come down here every year to escape the northern winters. Most seem to own property, and spend their days soaking in the sun and enjoying many a cold beer. A significant number have driven down, and again, I hear nothing but good things about their experiences in Mexico. It’s a bit of a shame to see them all hanging out in their “own” bar, watching football on TV, eating burgers and speaking only English. I can’t help thinking they could just as well have stayed home, but they seem really happy.

Beachside paradise found!

Almost everything is done for the opening of the restaurant, and Kyle and has Dad are also working on a really ambitious investment plan. They built a beautiful 2 story house with a palapa on the roof and are working on building a few more for people that are interested in investing in the town of La Manzanilla. You can checkout their website at manzanillamystique.com to get the run down.

I’m throughly enjoying my time here, and am beginning to feel it’s time to move on. Jeep is covered in a thick layer of dirt from inactivity and is just as eager as I am for the road ahead.

-Dan

The town of La Manzanillia

Nastiness aside, there is plenty of work and play to keep us busy, as Duke’s friend Kyle is opening a restaurant in town in hopefully a week or two. One of my favorite tasks is trying to fix the boat Kyle dragged down from the US, a big old thing with a rusty V8 Volvo engine. The first problem we identify is an inoperable starter motor, signified by loud clunking and little else. We try our best to clean it out and get nowhere, so the local mechanic, Chewy, is called in. I learn very quickly that Mexican mechanics are wizards – they have very few tools and no formal training and can fix anything with wire, duct tape, WD40 and a hammer. What they lack in ‘formal’ skill they make up ten fold with persistence and ingenuity. I go with Chewy to a nearby town where we completely dismantle the starter, clean everything throughly and re-assemble the working unit. In one afternoon hanging out with locals I learn more Spanish than I have in the last two weeks.

Chewy and his wife on his bike, complete with Pioneer CD player

In the middle of fixing the boat, we turn our attention to the pair of jet skis Kyle also towed down, both of which need some TLC. We obviously have solid motivation to get them running well, and of course we all need to take them for extended test runs in the ocean, with Duke clearly getting the most air over the waves. I’ve never ridden big jet skis before and the 900cc two-stroke takes a lot of effort just to hold on at full throttle
Hours of laughing and grinning like idiots ensues, especially when Tyler forgets that jet skis don’t turn without throttle and barely misses running us over.

Duke and Ty rode back on the trailer like this, complete with engine sounds

It’s time for Duke to head back to the US, so at 5am we team up with Kyle and a couple of locals to head into Guadalajara for for the day. Dropping Duke at the airport is a bittersweet experience – it’s been awesome having a travel companion for a month and I’m both excited and nervous to be going it alone in Mexico from now on. Duke’s company has been a great learning experience for me, having spent so much time essentially on my own during the trip. I like to live the simple, quiet life while Duke enjoys as many distractions as possible, and plenty of all-night benders to keep things interesting. His company will be missed.
We potter around all day in Guadalajara getting odds and ends for the new restaurant. It feels like an amazing city, teaming with life and energy & it’s a nice change to be a tourist for a whole day and not have to concentrate on driving or directions.

The main beach at La Manzanillia

After charging the batteries on the boat the engine turns over well but will not fire – a few more hours of investigation by Chewy and myself and I declare the coil to be dead, a fact I’m proud to say I deduced because when I got shocked checking for spark it didn’t hurt much
We finally get it running and towed down to a useable ramp into the ocean, a task not easily accomplished. It runs for only a few minutes before smoke pours out of the engine compartment, leading us to think briefly there is an actual fire on board.
Over the next few hours we;

• Try to drive/paddle/swim it to a mechanic who refuses to look at it,

• Don’t pay $30 for a tow back and go it alone,

• Get stuck on shallow tidal flats numerous times,

• Push it a few hundred meters over razor-sharp oyster shells,

• Get left behind and walk/swim/climb fences for an hour to get back.

With Chewy on the scene a few days later we discover one of the heat exchangers on the extractors is not working, so we clean out the 3 kilograms of rust and mud it contains, put it all back together and finally have a fully functioning boat. It needs to be driven from the town it’s currently in back to La Manzanilla – about an hour in the open ocean. Somehow the task falls to Kyle and I and 10 minutes later we are powering out into the ocean with me at the helm. Of course we’ve only got a quarter tank of gas, no radio, no watch, no flares, no maps, no gps and only a vague idea of where we are going.

What could possibly go wrong?

-Dan

The view from Mike & Shelly's balcony

The policy on turtle eggs on this beach is amazing – they are removed from the beach, raised inside until they hatch, then released on the sand at sunset to the delight of camera wielding tourists. We didn’t stick around to see the turtle parade into the ocean, but did get to see a container full of little ones that had just hatched earlier that day.

Baby turtles eager to hit the sand

On Mike & Shelly’s recommendation we make a stop at the Puerto Vallarta Zoo to contemplate our options. The crazy thing about this zoo is that it’s encouraged for you to feed and pat the animals – all of them, even the bears – through a fence. This leads to some amazing photos of patting a(n) that is bending down to eat a carrot right out of your hand. It’s late in the day and a few of us don’t want to pay 100 pesos for only 1 hour of zoo time, so we move along. As we drive out of the parking lot a local guy tells us the film set for Predator is just a little ways further up the road.
It sounds cool but we pass.

The whole crew

The light fades quickly and I find myself driving in the dark for the first time in Mexico, something I was warned time and time again not to do. Below are a few reasons why I won’t be trying this stunt again in a hurry:

• The road surface is extremely unpredictable and difficult to see at night. At times I can move along nicely at 90 km/h, then I hit a sharp corner where the surface deteriorates to bad gravel in the space of 10 meters.

• The un-signed vicious speed humps (topes) are usually a first gear affair even in the Jeep, and are very tricky to spot in the dark. I’ve already hit one doing about 80 km/h and don’t want a repeat.

• A lot of vehicles have very few lights or none at all, making them virtually impossible to spot in the dark. At one point while I’m doing about 70 km/h a car appears just off the side of the road coming towards me from the side. It is apparently merging onto the highway with no lights of any kind.

• Very slow vehicles are encountered often, and apparently locals are even crazier about overtaking on blind corners at night than they are during the daylight.

Duke has more friends in the little beach side community of La Manzanilla, and we rock in late at night to find we’re crashing in a full-on guest house, and are basically treated like kings

Palm trees a plenty beachside at La Manzanilla

In town we buy a mountain of 8 peso tacos and have a huge feast, full of excitement for the adventures we will have in our new town…

-Dan

We’ve been told over and over again the main drag of downtown Puerto Vallarta is fantastic at night, so we set off on a little adventure. Two of the guys we are walking with have been smoking a substance that is not illegal here and we’re all drinking beer, again something that is perfectly legal. We’re walking down a narrow, built-up residential street when we see the Police coming straight at us in their pickup-truck cruiser. They jump out and very quickly grab our hands to smell them – asking if we’ve been smoking anything tonight. It’s very obvious they can tell who has been smoking and who has not, and they line us up, hands on the hood of the cruiser to frisk us.

The atmosphere is very relaxed and I don’t feel scared or threatened at all, in fact it’s all quite amusing and I continue to drink from my beer can while everything is going on. I have not been smoking, so they are not really focusing on me. The only hint that this is serious comes when one of the officers puts his hand protectively on his sidearm as I walk behind him. Even though the tone is quite relaxed he clearly didn’t want to risk me making a lunge for it.

The officer frisks me very, very throughly and goes to work on my wallet which has almost nothing in it. He opens every compartment and puts everything on the hood. Interestingly, he makes me remove my money and hold onto it while he’s searching – apparently if he blatantly took it from me I could launch a formal complaint against him and he would be in serious trouble. After all the frisking and searching turns up nothing, it becomes clear they want money from us.
Then, just as quickly as they came, they drive off leaving us standing there wondering what happened.

We walk only a few hundred meters further down the road before they show up and start demanding money once again. We are later told they are trying to avoid a scene as they don’t want others to see they are extorting money from tourists for no good reason. This charade is repeated twice more before it’s very clear they are not going to leave us alone until we pay them off. Exactly how much money they want is difficult to determine, and I’m happy when they make it clear they want nothing from me as I have not been smoking. Even though we have technically done nothing wrong, they know we are tourists and therefore seem to be fair game. The unspoken threat here is throwing us in jail for the night, which from all accounts is pretty unpleasant.

The two smokers eventually hand over 100 pesos each ($USD 7.70) which turns into another big charade. The officer snatches the money and deliberately throws it on the floor of the cruiser, before launching into a speech about how he’s actually the good guy here. If he wasn’t ‘helping’ us, we’d all be in federal prison for the night and would wind up paying ten times more money to get out. He makes a point of telling us he doesn’t need to tell us how nasty federal prison is.
In fact, we’re all very lucky he came along to help us out and we should be thanking him for being such a nice guy.

Yeah, right.

They zoom off into the night and we have no more trouble for the night. So it cost our group all of $15 USD to get a lesson in Police corruption. I’m later told Police in Mexico work for very low wages and operate under the constant threat of serious violence, so bribery is their way of making things ‘fair’.

Lesson learned with no harm done.

-Dan

The road is super steep and windy

The countryside has changed significantly here on the mainland, with lots of farmland nestled in what is quickly becoming lush green jungle. The humidity has jumped up a lot and during the middle of the day the heat is oppressive, making us want to lay about on a beach. We find the perfect place where hundreds of locals are down on the sand partying, drinking, eating & swimming – everyone is having a great time. We throw the frisbee around and body surf for a while attracting the attention of local kids and a bunch of girls that want photos with Duke.

The beach with hundreds of happy locals

A little way down further we find a perfect secluded spot to camp, which works out perfectly until we sleep in a little late and get trapped high on the sand by the tide. Ordinarily I wouldn’t mind getting trapped on a perfect white sand beach, except we are sharing the spot with about a hundred million local biting bugs. After a couple of hours we can tolerate it no longer and I drive the Jeep really low on the sand through the shallow water to get out of there. We pass through a couple of very remote towns well off the beaten path, where children stand in the street staring at us.
I don’t know, but I think maybe they’ve never seen a white person before.

Mountains are popping up all over

Gas here on the mainland is actually a little more expensive, but almost everything else is cheaper. We stop a few times to re-supply odds and ends and pay all of $1.10 to re-fill both our huge water containers with purified drinking water. We roll into Puerto Vallarta in time to watch the most amazing sunset I have ever seen. Literally three quarters of the sky is some shade of red, yellow or orange and is often partially obscured only by palm trees.
We’ve driving in heavy traffic so I can’t get a photo this time around. I will.

Another amazing sunset

Rolling into the Oasis Hostel we immediately love the vibe. About 10 people are hanging around at the front of the building painting a VW van, drinking and laughing. Duke and I quickly join them and we’re soon in the thick of things sharing tales of adventure crowded around the map on the hood of the Jeep. We really really like it here and make so many new friends we keep staying for “just one more night”, over and over.

