Uncommon Adventures blog

1/5
Finca Ixobel, Poptun, Guatemala
I spent last night 45 feet up in a tree with a yellow Tarantula…something unexpected has happened on a trip where I’ve had very little expectation. As I was preparing to leave Flores, I met a pair of backpackers from Eugene who were heading toward Rio Dulce, so we stuff the two of them and their bags in the Escape and headed South. They wanted to visit this finca (farm) they heard about that had treehouses, huts and dorms to stay in with cave trips and jungle hiking.  So, for $8 I spent the night in a treehouse on the farm too to take advantage of the peaceful setting, the great birding and the wonderful home-made bread from the kitchen. I wasn’t really all that keen on the late night drawn down with the 8 legged Dude with biceps on the wall over my bed.  I tied to terminate his hairy ass with my water bottle, but he was just too fast. Fortunately for both of us, he either oozed out between a crack or hid somewhere out of site to let me attempt sleep in blissful ignorance.  This is a pretty cool place that has a variety of trails, swimming holes sin (cocodrillos—gaters), an awesome staff of cooks and travelers from all over…most of them Guatemalan.  They handle up to 150 people here and it seems like people oft come here for a day and stay a week or two.  Rubbing shoulders with all the Guatemalans, I can see why it’s a popular place to travel.  Beautiful countries full of bright, friendly people are pretty hard to fine anywhere…you just have to learn to ignore the serious looking, heavily armed dudes along the roadways.

Okay, I really am going to Rio Dulce now…really.  Isn’t that a Rufus-Throated Hummingbird over there just below the tree with all the Montezuma’s Oropendula’s nests?  Hard place to leave, despite the well-armed arachnids.

1/3
Flores, Guatemala
Now I’m really concerned.  Plan A is still working just fine. I must be using up all of my good luck tickets for something disastrous ahead. Yes, I’m an optimist.  I sailed through Customs with no line and only enlighted by about $25 then made my way to Tikal by noon.  I spend the whole afternoon hiking around the Ruins and chose to camp right there so that I could go check out the nature trails for birds in the early morning.  Nothing like a troupe of 60 Koatimundi’s nearly cruising through your tent at 6 am…that was fun. The air was filled with sounds of various Parrots, Parakeets, Tanagers and Kiskadees.  After walking about 4 miles I came back to my car to run into Nadav again (a car with sea kayaks really sticks out around here) and off we went together to Flores in Peten. This is a bit touristy island in a large laguna that is encircled with brick streets and small traditional hotels.  Its vaguely like Venice without the stench.  Frankly, it’s a pretty cool place and Nadav and I split a pretty decent lakeside room for $12.  Today, I head for Rio Dulce within a day’s drive of San Pedro Sula, HN where I plan to arrive on Jan 5, meeting up with the student group on Jan 6. So far so good…crap.

Just as I was packing up my soaking wet tent and gear for the drive to Belize a tall fellow came into camp peering over at the tidepools.  I asked if he was looking to camp and he said in an odd English/Spanish mix that we was trying to get a boat the few miles downcoast to San Pedro on Ambergris Caye, Belize.  No boats were headed that way this morning, so we was sorting out a new plan.  Turns out that Nadav is a busy bomb squad dude from Jerusalem who was in the midst of a 9 week diving and climbing trip.  Since I was headed for Belize, I had found a co-pilot.  After gassing up in Chetumal, we headed for the border only to be pulled aside because we’d missed the immigration booth alongside the road cleverly disguised as something completely indistinguishable as anything official. Stamping my passport out seemed to be no problem, but the Israeli traveler was shaken down for $20 or so.  Okay, we hike back over to where we’d pulled the car over to the side of the bridge and headed back across to be stopped by Edwards the random Belizian dude who made his living by walking you through the process of 1)getting your car insured 2) getting it fumigated 3) going to Belizian Immigration and 4) getting your car across all for the price of whatever its worth to you.  Edwards was actually extremely courteous and I was actually sorry that I only had $5 to palm him rather than 10.  Once inside immigration again I was whisked through while Nadav was forced to sign a great deal of paperwork, pay $50, get a visa and be questioned fiercely about why he wasn’t over fighting in the new war in Gaza.  Oddly, the army had been texting him all day with the same question.  The car passed with only raised eyebrows…(things on the roof seem to be invisible) except for the 2ft long Katydid made from a palm leaf on my dash.  Moises made if for me as a parting gift for good luck and I gave him a Swiss Army Knife to complete his McGyver ensemble.  When you’re riding a scooter with a big bandolier tool belt, your wife, your 5 yr old daughter and a spaniel named moochu, you need all the help you can get.