A tiny glimpse of Puerto Vallarta

When you find a place this good, there is no rush

-Dan

I noticed only a couple of things:

• The front diff is still leaking, but only a little and it’s not a problem.
• All the brakes & suspension are in good shape.
• Everything in the front end appears to be fine, which I was worried about after hitting a nasty speed bump (tope) at about 80 km/h.

Dan & Jeep enjoying a sunset over the Pacific Ocean

The road rolls on for the Jeep and I.

-Dan

It’s a scenic 30 minutes around to Pichilingue where I wait in line for almost an hour while a lady ahead of me fills out the paperwork for literally eight vehicles. My turns comes and it’s soon clear the girl behind the counter speaks about as much English as I do Spanish, but it doesn’t seem to slow us down much. A note to anyone who attempts to temporarily import a vehicle into Mexico – before you get in line, make sure you have one copy of each of your passport, registration, title and your Mexico Tourist Card you got when you entered Baja California South or moved south from the main US/Mexico border. Walking around the corner to get a copy of my Tourist Card is not nearly as bad as it could have been when I am allowed to jump back to the front of the line. I sign a few forms, answer some standard questions, pay $USD 30 and in less than 10 minutes I’m issued a shiny sticker for the windshield of the Jeep, officially allowing it to be driven by me throughout Mexico for the duration of my Tourist Card.
Interestingly, I was never even asked for my Mexican car insurance policy (which is required by law and I do have).

Now the Jeep is actually allowed onto the mainland, we tackle the task of ferry tickets. It seems the ferry companies go bankrupt and change hands every year or two, so all my planning ahead is way off the mark in terms of schedules and prices. Anyone reading the information here should remember it’s very likely to have changed since my trip.

Baja Ferries are a little more expensive and do not have a ferry leaving until the next day so we walk over to The Transportation Maritime of California offices to try our luck. There is a ferry leaving this afternoon at 4pm, and we’re told maybe there is room for us. Returning at 2pm we are given the all clear and purchase our tickets – $2, 950 pesos ($USD 227) for the Jeep and I, and 800 pesos ($USD 62) for Duke.
The customs inspector checks out the Jeep’s nice new sticker, verifies the VIN number and simply asks me if I am me, which I think is kind of obvious.

Rounding a building we see our home for the next 16 or so hours, The San Guillermo – a rusty looking old thing that is just perfect. The loading guys wave me aboard and I drive onto a hydraulic lift behind a small truck, which I think is a great novelty having never seen a lift on a vehicle ferry. The lift brings us to the upper deck which is already about half full of extremely tightly packed 18 wheelers and other massive trucks. When I park the Jeep it’s clearly the smallest vehicle and is quickly sandwiched between the heavily loaded trucks. They are all chained to the open deck, and it occurs to me that a little movement in any direction will not be a good thing at all.

The Jeep packed on the ferry

We grab a few things to entertain us and move up to the ‘passenger area’. Purchasing the cheapest possible tickets means we don’t have a fancy cabin or anything like that, we have to roam around the ship and find our own space. One room is provided for us cattle class passengers, and it’s filling fast by the time we find it. The truck drivers are obviously well practiced in this routine and have stripped the seats of cushions and are sound asleep on the floor, in the isles and sprawled across multiple seats. The air in the room is already stale and snoring seems to be a local contest.

It’s great entertainment to sit on the back deck watching the loading process continue, each truck pushed within inches on all sides. When the upper deck is clearly full another 18 wheeler is brought up and I don’t need to speak Spanish to know I’m not the only one that thinks it won’t fit anywhere. The driver reverses off the lift until the rear of the trailer is just where he wants it, leaving the front sticking out sideways about 4 meters (12 feet). The prime mover is disconnected from the trailer, does a fifteen point turn and is reconnected to the trailer at a right angle. The driver is obviously in a crazily low gear as he revs the engine hard and reverses, ever so slowly forcing the fully loaded trailer to slide sideways into the small space. All of us spectators stand to get a better view of the screeching tires and many nods of approval are seen as the trailer comes to a stop in a gap that can’t be more than 3 inches longer than the trailer itself.
A neat trick, for sure.

The sunset in the haze of the smoke stack

We sit outside on the deck to watch as we cast off and power out into the calm open ocean. Striking up a conversation with some guys our age draws a small crowd of drivers and we are soon using my pocket dictionary to conjure up all sorts of horribly broken sentences. The drivers befriend us and invite us to eat dinner with them in the galley which we are elated to learn is already paid for by our ticket price. Dinner is simple rice, chicken, re-fried beans and tortillas and hits the spot perfectly. We stay up late talking to the drivers, who are taken aback to say the least to learn of my trip – they find it hard to believe I could save enough money in two years and think I must be rich.
We share soda, cookies & beer until we are kicked out to get some sleep.

Trying to communicate with my little dictionary

The night air is still perfectly warm so we find a place up on deck to roll out our sleeping bags for the night. I lay awake thinking about the enormity of what I am doing for a while, enjoying the slight rocking of the ship across the ocean. I’ve been pretty amped all afternoon at the situation I find myself in; I’m riding the biggest ferry of my life, in a foreign country where I don’t speak the language and I’m enjoying myself immensely.
For the first time it dawns on me what I’m doing is on a pretty big scale and getting bigger by the day.

Where I slept on the open deck for the night

I’m awakened in the morning by the sunrise and watch a whole pod of dolphins playing along side the ship, birds noisily landing on deck and a couple of turtles that float by. Again we enjoy breakfast with our new trucker friends, who wish us all the best for the road ahead as we pull into Mazatlan at around 8:30am.
The entire loading process is run in reverse, and we find ourselves wide eyed on the streets of Mazatlan at 10:30 on a beautiful sunny day.

-Dan

Currently, I am following Dan Grec, an Australian man that is living his dream to travel the top of Alaska to the bottom of South America; meanwhile he documents the details of his journey with pictures and personal stories at www.dangrec.com. It is fascinating to see how one man is utilizing a blog to stay connected with himself, his family and everyone he meets along the way.

You can read all of Kori’s article here and checkout her blog here, which I expect to grow a lot in the coming months.

-Dan

Sunset over the Pacific

Every night we are treated to an amazing display of stars, in numbers I have not seen since leaving Australia. My camera is limited to a maximum 30 second exposure, which I sadly discover is not nearly long enough to capture anything worth keeping.

The amimal life is getting pretty interesting

We roll into La Paz in the early afternoon and immediately find ourselves at a WalMart / Sams Club / Home Depot shopping centre, a novelty we can’t pass up.
We’ve just spent a week driving through an amazingly harsh desert, complete with enormous dust clouds, heavily rutted roads & people literally living in tin sheds and now we step into a WalMart Supercenter. I can’t believe my eyes when I realize the store is identical to every one I have seen across Canada and the US – every brand, every product, even the layout has been meticulously preserved.

The disorientation is complete when I hear jingles from American TV playing loudly over the store radio. I get turned around in the thousands of Christmas decorations and am disappointed when “I’m dreaming of a white christmas” does not get air time.
Do Mexicans even celebrate Christmas? (I think so)
Do they do it by buying a ton of crap they don’t actually need? (I highly doubt it)
I can’t believe how solidly American culture is begin slammed on the Mexicans and I am left wondering what the average Mexican thinks of this.

Concrete shipwreck next to where we camped

La Paz itself is a beautiful, friendly beach side city and we walk around for the afternoon getting the low down on our ferry crossing coming up in a few days.

Cabo San Lucas

The following day we roll into Cabo San Lucas and are again awe-struck.
We’ve been warned how American the city is and we are still not ready for what we see. Everything that is excessive about Las Vegas is duplicated here, with the added attraction of a beautiful white sand beach with thousands of people partying hard, even on a Thursday. We wander around for a few hours checking out hotels and find The Cabo Inn, a cosy hostel just a block from the main action for $22USD each. After again hitting up the beach for the afternoon sun we wind up back at the hostel chatting and laughing with travelers from all over the world.

Cabo San Lucas looking the other direction

A common theme continually comes up in all the conversations I can hear – everyone absolutely loves Mexico and have met nothing but kind, generous & friendly people everywhere they have been including Mexico City and other places I have been sternly warned to stay away from. It’s fantastic to hear about the kind of people I will meet and the sights I will see further down the road.
I really like Mexico

San José Del Cabo busy with surfers

The next day we start making out way back to La Paz, through San José Del Cabo to the Tropic of Cancer. It was not long ago I passed signs alerting me to my 45 degree latitude and now I find myself at 23° 27′ – I’m closing in on the Equator every day.

Even I figured this one out

-Dan

The Sea Of Cortez

We take a detour off Highway One and roam across to Bahia De Los Angeles, to see the Gulf of California aka The Sea of Cortez. The town is pretty small with only a handful of restaurants and hotels, so we drive 11km of extremely rutted gravel road around to Punta La Gringo. We find a beautiful little spot overlooking all the nearby islands where we swim and enjoy the 35 degree sun.

An island in the Sea Of Cortez

Back at the junction with Highway One we see two guys on heavily loaded bicycles and stop to chat.
“Where are you guys headed” I ask.
“Argentina” they both reply, grinning from ear to ear.
We quickly figure out they started in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska just before I was there. In fact, I probably passed them on the Dalton Highway just North of Fairbanks. We also have the same destination in mind, Tierra Del Fuego. We decide to camp together and find a great spot out of sight, off the highway. The four of us laugh and chat while cooking on our little camp stoves, throughly enjoying all the tales of adventure.

Duke, Seth, Parker & Dan in the desert

Seth & Parker have a similar plan to me, which is to say no real plan. They are also blogging about their adventure and you can read along at www.pebblepedalers.com

Camping in the desert was great & really cold at night

Duke and I continue on to Gurrero Negro, on the border between Baja California North and South. We go through an immigration stop here and I pay ten pesos (less than $1USD) to have the Jeep ‘washed’ for fruit fly. This consists of driving over a sprinkler that coats the underside with some un-known substance. In the office we clear customs, get a non-descript stamp in our passports and move on to the bank to pay 262 pesos ($20USD) for the privilege. The banks so far have been clean, organized & friendly – figuring out my debit card adds to my liking of them.
It’s nice to have my paperwork out of the way, and I will sort out the Jeep in La Paz before jumping the ferry to the mainland.

The main street of Gurrero Negro

Each town we have passed through has a good grocery store, an internet cafe & a place to purchase purified drinking water. We take advantage of all three, paying a few pesos for internet and 28 to fill our two massive water jugs. Street meat is again a priority before Duke splashes on some running shoes for all of $23USD.

A river running through San Ignacio, making an oasis

We camp on a secluded little beach for the night, where the water and breeze blowing off The Sea of Cortez are quite warm for the first time. It’s beginning to sink in that I’ve succeeded in skipping winter – it’s only going to get warmer for the next few months for me now

Jeep tracks on the beach

-Dan

We both commented that we could be in Idaho...

We feel a lot safer here in the smaller towns and start to venture out and explore. We stop in San Qunitìn to see how alien daily tasks are going to be:

Exchanging dollars for pesos is relatively easy at the bank, I just nod and smile when the teller speaks much, much too fast for me. I can’t get my debit card to work in the ATM, something I’ll have to figure out another day.

Duke is keen for some ’street meat’ so we stop at a taco stand and have egg & chicken burritos. We both eat a mountain of food for around $3 USD each. Duke’s superior Spanish begins to show, so I start picking his brain for everything I can.

Jeep and Pacific

Buying gas turns out to be a simple matter and the attendant teaches me the word for full when I say ‘mucho’, which gets the point across. Regular gas here is 7.4 pesos per liter, not as cheap as I had hoped, but still not bad. Maybe it will be cheaper on the mainland, away from tourists.

We walk up and down the street a little and have a look in a couple of supermarkets. All the big brand names are represented, as is every kind of food I normally eat and a ton I have no idea about. Prices seem cheaper than the US, but not amazingly so. Soft serve ice cream from a street vendor is extremely tempting for 75 cents, but I remember a stern warning I was given about it.
We pass.

Everything goes smoothly, but I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach. It’s been a long time since I was this far out of my element and it’s going to take some getting used to. I need to learn Spanish – fast.

Cacti are becomming more and more common

We drive down side roads to the beach in a few places, and quickly learn about dirt roads in Mexico. Potholes and huge ruts are common, and I can hardly hold 2nd gear. In the small town of El Rosario we are told we have to checkout the surfing hangout of San Carlos, not far away on the coast. We end up taking the long, roundabout way where the road gets crazier and crazier until I’m in low range 4×4 and pushing the Jeep pretty hard to climb hills. I feel bad pushing it this hard, but she seems to handle it just fine. (fingers crossed)

Pushing the Jeep uphill

We round a corner and find ourselves at San Carlos, a world famous point break popular with wind surfers, kite surfers and the regular kind. We meet Kevin, the owner, and are given the grand tour and introduced around. We are hugely surprised by the scale of the great setup, with solar power, showers & tons of boards for hire & sale. A crew of professional mountain bike riders is kicking around filming, so we tag along and hang out for the day, laughing and enjoying paradise together. A couple of the guys have been coming down to Mexico for 20 years and I pick their brains on everything I can think of, always eager for more information about the road ahead.

Progessional mountain bike photography

The sunset over the Pacific Ocean seems to take forever, through every shade of red, orange & yellow.

One of our ocean side campsites - the wind is ferocious

-Dan

Around midday the following day we drive south on Interstate 5 until it ends, literally in Mexico. I’ve apparently driven in the wrong lane as the border guard asks a random person to translate, and directs me across four lanes of moving traffic into the ‘declaration’ lane. The once again spanish-speaking-only guard there wants to see in the back of the Jeep and barely pokes his nose in before he declares it’s all fine.
Twice he asks me “One?” before I realize he wants to know if I am driving down highway one & therefore Baja California. “Si.” I reply, “é Mazatlán.”
Going to Mazatlán on the mainland means I have to get myself a ‘tourist visa’ and the equivalent for the Jeep.
Using the three words of spanish I’ve been practicing for the last week I ask where to find immigration for the Jeep and I.

We park off to the side and find the right ‘building’ for immigration services. The officer explains in broken english that we have to walk 2 blocks to a building that can take care of all the required paperwork. We walk off only to find he means us to walk through the turnstiles into Tijuana proper and stumble around the streets there. Our choices are to leave the Jeep where it is or drive it into Tijuana and deal with whatever comes. I’ve been to TJ a couple of times before and have no intention of spending time there now, especially while carrying all my important paperwork & thinking about how safe the Jeep (is not).

We decide to scrap the whole paperwork-at-the-border plan, delaying it all until we reach the bottom of Baja.

I’m extremely thankful to have a navigator as we follow the winding roads out of Tijuana, always on the lookout for elusive signs to Ensenada and highway 1D. I can’t take my eyes off the road for long, but what I do see brings back waves of memories – decrepit buildings on all sides, desolate people staring blank eyed into nothingness and abundant garbage and filth. The smells come now in full force – first a rotting dead animal, then the most powerful sewage I’ve ever experienced, and wave after wave of rotting fish. Combine all of this with a low-hanging fog/cloud/smog mix that makes the air taste, smell and look horrendous.
It’s quite literally another world from sunny San Diego & we both fall silent, trying to take it all in.

I’ve been told time and time again most of the problem areas in Mexico are close to the border, so it’s been my plan all along to put in a good day of driving and get as far south as possible. When we hit the first toll booth, we figure out that Highway 1D is a toll road and we pay USD$2 quite a few times on our way to Ensenada, which turns out to be a very big place. It’s a little surreal to drive down a road and see a shopping district complete with a Walmart Supercenter, McDonalds, Burger King, Scotia Bank, Home Depot, etc. When I squint my eyes here, I could easily be in a strange part of the US or Canada.
With that thought on the font of my mind a few block later, the shops give way to all out poverty once again.

Dan on the Pacific Ocean in Mexico

The advice given to me was to think of roads not as a place for cars to move swiftly and safely, but more as a place where anything and everything will happen and cars have to deal with it. In the first few hours I encounter pot holes the size of my tires, construction that makes the surface so bad the Jeep is working hard, every kind of animal I can think of, numerous speed humps that are not signed and of course Duke’s favourite – the Police.

The Police and military in Mexico apparently don’t mess around and about every 30km we pass through a roadblock, manned by guys in full combat gear holding fully automatic weapons at the ready. Conversation with the guards is difficult & they seem more amused by us than anything else. Each time we are waived through without much of an inspection.

The Jeep in Mexico

After months and months of planning, I’m actually in Mexico, driving down that strip of land I’ve been pointing to on my hood for the last four months.
The road chose me.

-Dan

Jen, Christopher & Greg

I’ve been to LA a ton of times but have somehow not been into Hollywood, so it’s an easy choice on a nice sunny morning. We walk a little way down Hollywood Boulevard taking in the walk of the stars & the nearby Hollywood sign.

The Hollywood sign

Jen & I spend a day at Universal Studios, a park neither of us has been to in about ten years. A bunch of new rides and the hot California sun make for a great day.

Who else would I take a photo of?

Jen’s Dad runs a painting class and asks me to model for him (I know…) I sit still for just a few hours and am very impressed by the result.

Dan watercolor, done by Jim in a couple of hours

For Halloween night we go for my first night of trick-or-treating with all of the young children in the family.
For a reason I still don’t really understand, Jen has a huge bear costume in her car, so of course I throw it on and walk around the crowded streets, struggling to see the ground in front of me. I can’t believe the amount of effort people have put into decorating their houses, complete with strobe lights & smoke machines. The particular area we are in is very popular and there are literally hundreds of people walking up and down, parents trailing behind small children.

Dan's Halloween Costume

It’s a great week of fun, and I spend my down-time planning my crossing into Mexico. I’ve been running it over and over in my mind for a really long time now, so the only thing left to do is actually cross.

The Walk of Stars on Hollywood Blvd.

It’s time to step this trip up a little

-Dan

New York City Skyline

Highlights include:

• Going to a bar with all of Mum & Dad’s new friends in the city where Dad draws a picture on a placemat with the supplied crayons.
  “Tierra Del Fuego or bust” he calls it

Tierra Del Fuego or Bust

• Driving out to the little country town of Cold Spring on a beautiful sunny fall day. The leaves are seriously colorful here & we have a great day wandering around the quaint town.

Dan, Mum & Dad in Cold Spring

• Eating almost all of Mum & Dad’s Vegemite, an Australian spread. It’s been so long since I ate it I was unsure I would still like it. Vegemite turned out to be more delicious than I remembered.

• Catching up with my good friend Bari who I haven’t seen for too long. Hanging out with a part time bar tender makes me a part time regular for a while…

• Cooking dinner together in their tiny kitchen most nights.

Dinner with Mum, Dad & Bari

• Spending sunny afternoons in Central park walking, throwing a football & reading.

• Walking over the Brooklyn Bridge at night & playing with my camera. I’ve been trying to take some good night shots for a while now, and I’m really proud of how it turned out. Next time I find the perfect location for a photo of blurry headlights and taillights I’ll be good to go.

The bridges of New York City

The Brooklyn Bridge

I find it really hard to say goodbye when time is up. I’m going to miss my Mum & Dad a lot in the coming months, but having their full support makes it way easier for me.
I know I have to see them more often than I have been lately.

On the Hudson River

Watching the new Pixar animated movie “Up” on the flight back is a great reminder of what living your dreams is all about. I think the Jeep is pretty similar to a house floating with 3 billion balloons, and heading to South America sounds like a pretty good idea to me

-Dan

About ten years ago I stayed at the Luxor, at the southern end of the strip and my memory of the area is spot on. All the major hotels, attractions and elevated walkways are just as I remember them, with thousands of people eagerly getting around. My jaw falls open as I drive the northern end of the strip, a totally different place from ten years ago. I catch every red light as I make my way, allowing plenty of time to stare in awe at the enormity of it all. Buildings and super screens almost entirely cover the road and there are literally hundreds of thousands of people roaming around, at 2pm on a Monday no less. I’m so stunned by the insanity of it all I completely forget to take any photos.

I continue on Interstate 15 all the way into the suburbs of Los Angeles, where I meet up with Jen & Greg, long time family friends. They’ve had a baby boy since I last saw them, and I’m completely engrossed playing with Christopher for an entire day.

My Mum & Dad have recently moved from small town Australia to New York City, their adventurous children apparently rubbing off on them. The relative closeness now combined with not seeing them for two and a half years means a detour to see them is high on my list of things to do. I leave the Jeep with my friends and set out to fly cross-country for a ten day holiday from my life-holiday

It’s a huge day of traveling for me and I have a few experiences that stick out:

• I find for the first time in my life I’m quite apprehensive about flying. When I think about it for a while it occurs to me I’ve been completely in control of my own destination for the last four months, and I am not comfortable giving that up.
• Lunch and dinner are both served to me in plastic containers wrapped in plastic containers wrapped in … you get the idea. When I’m finished, the un-used salt, pepper, hot sauce, ketchup & napkins are all mindlessly swept into the trash. I’m dumbfounded by this needless waste and it occurs to me I have just used up more resources in two meals than I normally would in a week. I watch as the same story is repeated over and over for every person on the plane.
  I don’t know why the world works like this, and I really hope we can change sooner rather than later.
• I finish reading “Travels with Charlie” by John Steinbeck, a throughly enjoyable account of Steinbeck’s road trip around America in 1960. He does a fantastic job describing the personality of such a journey that makes me smile from ear to ear.
• I read “The Last Lecture” from start to finish in about two and a half hours and am very strongly affected by it. When Randy Pausch learnt he had terminal cancer he decided to give his last lecture, titled “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams”. It’s an amazing book, which I think everyone should read as soon as possible.
  You can read more of Randy’s story at www.thelastlecture.com

My eyes are drooping when I finally get to Mum & Dad’s apartment in Manhattan, which does nothing to lessen the jubilant mood we find ourselves in at 1am.
There is lots to say about New York City, until then I’ll leave you with a photo I took from the Brooklyn Bridge, with a 30 second exposure. The big bright light on the left is the moon

New York City skyline as seen from the Brooklyn Bridge

-Dan

At Red Mountain, BC (xmas day 2006)

Mike was one of the first people I talked to when I first dreamed of this adventure and he’s been my strongest supporter ever since. Without his help, I’m not sure I’d be doing what I am today. Lately we’ve pushing each other more and more with the world adventure bit and I can’t wait to see what Mike comes up with next.