Nadav and I soon sail through Orange Walk and realize that Belize is small…in no time we’ll be in Belize City (one of the foulest places on earth), so as it nears dark we decide to drive the long sodden causeway to Crooked Tree Audobon Sanctuary and see if there is some place we can stay out there.  Its seems to be a small island community whose nature trails are really just signs nailed onto the village roads.  We end up boarding for the night in the upstairs of Pastor Rhaborn’s listing home and are soon joined by a couple of young women who have hiked he 5 K in from the main road.  They simply got off their bus, in the dark, with no real idea of a place to stay…talk about a leap of faith.  Once Nadav introduces himself, Rachel, who lives in Philly breaks into pretty comfortable Hebrew and he’s pretty much in the land of totally unexpected.  Her tall Chinese-American companion, Andrea lives in Fairbanks so we recount Alaska stories.  Its not long before she asks if I’d met her friend’s Tom and Katie from Wasilla while I was in Mexico….the very same Tom and Katie I’d spent three days fishing and camping with over Christmas.  Makes you wonder if ever there are true coincidences or not?

After about an 8 mile birdless walk the next morning, with my car festooned with four people and gear we bumped our way out to the main road to part company.  Once I dropped Nadav in Belize City to catch a ferry to Cay Caulker I headed up to San Ignacio where I am now going to spent New Year’s Eve listening to scary stories of bandits in Guatemala from travelers who’ve just come from there.  I’m banking on hangovers to slow them down…strategy.

Happy New Year Everyone!

12/28

After a morning spent hunting for bonefish on the flats of Bahia Chetumal, I returned to camp to meet up with Gerhardt and Not-Gisela, German sailors living on a 28 foot Wharom catamaran lashed together with tie-down straps from Home Depot.  I could never remember her name, but she insisted that it wasn’t Gisela. We managed a Christmas lunch of fresh pineapple and cornbread pancakes.  Not long after they began the hard slog into the wind in their dinghy back to their bouncing boat, a new couple arrived here in camp Palapa.  They were from Wasilla and we all know where that is now.  Both teachers on break, Katie was lovely and patient and Tom was all about fly-fishing.  So, I’ve been off-line for a few days with a new fishing friend and also dealing with an ailing laptop. I’m hoping that I have the problem fixed now.  Tom and I managed to catch a few Bonefish and small Tarpon in the lagoon and the three of us created a few nice meals together.  Last night we even managed dinner out for ceviche at the unlikely location of the disco.  We even glance at the menu, just ordered three bottles of Sol and a large order of ceviche mixta.  Our expectations were completely overcome by a huge platter of shrimp, conch and octopus marinated in lime, cilantro and vinegar that tried to decimate, but just couldn’t do it.  After a walk to settle down the seafood salad, we stopped off at the Leaky Palapa restaurant for margaritas and desert.  We’re on a little dirt road at the end of a peninsula that just got electricity a few years ago.  You might find bits about the Leaky P in The New Yorker or Sunset Magazine. The two fetching ladies that operate and live under a rainbow flag in the this funky little restaurant prepare the most amazing meals from local ingredients from their weekly trips to Chetumal.  Crab stuffed grouper, blackened conch steaks on beancakes over mango/avocado salsa, dark chocolate coconut layer cheesecake, chicken stuffed crepes in Manchego/Poblano chile sauce are just a few of the things I got to sample here.  I swear to all the deities, its worth sleeping along the side of the road to spend the money you saved at this little pothole in paradise.

Today, our little encampment was joined by a group of Zapotistas on their way to a forum during their Christmas holiday.  The local disco promises not one, but two live bands for New Year’s Eve, but tomorrow I plan to pull up stakes (literally) and head for Belize.  With luck I’ll make it to San Ignacio, near the Guatemalan border.
nn

12/24
Christmas Eve/Xcalak
When you are traveling each day making distance goals you often notice a certain break in your life’s cadence.  You may make your goals just fine, but you miss turns, make odd choices and forget things that you might not normally forget. Its as if something is just a little off rhythm. Once I stopped in Xcalak to take a break from everyday travel and get in the water for some swimming and paddling I noticed a change after about three days. The rest of me caught up with where I was.  I was finally able to downshift to the natural pace of the place around me.  Xcalak has a typically Mexican relaxed pace tempered with a large winter Gringo population. Things get done, but in their own time.  It’s a windy spot at the south end of the Yucatan where diving and fly fishing are the mainstays of the local tourist economy mixed with the usual expat real estate bleed, which seems to have been staunched by the current US economy.