Having just lost an egg throwing contest at Club Getaway (2007)

I’m extremely lucky to have Mike for a brother, and even luckier that he’s one of my best friends.

Mike and Dan starting The West Coast Trail (2009)

I’ll call you today Mike!

-Dan

• Dry out all my wet stuff, including my boots.
• Repair a broken tent pole with my last spare piece.
• Work on my tan.
• Read huge amounts of “Travels with Charley” by John Steinbeck, a book I can’t put down.
• Finally work on my dreadlocks – they’ve been pretty ratty lately.

In the morning I am up early, in anticipation of the mighty Canyon that lies ahead. A stop at the visitors center is disappointing when I find it nothing more than a glorified book store – all of my questions are answered with suggestions of books I should buy; “But it’s only $49.95″ I am told eagerly.
Thanks, but no thanks.

Fall colors in force

Friends said the North Kaibab Trail is the way to go on the North Rim, so I set out down the trail, only really knowing that it’s steep and drops some serious elevation. I think I’ve overdone the rock and canyon formations this week and so am not particularly impressed with the view from the North Rim. When I was about 16 I visited the South Rim and my memories of that are a lot more spectacular than the view I have now. I think it’s because I am a long way from the Colorado River here and ‘the canyon proper’, so it’s not as immense as it can be in other places.

More pretty rock formations

I power downhill as fast as I possibly can, knowing it’s going to be much harder and hotter on the way back up. Every step I take down I can feel the air temperature going up, as it reaches a solid 87 ˚F. Almost everyone that I pass has a huge pack and are planning on spending at least a couple of nights at the canyon floor before hiking up to the South Rim. The trail is wide and dusty, and drops elevation in a serious fashion.

The canyon wall

I drop 3215 ft (1000 meters) to Roaring Springs, a quiet shady spot perfect for lunch. I feel like I’ve seen enough and so begin the long walk back to the top. It’s not impossibly hard, but it’s not easy either, and a steady rhythm helps me through the time.

The Grand part is out there in the distance

The campground shower is only $1.50, a bargain after another big day of hiking. Before long I find myself back on my little bluff eating huge smokies with ketchup/mustard/relish, my favorite meal on the road.

The trail drops steeply to the canyon floor

-Dan

I don’t even wear a watch any more, so waking up to an alarm is very strange for me. I’ve been in the Mountain Time Zone for nearly a month now, and my watch and clock in the jeep are still set on the wrong time zone. At 5am sunrise is so far away the sky does not even have a hint of light yet, just a smattering of stars visible above Zion Canyon. I met Mike the day before hiking Angel’s Landing and we rendezvous at the visitors center, then set out for the 90 minute drive to Chamberlain’s Ranch Trailhead, immensely thankful for car heaters.

The air has a cold bite as we set off with our tiny day packs and not much gear, knowing we have a massive day of difficult hiking ahead. At the first river crossing about a hundred feet away I play the rock hopping game to keep my heavy leather boots dry as long as possible.
One thought repeats over and over in my mind; it’s not going to last.

Mike in the wide canyon

The first hour of walking is on a jeep trail in an open valley, and we both eagerly point and smile when we see the canyon walls slowly creeping up from the ground. The Virgin River soon identifies itself to us, and we’re crossing and crossing again in no time.
When told the river is running at 54˚F (12˚C), we cried out in unison “Sounds perfect!”
It’s not.
It’s cold.

At times the fall colors were brilliant, making us think we were out for a stroll

Stumbling along with our numb feet we quickly realize the task of the day is river crossings. At this early stage of the canyon, only one side rises vertically to an impossible height, while the other side is wide open and flat. With every bend the river takes, the sides are continually swapping and therefore so are we. The river here is only shin deep at best and not flowing with any real urgency, so we make good time and arrive at “First Narrows” ahead of schedule.

Mike entering First Narrows

We’ve been able to see the sun shining on the canyon walls all morning, but it’s been too narrow and steep to allow the warmth to reach us. We’re grinning like mad when we see a patch of sunlight beaming on the hillside that we can reach and perch there for our first snack break, trying to thaw our feet.

About to enter First Narrows

Not surprisingly, First Narrows is the first time the canyon walls close in and are completely vertical, forcing us to walk right down the river. I can’t touch both walls at the same time, but it’s close. We agree it would be a riot to jump off the 15 foot waterfall into the turquoise pool below, shivering uncontrollably as we walk around it.

The waterfall in First Narrows

The canyon opens up again and we hike for many hours, endless crossing the river, hopping over rocks and crossing the river again. All the while it’s gaining water, making it grow in depth and intensity. The crossings are turning into wading, and both of us hesitate when it’s obviously over our waist. We backtrack and try the other side, only to find it even deeper. Mike takes one for the team and goes first – grimacing on tippy toes the whole way.

Mike trying to avoid the deeper turquoise water

We continue in this fashion for a long time, never really going above our waists – but it was never going to last. Walking in the river is much harder than I anticipated – the bottom is strewn with rocks of all sizes that move when stepped on, and the flowing water is white and impossible to see through. We silently know a fall is all but inevitable. Mike takes a tiny goat track high above the river, which I really don’t like the look of. Maybe if I back track five minutes I’d find a way around the other side, but I’ve been kinda looking for an excuse to swim all morning.

The impressive canyon walls

I take off my pack, hold it high above my head with one hand and forge ahead aiming for the far bank, only 15 feet away. When the bottom drops out from under me I get a huge shock and realize it’s a lot harder to tread water with one hand while wearing heavy leather hiking boots than I thought. I’m fighting hard to keep my mouth above the water and think seriously about ditching my pack, while Mike looks on helplessly from above. I manage to struggle across with a dry pack, and it occurs to me what a stupid thing I just did. I was never going to drown, but I was cold before I started and now I’m really cold.

Precious sunlight at the canyon top

Pretty soon I’m shivering hard and decide the only thing for it is to keep moving while rubbing my core and thinking warm thoughts. We continue in the same vein, passing Big Spring and reach The Narrows – the insanely narrow, steep section of the canyon that makes this hike so famous. Walking in the river for extended periods is absolutely mandatory as the walls tower over a thousand feet above our heads.

Big Spring

The canyon here is steeper, taller and more colorful than anything we’ve seen yet and it’s clearly the highlight of the day. It’s possible to reach this section of the canyon by hiking up from the main park area and we soon start seeing the odd person, then more and more until it’s quite busy. We realize our huge day is coming to an end, so we subconsciously slow down, trying to soak in every last minute possible. Everyone else has rented hiking poles, dry suits and massive camera setups and are trying to avoid the deeper water like the plague. We throughly enjoy looking freakishly out of place as we wade through the deepest parts of the river in shorts, grinning from ear to ear.

The Narrows, which are

Sloshing along the hike out in soaking wet gear attracts some great scowls and looks of genuine surprise and even fear from other park visitors. The remainder of the day is filled with riding the bus back to the visitors center, picking up my Jeep, driving to get Mike’s car and then all the way back.

"The Narrows"

With very limited stops it took us nine hours of solid hiking, and all told it’s a fifteen hour round trip day from the visitors center.

Zion Narrows was an amazing day hike, in my opinion clearly worthy of it’s top ten world ranking.

-Dan

Zion has a really great setup where you park at the visitor’s center or the nearby town of Springdale and catch a free bus anywhere you want to go. The canyon is so small and popular this is really the only way to deal with the number of people, and it works really really well. A bus shows up every few minutes and makes about ten stops on the way up the canyon, then the same on the return loop. Driving up the canyon in a bus is also a great way to look around and really soak in the views, while listening to commentary about what you can see.

I’ve heard how crazy of a hike Angel’s Landing is, so I’m well prepared with a couple of liters of water, snacks, hiking boots & my waterproof shell. I get a bit confused and think I’m going the wrong way when I see family groups, small children and people in jeans and city shoes.

The view along Zion Canyon

It turns out the first four and a half miles are relatively family friendly. I do need to clarify that – it’s nice and wide, well trafficked and well maintained and it’s also steep. Ridiculously steep. Right from the get-go the switchbacks start and they don’t let up until I break out onto a landing, apparently where most people stop and turn around. I’m impressed when a hiker overtakes me on the steep incline, something that doesn’t happen very often.

Zion Canyon as seen from the top

I’m of course going to the very top and so begin the final half mile which is equally as steep, about 20 feet wide and with at least a thousand foot vertical drop on both sides. Chains have been placed into the rock, which come in very handy on more than a few occasions.
I consider myself very confident with my footing, even at these heights.
I’m still holding on

It's a long way down

The busy trail makes the going slow as we have to stop for people coming down and co-ordinate who gets to hold on and who has to let go and find their own way. It’s clear the children and non-hikers have all turned around before now and I’m moving up with only dedicated hikers. Every step the view gets better and better, and my eyes bulge further and further from my head.

The ridge and surrounds

Of course I walk all the way out to the very highest end point of the ridge and am rewarded with an amazing view up and down Zion Canyon. Even more impressive is the view of the ridge I have just hiked up – it looks more narrow now that I thought. I sit and enjoy the sun for an hour, munching on my snacks and chatting to all the hikers coming and going.

Standing on the top, very aware of the drop behind me

I meet Mike, the hiker who overtook me earlier and we quickly discover we are both living the same kind of life. Mike quit his engineering job a couple of years ago and has been traveling around ever since, seeing the world. His latest adventures have him living out of his car across America and by now he has seen almost all the National Parks. You can check out his travel website at www.mypinkyup.com, the name of which comes from his permanently damaged little finger courtesy of some muggers in Columbia.

Mike and I are both excited to hike the biggest, baddest, bestest trail Zion has to offer and eagerly sign up for the next morning.
Signing five different waivers about the dangers only makes us more excited….

-Dan

Bryce National Park is a completely different story. I chat to a really cool ranger at the visitors center who quickly realizes I’m the no-nonsense, no-frills kind of visit. She recommends a couple of solid day hikes for me, the first with amazing scenery and tons of people, the second is almost as impressive and has no people. I smile when the ranger realizes lack of people is a good thing for me.

Looking down on Bryce Canyon

First up I hit the ‘The Figure 8′ trail, a combination of three different trails for a total of 6.4 miles of reportedly strenuous hiking (defined as steep grades with MULTIPLE elevation changes). From the very outset at Sunrise Point I am extremely impressed with Bryce Canyon & the thousands of hoodoos within. A hoodoo is a pillar of rock left behind when the canyon eroded away something like 10 million years ago. Each hoodoo is amazingly unique in size, shape and the colors that go into it’s makeup.

The hoodoos are freaky when compared to regular mountains

I wander down the very popular & busy Queens Garden Trail, right into the middle of some amazingly breathtaking formations. Hoodoos begin to surround me as a walk down and down, all the way to the canyon floor. It’s busy here, and it’s easy to see why – the scenery is stunning and the sun is beaming down on us.

Every one is a different blend of colors

More and more

I continue on to the Navajo Trail, then the steep and quiet Peekaboo Loop. The trails climb up to almost the top of the canyon then descend right back to the bottom time after time, weaving in and out of hoodoos and strange rock formations the entire time.

Hoodoos close up

Wall Street, Bryce Canyon

I wind up back at the Jeep for a hot lunch, then set out on The Fairyland Loop, 8 miles of again strenuous walking up and down the canyon, in and out of the hoodoos. Just as the ranger said, this trail is not quite as scenic, and the major difference is I don’t see another hiker the entire time.

Through the looking glass

The Tower Bridge at Bryce

It turns out to be a big day of hiking in beautiful sunshine and I melt in my sleeping bag after a $2 shower at the campground.

The vista over the canyon

Wall of hoodoos at Bryce

-Dan

I’m not much of a 4×4 enthusiast; I bought the Jeep as a vehicle to get me where I want to be, not so much to tear up the countryside driving it back and forward. That being said, I did some great hiking in Arches and it only seems fair to let Jeep have a run as well. I’m told to take the Shafer trail down 400 vertical meters (1,400 ft.) to the White Rim mesa, explore around for a while and follow the Potash Road out to Moab.

The Shafer Trail winds down

I first head to the overlook to get a good idea of what I’m in for. No doubt about it, the trail goes down
The canyon is mighty big and impressive too.

The scale of the canyon was ridiculous

The trail is a mix of red dirt, loose rock and occasionally flat rock slabs. Never was it an actual test for my Jeep, only how much bouncing and jarring could I tolerate. I slowly drive around the rim and begin the decent into the switchbacks. In first gear the Jeep rolls much too fast and after a little experimenting I find low range second gear to be the perfect gear. A pathfinder passes in the opposite direction, the only other people I would see all trail.

On the Shafer Trail

Did someone say it was steep?

Once on the canyon floor I make my way around the White Rim Road a little way to checkout the Colorado River. The short walk out to the lookout is well worth the effort, the mighty river another 200 meters (700 ft.) below.

The mighty Colorado River

I slowly back-track along the rim and head out the Potash Road. I might have underestimated how long it was all going to take and find the light fading quickly. Before long I’m driving along in the pitch black, bouncing and jarring over unseen obstacles. I guess my way at every intersection and find my way to civilization on the first attempt.

The lush green river seems so out of place

The rock formations are amazing

It was an awesome afternoon, and Jeep and I sleep soundly.

Jeep and Dan loving Canyonlands

-Dan

Infront of the Grand Tetons

I cross the small river in bare feet, which immediately go completely numb. I jump up and down on the spot for a few minutes inducing painful pins and needles while trying to eye off the soaking potential of the spring. Hot water flows 5 meters (15 feet) down a rock face to a two-person rock pool. Every attempt has been made to deny access to the river water, but I quickly find the attempt is futile. I soak for only five minutes, unable to tolerate the uncooperative freezing water finding it’s way in from bottom of the pool.
The setting is first class, very close to the spectacular falls and I’m sure the spring can be amazing, when the river is cooperating.

Granite Hot Spring

I camp nearby, at a beautiful campsite on the river’s edge and endure another night well below freezing. My tent is covered by a thick sheet of ice in the morning so I am happy to linger in the morning sun while it slowly melts and evaporates.

I’ve been thinking about it over and over and today is the day – I want to drive a long way south to escape the relentless advance of winter. I find Wyoming a beautiful, relaxed state and am pleased I get to drive the length of it from north to south. Entering Utah the mountains fade in my mirrors and give way to arid desert, with bizarre rock formations the likes of which I have never before seen.
The earth here is bright red, desert red, and I am strongly reminded of the town I grew up in in rural Australia.

Words can’t convey how elated I am to be out hiking in shorts and t-shirt upon my arrival in Arches National Park – the first time I’ve felt the hot sun in what feels like weeks. I’ve been looking forward to a solid hike and set out to tackle the Devil’s Garden Loop, 8.8 miles of packed sightseeing. The trail begins wide and flat allowing for the many hundreds of people making the short trip to Landscape Arch, a clear and deserving favorite. Soon the trail is narrow & faint as it twists and turns it’s way from one natural arch to the next.

Landscape Arch

Double O Arch

The loop is very spectacular and it feels great to pound out a fast pace in the hot morning sun.

The view through Partition Arch

Typical of the landscape in Arches

I’m told Delicate Arch is one of the best in the park and so I find it impossible to pass up the 3 mile uphill hike. I’m surprised when I soon pass a sign “Petroglyphs”, leading down a small, unused trail. I’ve always found things of this nature extremely interesting and can’t believe more people are not taking the tiny detour. I find the drawings (circa 1650-1850) extremely clear and detailed and can’t believe there is not another person in sight!

Petroglyphs clear as can be

The hike up is very impressive, climbing over rock, sand and skirting the edge of a very high cliff with no safety fences in sight. The arch itself is impressive to say the least, so I sit to enjoying it, chatting to a German couple for the better part of an hour.

Delicate Arch

I’ve had a really good feeling for the entire day and it’s capped off sitting on the warm rocks in the early afternoon chatting and laughing so easily.

Loving the sunshine at Arches

It turns out my National Park Grand Tour™ is just warming up…

Window Arch in the distance

-Dan

Driving across Idaho

I briefly touch into Montana and enter the park at West Yellowstone – what a zoo that place is. It has one of every tourist trap possible and then some. I am strongly reminded of Niagara Falls on the Canadian side.

Upon entering the park, I learn that three major roads are closed; one for roadwork for the season, one because they can’t find a snow plow and one because there is a ton of smoke on the road from a nearby forest fire. This last one does open for very short periods a couple of times a day, so I’ll have to actually plan ahead if I want to make it to the North end of the park.

I start out driving South, through the geothermal region of the park. I knew about the geyser called Old Faithful, but I had no idea the amount of geothermal activity in the park. There are six or eight places to stop and walk along a boardwalk to see countless hot springs, geysers and geothermal activity in general.

Geothermal colors are everywhere

Being such a hot spring nut I’m overjoyed with all of this and happily wander around taking everything in. It is so cold outside steam is everywhere, sometimes so thick it’s difficult to see the boardwalk I’m trying to stay on. It snows lightly on and off throughout the day.

Steam was rising in every direction

Most of the geysers are steaming, sometimes bubbling a little and the occasional one is fully erupting, spitting boiling hot water and steam high into the air. Extremely inviting turquoise pools dot the landscape in every direction.

Beautiful turquoise pool

One of my favorite features are small holes in the ground, that are bubbling and steaming quite violently. The noise is close to a roar and some are so loud it’s impossible to carry a conversation with the person standing next to you.

Mini geyser bubbling away

There are literally thousands of people and cars getting around the park, including full tour buses complete with a mega-phone wielding guide who’s goal in life seemed to be irritation. To give you an idea of the sheer volume of people in the park, the ‘exit’ for Old Faithful is a full-blow freeway overpass, complete with on and off ramps.
Yep, all of that inside a National Park.

Geyser in full eruption

I arrive at Old Faithful in time to see the tail end of an eruption, water and steam being shot 10 meters (30 feet) into the air. I wander around and find myself on a hiking trail up behind Old Faithful to a lookout, that continues to more springs and geysers. There are no people here and it’s really nice to have some alone time for the first time in the park.

Old Faithful in 'natural' setting

The walk is really beautiful and I find myself at Solitary Geyser – a fairly tame looking pool with the occasional bubble rising to the surface. The information sign says it erupts about every five to seven minutes, so I sit down on a log and wait for the show. The bubbles become more frequent, so I get my camera ready, not sure what to expect. Without any further warning the entire pool rises up as a huge ‘bubble’ in a single massive outburst. I’m sitting close enough that my boots get wet when the hot water comes back down and the pool is completely still again.
That was cool.

Solitary geyser gave me a scare when it errupted

Mystic falls, with steam at the top

I set up camp and cook dinner in the pitch black while it’s snowing heavily.

‘OK’, I think
‘I’ve had enough of this winter camping’.

In the morning I intentionally sleep in till 9am, waiting for the sun to rise to warm everything up. The thermometer hanging in the Jeep says -12 ˚C (10 ˚F) and even my full 35 liter water container is almost frozen solid. Yep, I thought it was cold last night

It was hard not to jump in...

The road closures mean it will take an entire day of driving to get to Mammoth Hot Springs at the north end of the park, a place that comes very highly recommended. A lot of snow fell last night, so I would not be surprised if more roads are now closed. I completely lose feeling in my hands while packing up camp, which helps me make the decision I was already leaning towards…

I’m driving South, right now.

I enjoyed what I saw of Yellowstone, but I can’t help thinking something is a little wrong with the place. Many thousands of people were driving around, shuffling out of their cars for a few minutes before driving around to the next place. I saw plenty of people that didn’t even get out, taking photos from inside their cars.
I’ve come to think of it as ‘drive-thru wilderness’ – that sounds crazy I know, but that’s exactly how it is.
I’m sure it would be a different story if I hit some of the back-country hiking trails.

This one was really deep

What’s next? I don’t know, something South. I hope it warms up soon

-Dan

I’ve been told by many different people about Goldbug (Elk Bend) Hot Spring and I’ve seen enough pictures and heard many stories that make it a must visit. I get stuck into the scenic two mile hike, walking up a rocky valley the whole time. Most of the way is a gradual climb and the last half mile is very steep.
I can absolutely say it was worth the hike!

The view from the springs

A very high flow of hot water emerges from the ground right near a natural little creek. The water mixes and flows down over rocks and through pools getting cooler and cooler as it goes down further

Goldbug is wedged in a steep rocky valley

A couple of different hot sources mean that pools on the right are hotter than pools on the left. The pools are constructed entirely with natural rock – no cement or plastic here. Each pool has a gravel bottom and the high flow rate keeps them very clean and free of slime and algae.

Flowing down the valley

I have the entire place to myself and wander around for half an hour testing all the different pools and taking photos. I soak for many hours, not really aware of time passing at all.

There are numerous pools to choose from

My favorite pool is about shoulder deep when sitting/lying down and has a rock on the edge at a perfect 45 degree angle for leaning on. Looking at the freshly snow capped mountains and the storm clouds roll by is the definition of relaxation.

Twin crystal clear soaking pools (my favourite)

It snows very lightly for a minute, adding to the aura of the whole place.

I’ve tried many times to come up with a rating system for natural hot springs, but have never been satisfied with the result. Lets look at some of the characteristics I like to consider:

• Accessibility – Not too easy and not impossible, just right.
• Temperature – Some pools above body temp all the way down to river temp. 10/10.
• Number of pools – About ten of a decent temperature, plenty.
• Crowdedness – All to myself
• Flow rate – More than high enough.
• Human impact – One wooden bridge is visible. No trash, no plastic & no concrete. 95%.
• Water quality – Completely odorless and crystal clear. Could not be better.
• View while soaking – See for yourself. I say Breathtaking.