Today Moises, who manages this little camp of one, is putting together his usual Wednesday chicken BBQ which is a popular local event.  Like many here he makes his living doing many things; maintenance, building plus a little dabbling in solar and wind power.  Like the Conchinita Pibil, most of the village is likely to turn up despite its being Christmas eve.

12/21
The End of the Road, the End of a Peninsula and the end of a Country

The village slaughtered a very large and very reluctant pig 10 meters from my tent yesterday.  I’m camped at a little place on the beach thanks to my hosts Moses and his lovely family.  In addition to a small palapa and a much appreciated Bano, where I sleep is also the site of today’s traditional Maya Cochinita Pibil.  It all begins with a meticulously cleaned hog, cleaved into many pieces submerged in a washtub full of bitter orange, garlic, spices and vinegar.  During that process a large pit is dug into which a large red mangrove fire is built, over this is built a Lincoln log structure of hardwood beams that continue to burn underneath a heap of rocks.  When things burn through and the rock fall in the whole, its time to lower the 280lb vat of carne into the hole, cover with banana leaves and then bury in moist sand.  That was 20 hours ago.  We have since dug it up while a number of village folks are preparing shopped vegetables, salsas, 400 tortillas, and guacamole by the bucketful.  I think we’re having a few people over.  The whole village, in fact, will be wandering over in a few hours.  Sleeping tonight is probably not an option, but it’s quite a privilege to have been able to help and participate in this Mayan celebration.

After leaving the bustling city of Villahermosa, I made it the 350miles to Chetumal in one day (a very good day’s drive in Mexico), spent the night at hotel where your car lives in a garage behind a curtain and nothing is ever written on paper.  Might explain the vaguely 69ish motif on the bed’s headboard.  I was able to stock up on supplies at a very fine grocery there and then made haste to finish my trip to Xcalak where I planned to stall out for a while to celebrate Christmas, and try a bit of hydro therapy on my sore shoulder by way of fishing and some tentative kayaking.  That was plan A.  Plan A turns out to be a good one and is working.  That is some cause for alarm in my experience because Plan A rarely works.  In any case, I have a beautiful view of the Gulf and a coral reef in my front yard and with the exception of the entire village today, I’m camped alone. There are quite a few Gringos here, all colorful characters of course and it promises NOT to be a lonely Christmas holiday.  Seems like I may even have a few options of people to fish with, not the least of which is Moses’ 14-year-old son, Christian.  Born in Belize both Christian and Moy (Moses’ local name) are bilingual and avid anglers, so I believe I will be teaching the boy to kayak tomorrow for a chance to go after tarpon and snook in the lagoon across the road, taking care not to agitate the crocodrillos that lounge around the edges.

There is a place called Costa de Cocos about4 k up the beach that is a combo fishing and diving lodge that has WIFI, so I may get a chance to upload this tomorrow. I plan to stay here until after Christmas and exercise as much as I can before making a pass through Belize onto Guatemala around the 27th. My friend Mark’s daughter runs a unique tree house ecolodge near Antigua and I hope to spend New Year’s there.  During the next few days, I try to post a few stories about the characters here at the end of the road to paint a picture of the Xcalak experience.

12/19

I’m currently in Chetumal down in Quintana Roo.  I passed from the state of Tabasco today through the East side of Chiapas on onto the border of QR.  From here you either go up the coast to Cancun, South into Belize or around the bay and down the remaining bits of really bad road to the bottom of the Yucatan. Naturally, I’m headed for the bad road next.

Can’t do a drive like this without mentioning the actual driving bit.  Road signs in Mexico are quite good and most of the roads I’ve been on have been pretty good.  Some general rules:

*Speed limit:  As fast as the mechanical limits of your vehicle will allow and a bit more
*Signs:  must obey all signs, limits, double yellow lines, warnings, etc…unless your vehicle is moving.
*Passing:  When someone has their left turn signal on, that means they want you to pass them and in their estimation, there’s room…regardless of uncoming traffic.  Up hills, double yellow, curves, rain, no lights…hey, go for it.
*Law enforcement: Federal police have new Dodge Charges and new Chevy 4×4 trucks….you can see them a mile away.  The small town police are the ones who stop you to enhance their miserly pay. If you get stopped by a small town cop in a new car, be afraid.
*Topes or speed bumps….the warning bumps can be surfed, but if there is a sign or yellow lines on them, they will take out both axles if you hit them at more than 10kph.
You can purchase almost anything at a speed bump.  Any time you slow down, you’ll be mobbed by folks selling their local specialty, whether it be fresh cheese, juices, pineapples, peeled oranges, grilled meat on a stick, wooden horses, tortillas,  chilled coconuts with a straw…you just have to be ready do commerce at a roll.
The CAR:  This car is AWESOME! I made a good choice in the Ford Escape 4×4 with the four cyl. It takes the rough roads well, seems to hate the cold, but loves heat (AC will frost your nose), can kick it when it needs to and gets decent mileage even with a roofload of kayaks.  There seem to be a ton of them around down here, so it blends in well…except for my Michigan plate. Nobody can figure that one out.  At the checkpoints I see them shaking their heads in the mirrors.