The view while soaking

What does all that rambling mean? I’m not entirely sure.
It would be a very big call to say it’s the best natural hot spring I’ve ever been to, but it just might be.
Maybe.

-Dan

So much for escaping winter...

I had hoped to make the hike into Bear Valley Hot Springs, but another road closure meant it was out of the question, so I continue hunting elsewhere. Back on the highway the Sawtooth Mountains jump out at me like they are alive. I’m not sure if it’s the fresh coat of snow, strange lighting or my cold altered brain, but I think these pictures capture it well.

The mighty Sawtooth Mountains

The fresh coat of snow adds something I think

Something about the lighting too

First up for the day is Elkhorn Hot Spring, aka. The “Boat Box”. My guidebook mentions an all-important cold water feed which I can’t locate. The water feels waaaaay too hot and it’s snowing hard so I move on without a soak.

The extremely hot tub at Elkhorn Hot Spring

Basin Creek (Kem) Hot Spring is just a little down the road and sits between the highway and the river. A small amount of hot water feeds some natural rock pools right at river level. Again I can’t seem to find a ‘just right’ pool, so I move on.

The pools at Basin Creek Hot Spring

Ample amounts of very hot water flow under the highway and feed several rock pools at Sunbeam Hot Springs. I’m eager for my first soak of the day and jump in without really testing the temperature of each pool. I’m a little disappointed to find this is another where the spring water is so hot and the river water so cold it’s difficult to find the sweet spot. I stay barely five minutes, not long enough to even warm up.

Rock pools at Sunbeam Hot Spring

The snow is coming down hard now, so much so that driving is becoming a two-handed affair as the Jeep gets skittish around corners. I’m seriously weighing my options here… should I continue North to possibly the best hot spring in Idaho and across to Yellowstone or should I bail on the whole idea and jet South ASAP?
When it snows hard I want to drive South, when it clears a little, I want to continue North.

You know I’ll make the right decision

-Dan

Campground Hot Spring, not much to look at but a great soak

Next up is Pine Flats Hot Spring, just a little way down the same highway. A short walk is required from a campground to the beautiful setting at the spring. Hot water flows down a rock face into the river for a few hundred meters, with dozens of different hot sources. A rock pool has been made in the gravel bar on the side of the river, but it’s a little on the cold side.

The first soaking pool at Pine Flats Hot Spring

Walking further along the river for a hundred feet or so yields the goods – a 30 foot hot waterfall drops directly into a crystal clear soaking pool at the ideal temperature. The setting here is amazing right on the side of the bubbling river, with not a person or man made object in sight and I had a fantastic soak.
The whole area reminded me a lot of Dewar Creek Hot Spring in British Columbia.

The magic pool below the waterfall at Pine Flats Hot Spring

I reluctantly pulled myself away, promising another spring quickly
The very popular Kirkham Hot Spring is next on my list  – again this spring sits on the bank of the same river, just on the other side. A campground and day use area provide access, where ample hot water flows over rocks into the river. Around ten haphazard pools had been created, and it was clear they come and go with the height of the river.

Kirkham Hot Spring pools riverside

It is a quiet day and I shared my soak with two other people, who were happy to recommend my next stop. I spot some great swimming holes in the river which would be amazing on a hot day.

Kirkham Hot Spring falls

I eat lunch quickly and move onto the much-hyped Bonneville Hot Spring. This one is a couple of miles off the main highway and again a campground and day use area are close by. A short walk along the creek leads to a kind of meadow where a staggering amount of very very hot water gushes out of the hillside, across the meadow and cascades over a rock ledge to many pools below. A single wooden bathing house sits in the meadow, but I am not interested in being inside.

The hillside at Bonneville Hot Spring, bathing house visible in background

The pools close to the waterfalls are much too hot for me, so I wander downstream to find pools that have a good mix of hot and creek cold. Unfortunately Bonneville suffers from being too hot, which sounds crazy I know.

The soaking pools at Bonneville Hot Spring

I couldn’t find the sweet spot, so one side of me is scalding hot while the other is freezing cold. The spring came very highly recommended though, so I can only assume I came at the wrong time in terms of the height of the creek water.

A lonesome pool upstream at Bonneville

My last stop for the day is Sacajawea Hot Spring, a small detour down some forest roads. About ten or so rock pools have been made on the side of a river that catch the hot spring water trickling down. Rocks can be adjusted to allow in more or less river water to find the perfect soaking temperature. This spring is quite different from the others I’ve seen in that there was not an abundance of hot water, no waterfalls and also the soaking area is very open so there is no feeling of being cramped in like some of the others. I stay for hours, lying around in the perfect temperature shallow pools.

Riverside soaking is the way at Sacajawea Hot Spring

I find a great back country campsite on the side of a small creek with no one around for miles and for the first time in a long time I can really feel the cold in the air. Pretty soon I am wearing all my thermals and rain gear as it starts to pour.

I pull the strings on my sleeping bag into full mummy mode throughly excited for the cold – for some reason I feel more adventurous when the going gets a little tougher.

If only I knew how cold it was going to get…

-Dan

Arriving at the spring I’m excited to meet Ken and Harley, the two guys that made the spring usable back in 1995. They carried up about 50 bags of cement and a ton of piping, fittings and valves all by themselves to create pools just perfect for soaking. The majority of the plumbing is used to actually divert hot water, there is so much of it. It’s cool to chat to these two hot spring old-timers about the pros and cons of building up a hot spring with concrete and plastic Vs. leaving it entirely natural. We also discuss the problems associated with attracting the ‘loud music & beer’ crowd.

The hot water source at Skinnydipper Hot Spring

I soak for an hour or two then wander around the area investigating the source and all the plumbing. I didn’t get any pics of the soaking pools because, well, they were in use at the time

Some of the runoff at Skinnydipper Hot Spring

All-in-all a fantastic hot spring with some really friendly people to chat to.

Everyone highly recommended Rocky Canyon Hot Spring, so off I went. This spring has also had quite a lot of work done – a few years ago a guy singlehandedly built many swallow-like pools on the side of a steep rock face to make for some superb soaking. The upper pools are just too warm for me to stay completely submerged, and they drop maybe a degree for each successive pool down so finding the perfect spot is not too difficult. Each pool has a drain pipe with plug and any overflow just goes right down to the next pool. They also have a very fine sandy bottom which is perfect for eliminating slime. The spring water is crystal clear, has not even a trace of sulfur smell and there is plenty of it.

The river and pools at Rocky Canyon Hot Spring

Getting to the spring requires a walk across the river, which at this time of year was not more than a foot deep, but quite cold.
I stay two days at this spring at times having it all to myself, other times meeting people, chatting and watching families of ducks navigate the little rapids on the river. One family had so much fun, they got out, walked back to the top and did it all again – at times the little guys were going completely underwater, and they seemed to love it!

The choices are hard to beat at Rocky Canyon Hot Spring

Rocky Canyon is definitely in my top five all time favorites.

The hot spring hunting continues…

-Dan

Interstate driving. I’d forgotten how endless and soul sucking it can be. Remind me not to do this again. The highlight comes when I pass the following sign:

45th Parallel. Halfway between the North Pole and The Equator

‘Ooo! Equator.’ ‘I’m going there.’
I think out loud to myself, grinning from ear to ear and struggling a little with the idea.

I’ve only seen the Western, coastal side of Oregon so being this far East is fascinating. The West is entirely different – very arid and barren. I drive through Hells Canyon, an amazing place that makes me think I’m in a desert.

Hells Canyon

It turns out that Idaho has the vast majority of the hot springs in North America, something that caught my attention a few years ago when I good hooked on springs. I’ve been wanting to make a trip across the state in search of hot water for a long time and that time is now. I plan to move East across the state, taking people’s advice on which spring I should visit next. I don’t know how long it will take or how many springs I’ll see and that’s the best part

I start out with Council Mountain Hot Spring – a solid 2 mile hike is required up to the spring. Massive amounts of extremely hot water are coming out of the side of a rock face and flowing down to mix with a creek.

Hike to Council Mountain Hot Spring

The mixing pools are fast moving, bubbling swirling affairs that are not unlike a hot tub. Between the pools the rocks are coated in slime and moss making for some fun natural hot water slides from pool to pool. If this is what I can expect from hot springs in Idaho then bring it on!

Council Mountain Hot Spring

I move a little further East and camp at White Licks Hot Spring. Two old shacks cover concrete holes in the ground that have both a hot and cold water feed. Not my idea of a good hot spring, but a beautiful little campground on the side of a creek.

Council Mountain Hot Spring Pools

Over the next week or so there will be plenty of hot water updates

-Dan

Dan & Jeff too early in the morning...

I catch up to Jeff, Randy and Paul halfway through floating the Clackamas River on an amazing 90 degree day. I appear very briefly in the following video, taken by Paul while floating that afternoon. I think it gives a pretty clear picture of how much fun we are having – tons!

I stay with Jeff, his girlfriend Andee and cousin Mikey for about ten days, during which time we get into all sorts of trouble and have any number of adventures. I was very remiss with my camera and have photos of next to nothing. My memories are also slightly foggy just for fun.

I’ll do by best to recount the highlights:

• Mikey inviting us to party on a boat moored in the marina. Mikey passed out before we arrived, leaving us to endlessly sing the hilarious lines from “I’m on a boat” and generally cause trouble in downtown Portland.(If you haven’t seen the video for that song, go watch it now)

• Our traditional Bagby Hot Springs trip – Jeff ended up fighting the forest, I walked into camp long after the sun had come up minus one flip-flop, Jeff lost his cell phone and we all laugh hysterically and shake our heads whenever we mention the trip.

Bagby hot springs

• Many, many rounds of disc golf on practically every nearby course. We played multiple rounds at Pier Park, Lunchtime, Timber Park, Rooster Rock and the incredibly long McIver Park. One hole at McIver is a 1,186 feet par 5! I played a minimum of 18 holes every single day, which improved my game a lot.

• Games of pool with Spencer – at one time winning competitions was his full time job and I’ve never seen anyone that can play like him. In our first game he ran the table off the break, never once looking like he was even trying. Everything he does is very well thought out and he’s very happy to share and answer the ten thousand questions I throw at him.

• Driving everyone to work then having to find my own way home through downtown Portland. I got lost twice, but having nowhere else to be meant I enjoyed the drive all the more

• Going fishing in a stocked pond and paying for the fish we caught. Three extremely fresh fish for $11 is a pretty good deal if you ask me.

• Randy and I took a drive down to hike the Silver Falls loop trail – a trail that boasts ten waterfalls in only eight miles. The hike was fantastic and we decided the two dry falls should just be called cliffs.

Randy admiring a waterfall

Once again I had an awesome time in Portland and can’t wait to see the crew again sometime.

The afternoon sun was brilliant

-Dan

I’ve picked up Mike’s cold and I am tired, hungry and grumpy when I arrive in the USA in the dark – what better place to cheer me up than a Hot Spring? I camp inside Olympic National Park and make my way to the spring first thing in the morning. The walk in is a beautiful couple of miles through thick forest. There are around ten natural rock pools strung out for a few hundred yards above a bubbling creek below. Most pools are about ten feet across, a foot or two deep and right in the perfect body temperature range.

Olympic Hot Spring 1

I soak for hours in the cool morning, thinking about nothing in particular.

Olympic Hot Spring 2

I move slowly down the Washington coast with a couple of days of annoying on-again, off-again rain and before long everything is soaked, even my cold affected mood. Every chance I get I’m drying things on the hood of the Jeep which is very effective – my tent takes only 20 minutes from soaked to bone dry which is a relief.

I get a message on my website from Shane and Amy who spotted my Jeep in a shopping center parking lot. They spent a year driving around the USA and were very keen to meet a fellow road-tripper. On their site, www.ayearatthewheel.com you can read how they drove around the country just before the election gathering thoughts and opinions from people from all walks of life. They did all this with less than $200 in their pocket. We chat all afternoon and long into the night about everything and nothing all at the same time. It’s very inspiring to meet people that are so aware of their surroundings and the choices that can be made every day.

Astoria and the mouth of the Columbia river

I continue south into Oregon and camp a night near Astoria, a beautiful seaside town on the mouth of the Columbia River. The Oregon coastline is every bit as beautiful as I remember and I’m in no real hurry to go anywhere.

Swell rolling into the Oregon coast

-Dan

My brother Dan has been road tripping for a while now. He is a few months into his epic 50 000km odyssey; driving and hiking to find special places and people (or what I like to call ZenFun). Ever since he and I have been traveling the world we have had a friendly rivalry around who can do something more epic than the other. Right now he is taking the cake – and eating it too!!

So when he got close to my current home in Nelson, BC it was crystal clear that I would meet up with him and ‘live the road’ for a while.

My role in our journey revealed itself over time to be:

• To make Dan look buff in photos
• To remind us how glad we are to be alive by evoking death threats from young girls’ fathers
• To help Dan blow his budget sky high
• To discuss the meaning of life as if I have a clue

None of these were intentional, but sometimes you just go with what you’re given!!

I rolled into Pemberton, BC on my BMW motorcycle to be greeted by a tanned looking guy with a huge smile. It was Dan, but somehow different. You could almost see an inner calm and contentment in his relaxed but confident gait. Maybe it was because he was not wearing shoes or shirt. Maybe it was that I was really happy to see him. In any case we were stoked to see each other. We each bubbled with our respective stories from the last couple of months since we’d seen each other in Northern Alberta, at tree planting camp.

Dan had plans to see hot springs and being the aficionado that he is meant that this would involve much more than a trip to a glorified swimming pool style resort.

It meant that we visited multiple naturally-developed hot springs and a totally undeveloped one at Frank creek that very few people have ever seen.

Upon thinking about Dan getting these directions from possibly the only person who knows them I found myself reflecting on how the universe seems to put the right things in the path of a person who is actively living life. Just like in Paulo Coelho’s beautiful little book The Alchemist where he talks about each person’s “Personal Legend”:

Central to the novel is the concept of a Personal Legend.
Santiago first learns of one’s  Personal Legend from The King of Salem, who tells him:

It’s what you have always wanted to accomplish. Everyone, when they are young, knows what their Personal  Legend is.

He expounds on this, saying

…there is one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it’s because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It’s your mission on earth.

The King also tells Santiago of the importance of following the omens on the journey to realizing one’s Personal Legend.”

So it seems that because Dan’s odyssey is authentic and genuine, it originated in the ‘soul of the universe’. Because it has come from the earth it means that things will naturally fall into place as they need to for him along the way. Not in the sense that he can put his feet up and wait for good things to happen, but in the sense that while he is living in this way, the universe will provide. Maybe not even to make his journey easy. But certainly to make it an adventure.

To me this idea of a Personal Legend doesn’t say that there is one specific meaningful thing that a person is to do in their lives, to me is says that if what you are doing is all that you can dream, without concession to fear or normalcy then it is the right thing to be doing and naturally, the universe will help you to do that, because you are living your life on the level of the universe. Another way of saying this might be to say that when you are living “the right way” you are a healthy and harmonious part of existence and the whole of the universe operates better around you.

…Wow!!  I like the sound of that – Yeah Dan!!

Following Dan’s Personal Legend then, we dropped my motorbike off in Horseshoe Bay (which proved to be expensive) and Ferried/Drove our way up the Sunshine Coast and across to Vancouver Island. We were finally closing in on the famed West Coast Trail and the sense of excitement was growing ever greater. The forest of Vancouver Island is so grand, so green, and so alive. The thought of living in this for a few days was inspiring!

When we arrived at the trail head we were told that the trail was full that day and we would not be able to start until the next day. Using our Zen approach, we made sure not to see this as a setback and were rewarded with a beautiful story.

After ‘the tourists’ left for their hike, Dan and I got chatting with the friendly Parks Officer. She shared some stories of rescue missions for hikers on the trail over the last few days; including being attacked by a swarm of wasps and having a camping stove explode in your face – woah!!

As we were parting she said

“Hang on guys; I have a video here that you just have to see”

Dan and I looked at each other and I could sense that this was an omen for us.

“Sure”
“Right On”
We replied in unison.

We sat down to a simple, low budget documentary called “Sombrio.” It tells the story of a community of squatters and surfers that lived for over 30 years at Sombrio beach on Vancouver Island’s West Coast (just south of the WCT). The film depicts the simple lives of the people and how they were forced out of their self-built homes in the late 1990’s when the Juan de Fuca trail was created through the area. This eclectic collection of people was able to form a functioning community in the wilderness using not much more than their wits and a respect for simplicity. The story really resonated with me. I too have become disenchanted by society. To me it is crazy to measure standard of living by how much each person consumes. This is but one example of how inhuman an industrialized society has become. Surely this doesn’t bring happiness? Is the answer to try to change society? Is the answer to leave it? I sure loved seeing an example of how that could be done. Inspiring.

Later that day we were strolling through Port Renfrew and at the fishing dock we bumped right into one of the main people from the Sombrio story – Rivermouth Mike (His house was on the mouth of the river).

“Hey!  We just saw you on the movie Sombrio!!”  I exclaimed with a big smile.

“I’m really glad to meet you” He replied with a sincerity that was so unusual as to make me feel a bit uncomfortable. Right away I could tell that this person was actually talking to me. Not just talking to fill the space, but communicating directly with me. Wow.

“Do you still get down to Sombrio?” Dan wondered
“I surf there almost every day” He said.
“More in the winter”
“Nice!”  We replied in unison

Rivermouth Mike went on with warm chatter about days gone bye and life as it is now, keen to share with a couple of strangers from afar. Something about him made both Dan and I want nothing more than to hang around him and absorb his aura. His eyes were so alive – a mix of crazy and enlightened I think!

Finally we dragged ourselves away, the both of us beaming and feeling lucky to have met Rivermouth Mike – a man who lived in a diverse community of squatters away from society.

The next day we went for the hike and it sure was everything we hoped for. Spending time in the West Coast forest is a beautiful thing.  Good for the soul for sure.

Getting to spend a couple of weeks with Dan on his adventure sure was great. Every time we catch up it becomes grounding, encouraging and thought provoking. I’m lucky to have such a brother. It seems that driving his Jeep down the Americas is as much a spiritual journey as it is a physical one. I love the way he is able to spread the joy he is creating with a wider audience through this web site.

I can’t think of anything more valuable for a person to do. Maybe that is the purpose of life – to create and spread Joy!!!

Right-on Dan!!

Love Mike.

I just did another oil change and tire rotation, which gave me another chance to crawl all over the Jeep and have a good look. I noticed a few things:

• My ‘new’ tires are wearing much faster than I had hoped. At this rate I don’t think they’ll make the whole trip, but we’ll see what happens. I picked up another flat a couple of weeks back bringing the count to two.
• The pinion seal on the front diff is leaking again… it really shouldn’t be doing that, but it’s never going to amount to much so I’m going to leave it.
• The passenger foot well is soaking wet sometimes which I think is either the heater core leaking, water getting in between the windshield and hood or a missing drain plug in the floor. I still haven’t figured out exactly when it happens so I need to keep thinking about it.
• Even after 10,000 kms the engine oil was still pretty good, I think it really likes the highway driving.

The Jeep has been running brilliantly, with only one ‘problem’ for the whole trip. I think it was more operator error, but I’ll let you decide
The plastic drain plug on the bottom of the radiator had been leaking a few drops here and there since I flushed the whole thing before leaving. When I was in Skagway, Alaska I noticed it was more than the usual few drops, so I tried to tighten it. Of course I went for too much, and the plug broke off in my hand. I ummed and arred for a while before finally deciding to pull the whole radiator out – I didn’t want any little plastic fragments floating around in there waiting to hit the water pump blades or puncture a hose.
The whole deal took about an hour and a half, and it’s nice to know it’s all fixed properly.

-Dan

The comments posted on this site have completely blown me away to the point that when I wake up in the morning I have to wonder if I’m dreaming.
“Are people really reading my blog and being inspired by it?” is something I still can’t believe on a daily basis.

Reading comments like the following makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my life, no question.
I don’t stop beaming for days.

Rhieanon wrote:

I just wanted to let you know how truly inspiring your journey is and tell you about the lives you have touched. I’m a 28 year old single mother to a wonderful 4 year old boy (Jacob) living in Wales and your journey is changing our lives. We came to your blog after the Magic Bus post, I had seen the film into the wild and wanted to know more. This led us to you and we haven’t looked back since.I read your blog to Jacob and we follow your progress on the map, imagining that we too are on a great adventure. You are an inspiration to my little boy who tells all his little friends about “the man in the computer”. I just wanted you to know that you and your journey have touched a little boys heart and opened up his mind to new possibilities. We wish you well on your adventure and will continue to follow your journey. xx Rhi and Jakes

brian12566 wrote:

Just found your blog today. Awesome idea! I printed out the map above and like Liz, posted it on the office wall. I am a cop with the NYPD and all the cops in the office are following your adventure, living vicariously through you. Thank you for taking us out of Manhattan! Go! Dan! Go!

Comments make me believe I really can do this more than you guys will ever know.

Thank you to everyone that has posted a comment here. I really appreciate it.

I’ve added a few things to the site recently that I want to point out. In the sidebar on the right hand side, there are two new sections; “Recent Comments” shows snippets of the five most recent comments on the site and “Top Commenters” shows the people that have posted the most comments for the current month.  Hopefully this will make it easier for you all to keep up with the comments.

I’ve also added a new page across the top, “Thanks” which is an attempt to thank all of the people who have helped me live my dreams. I couldn’t’ do this without their help and support.

If you’ve been reading this blog and haven’t left a comment yet, I urge you to do so – good, bad or otherwise I love to hear from everyone out there. What do you think about my trip? my writing? my photos?
What would you do differently?
What are you doing to make your dreams come true?

I also try my absolute best to reply to every single comment, so if you ever do leave one, remember to check back for my reply.

Proudly with the ever growing yellow line...

-Dan
aka. The Man In The Computer

We are the only people in camp when we return from our walk to the Carmanah Giant, everyone else has walked the 30 mins to the Indian Reservation where a burger can be bought for $15 and beer for $7. We watch a couple of whales surfacing out in the bay until the sun goes down, completely happy with our de-hydrated hiking food. It occurs to us that we are not tempted by the burgers and beer because we are not sacrificing anything to be here. If we wanted to be eating burgers and drinking beer, we’d be sitting on a couch doing that.

Beautiful in the sunshine

The next morning we set out to hike around the point below the Carmanah Lighthouse. The lighthouse keeper tells us that many people turn back from the seaweed covered cliff, which makes us all the more determined.

At times we climbed vertical rock to stay ocean side

At one point the going gets so hairy we all assess the situation and give the OK before we move forward as a group. Rock climbing with a pack tuns out to be quite the challenge and I don’t move a muscle when a wave comes in while my foot is on a low rock, perfectly happy to get a soaked boot instead of scrambling and maybe slipping into the waves.

Hiking the beach

We continue along the beach, rock shelf and finally move inland again. We are dumbfounded by the state of disrepair the boardwalks are in. Broken and rotting boards are everywhere, the entire structures are slanted in all directions, they move under our feet, have rusty nails sticking out all over and are extremely slippery. None of us has ever seen a trail in such a state of decay and agree it would be much safer to just remove the rotting boardwalks altogether. It is becoming very clear why there is almost one rescue per day on this trail.

Mike amused at the state of the boardwalks

We arrive at the Nitnat Narrows ferry to see hikers eating salmon, crab and drinking expensive beer. This is another place the natives have found their captive audience and are making a killing. The Nitnat Narrows are a tidal inlet that feed a lake and as such have massive incoming and outgoing currents as the water lags behind the tides. We heard a story of one guy swimming across, but it’s not something we are about to try.

The trail got all Indiana Jones at times

The official trail map has one interesting bullet point we discuss at length:

• Assume all surfaces are slippery

We decide the word ‘assume’ could safely be removed after we all take a fall or two. My best effort was while walking along the ocean side rock shelf, in about two or three centimeters of water. After slipping a couple of times and slowing down, I completely loose it and land on my butt and pack in the shallow water getting completely soaked and putting a big dent in my pride. When Mike sees me he bursts out laughing and the three of us are instantly in hysterics. Roger loves that our first reaction is to burst out laughing at each other, then ask if the fallen party is injured.

Mike & Roger

We continue inland and on the beaches to Tsusiat Falls, our campsite for the night after 21 km. We’ve been told the falls can be very spectacular during a high rainfall year, but they are not much more than slightly impressive during our visit. Mike declares he has a cold and puts himself to bed the minute I get the tent set up. At first, he won’t even get out of bed to eat dinner – but I finally manage to convince him to eat something and he’s happier for it.

The not so mighty Tsusiat Falls

It rains overnight and into the morning, but me manage to pack-up in a brief respite and after an hour of walking we can see the day will be clear. We only have 13 km to walk for the day and really enjoy ourselves – relaxing into the hiking routines and taking our time at lunch. Sitting around the campfire at Michigan Creek that night all the northbound hikers are in high spirits – we have only one short day to hike.

Sunset behind a cable car (Carmanah Creek)

Our fifth and final day we wake to seriously heavy rain and try to keep our spirits high by saying it wouldn’t be an authentic West Coast Trail Experience™ without some solid rain. By the time we cook breakfast and pack-up we are completely soaked, though knowing we have only 12 km to finish gets us going.

At times the boadwalks are endless

The trail here is all inland and although it’s not as difficult as the other end of the trail, all of the mud patches are deeper, the surfaces are slipperier and most times a small creek runs down the trail. It makes us all realize how different the hike would be if it rained solidly for five days – we are covered in mud and it’s next to impossible to keep everything dry. Passing hikers walking in the other direction I notice how clean they look and how nice they smell. Is that makeup I see?

I smile ear to ear as it occurs to me I am now the guy that reeks of campfire.

Roger, Mike & Dan at the end of the trail!

-Dan

Much like the Chilkoot, the First Nations people of the area had been using the trail for hundreds of years before foreign sailing ships came into the picture. The rugged coastline claimed many unsuspecting ships and so from 1888 to 1890 the government built a telegraph line on the trail in the hopes of saving lives through better communications. Twenty odd years later a second lighthouse was constructed and the trail was greatly improved to act as a life saving route for shipwreck victims. As technology improved shipwrecks became a thing of the past and the trail was abandoned until 1973 when it became part of the newly established Pacific Rim National Park.

Today the 75 km trail is by far the most famous in Canada, often making an appearance on lists of the world’s best hiking trails.

Port Renfrew seems to brew it’s own weather, mostly of the oceanside misty, damp kind. Our tent is soaking wet in the morning, which we think is rain but turns out to just be ocean mist/fog that settles on everything. Amped to get hiking we amble into the ranger station and discover we’ll have to wait until the following day before we can begin. The number of hikers per day is limited and a reservation cost an extra $25 each so we thought we would just wing it. While we’re there we pay the hiking fee of $160 each and sit through the hour or so introduction which is useful, but really only makes us wish we were hiking today. We spend the day organizing gear, walking around town and drinking cheap coffee.
Camp for the night is beachside and free

Early the next morning we drop off my Jeep in a secure parking lot (for $18) and get a ride to the starting point – a ferry across Gordon River. Everyone is hugely entertained weighing their packs when we discover a set of scales hanging nearby. Mike at I ring in at 36 and 40 pounds respectively, which is 10 pounds lighter than the next nearest hiker. One guy about half my size has 62 pounds. Ouch. The other hikers are keen to talk about how long we’ve planned for the hike and are quite taken aback when we shrug our shoulders and grin our usual answer to such questions; “As long as it takes”.

Mike and Dan starting The West Coast Trail

Happy at my own pace, Mike quickly disappears into the misty fog that surrounds us. We’ve been told over and over the first 10 km we encounter are the hardest of the entire trail. Most people prefer to start at the other end and cover this ground on their last day when their packs are lighter – I am happy to tackle it while eager and fresh. Quickly I am in the thick of it; mud, tree roots, uphill, downhill, bridges and ladders and all of it very very slippery. It’s been one of the driest summers on record, so I can only imagine what it’s like in a rainy year. Passing people hiking in the opposite direction I notice how tired and muddy they all are, not to mention they all reek of campfire.

The scale of the trail...

By the time I catch up with Mike he has made a friend, Roger from the Netherlands who moves at a similar rapid pace. In many places along the trail we can choose between staying inland or hiking along beaches. We’ve been told over and over again to take the beach option whenever we can, so we head down a string of ladders to Thrasher Cove, our lunch stop.

Dropping down some stairs

Mike cooking lunch in the sun

Hiking around Owen Point requires the tides to be just right, so we wait a couple of hours in the amazing sunshine and head out right as the tide is going down. Some great rock-hopping is required and throughly enjoyed by all. Owen Point has beautiful colored rock formations and we stumble upon an alternate trail that has us use ropes to go up vertical rock and over the still too-high tide.

Mike in the rock formations at Owen Point

We follow the beach around, head inland for a few kilometers, use our first cable car with much calamity and arrive at Camper Bay, our stop for the night after 12 km.

Roger and Mike in a cable car

The number of people here is mind-blowing – I count 14 tents in view when we arrive, with more being set up by the minute. We bump into some people from our ferry earlier in the day, including the guy with 62 pounds. They hiked inland for the entire day and did not look like they were having any fun at all on the rooty, muddy trail.

Mike navigating the endless mud

The next day we have a stretch of inland hiking that has an impressive vertical drop of about six ladders immediately followed by six more straight back up.

Going up?

Navigating the one and only river crossing on the trail is disappointingly only a trickle that we walk straight across.

We love these high logs, called 'Nerve Testers'

Walking along the beach and rock shelf is a great way to finish the 16 km for the day at Carmanah Creek campsite. We quickly throw everything in our tents and start walking up Carmanah Creek, happy to be rid of our packs. Jeff from Seafun told us about the world’s largest sitka spruce tree, the Carmanah Giant which lies only a kilometer up the creek from the campsite. Rock-hopping with tired legs is hilarious and we all inevitably get a boot wet in the creek, laughing the whole time. The trunk of the giant is much much bigger than any other tree at 3 meters, and even though it’s right at river level, it towers over all the other trees growing higher up the valley wall.

The Carmanah Giant complete with tree hugger

Dan & Mike beach hiking

There is plenty more to come on this one…

-Dan

Driving the Jeep

We leave Mike’s motorbike in Horseshoe Bay and catch the ferry to Langdale, where we meet Bill’s brother David and his wife Barbara. David and Barbara drove to and around South America for their honeymoon and we spend many hours looking at mind-blowing photos and hearing stories of civil war, flat tires and good times.

Mike, David, Barbara & Dan enjoying the view

David tells one story of being the first people to drive a road in the Amazon after the rainy season, a few hundred kilometers winds up taking six days of crazy full-on adventure I can only dream about.
I lie awake for hours at night, too excited to sleep.

Mike & Dan camping together

We drive north along The Sunshine coast, passing gorgeous seaside towns every twenty kilometers or so. It winds up being a day of ferry crossings, first to Powell River then another to Comox, where we find one of my better guerrilla campsites. What a view.

The view from one of our "campsites"

In the morning we play a quick nine holes of disc golf at Mt. Washington, then drive down to Nanimo for another eighteen. We catch up with Judy (from the Chilkoot Trail) and Kirby, who fill our heads with stories and pictures of The West Coast Trail, our next adventure. We play another eighteen holes in the morning and I finally beat mike on the playoff hole.

It doesn’t take us long to meet up with a good friend Joel when we arrive in Victoria, and we are shortly enjoying a beer and takeout noodles in the afternoon sun. Budget be dammed. I’d forgotten how similar Victoria is to Melbourne and it takes us no time at all to enjoy the sights and sounds.

In the morning we jump aboard a Seafun Safaris boat, bound for some whale watching. I’ve never been before and it is quite the experience. Boats are not allowed to use their engines within 100 meters of whales so the basic idea is to get into a position where you think the whales are coming, cut the engines and wait.

All geared up to go whale watching

We wait only a few minuets when a female Orca surfaces just 15 meters from the boat, noisily exhaling in a plume of water. Our captain Jeff tells us she is “Grandma” the oldest and leader of this pod, at 98 years old. Soon afterwards a male, with a massive dorsal fin surfaces also very close to the boat – this one is “Ruffles” so named because the shape of his dorsal fin resembles a Ruffles potato chip. As we float around we see Orca from this pod in all shapes and sizes – big, small, nursing young and some just cruising around completely ignoring us.

Killer whale called "Ruffles"

Jeff has been whale watching for 10+ years and it shows – his knowledge and expertise are very impressive and we have a fantastic morning outing to see killer whales in their natural environment.

-Dan