Mexico is pretty easy to drive in…maps and signs are OK, roads are decent, drivers competent and there are lines on most of the roads.  My history of Island driving has helped me a ton since driving in Honduras is much, much, much worse.
I’m now pretty sure I can pass through Belize without too much trouble and cross that bit of Guatemala that get me up to Copan…not the close crossing I had in mind, but it will work fine.

12/18

Villahermosa

I’m at a bit of an impasse….if I go on to Chetumal and down the Yucatan coast from here I’m committed to going through Belize to cross Guatemala into Honduras…and I have no information that this is possible.  There are roads, but maps and info on the borders there are really sketchy.  It may mean that I must backtrack all the way over to the Pacific side again to cross.  That’s why I budgeted time…so, I guess I’ll haul ass for the long dirt road down to the Xcalak and the bottom of the Yucatan…which means that I’ll probably be off line for a few days.

If any of you have any or can get any info about that crossing, please leave a comment…it’ll make my Christmas much more relaxed.

Cheers

12/16

Okay, so now I find myself working on battery power from the front porch of a little cabana on stilts over a bit of a swamp…and yes, the bugs are getting rough. It’s a step up from last night though where I slept in a guy’s yard. I seem to be getting ahead of myself.

Once I escaped from Tampico and bumped my way south over about 150 speed bumps (everytime you get up to a good cruising speed, there’s another one) with the intention of making Veracruz or about an hour North of it.  By about 1:30 in the afternoon I finally got the the Gulf…a body of water that I had been skirting since Corpus Christi, but had yet to see. The beach was huge, beautiful and had some gentle surf…there was even a bunch of nice looking hotels for $20-$50.  Looking at the map, it looked like I’d still be on the beach by about 4pm so I figured there’d be lots of similar hotels.  Four pm came and when with nothing but small villages of speed bumps and nary a place to sleep that even the most adventurous would take on.  I begin to get a little closer to Veracruz than I want (not wanting another night in big-city-expensive hotel) and I see a sign for the eco-tourism center forest reserve on the beach with camping…perfect.  Signs here seem to the epitome of optimism; in reality I found no campo, no sign of any sort of center although I really annoyed some guys with guns at a biology station.  Okay, so it WAS in the fallout zone of the nuke plant up the beach. So, I’m making my way back to the main highway and I see what looks like a few cabanas in half-done mode.  I pulled in and asked if I could camp there…and they even had the bathroom done.  I got a good night’s sleep in my tent under the waning moon and had to force them to take money.  I did make an evening walk into the pueblo to look for something to eat, but quickly became a person of interest and gained a fairly polluted cling-on until my hosts rescued me in their truck.  I’m so far off the tourist track that I’m an alien.

Today’s drive took me off the main hwy along a short-cut.  This is guy’s short cut.  The kind that takes five times as long to drive.  You women already know this; guys develop amnesia about this fact every day.  I drove over every road surface possible today…pavement, stones, gravel, streambeds,beach sand and found the bottom of my struts on a couple of speed bumps that didn’t have warning signs.  It was closer to the beach…beautiful rugged cliffs, pounding surf, all superb places for a guesthouse of some sort.  Even with my flexible standards, there wasn’t even a place that I would feel secure camping in.  Resigned to heading into the next city and staying along the town’s main drag again I continue along this circuitous and really lovely “shortcut” and see a sign for a hotel…a nice sign…even says its on a nice beach and only 10k away.  Swerving hard left I head for it and about 3 minutes down the road I see signs for the Nanciyaga (I know it sounds like a yoga retreat build by some lady from California) Biosphere Preserve.  I swerve again and end up at this solar lagoon camp with howler monkeys and toucans…sweet.  Tomorrow I hope to upload this update and see if I can determine whether or not its even possible to drive through Belize and transit Guatemala to the Honduran border.  There are roads-ish, but some problem with only being able to take cars in certain borders.  I’m nearing the threadwaisted part of Mexico where it would be and easy day to drop southwesterly to the Pacific side and finish along that coast, but then I would miss the whole Yucatan….stay tuned.

My posts will probably diminish in frequency as I get further and further off the grid here, so no one should be concerned if nothing new turns up for a few days without a heads-up from me.  Be well, don’t lick the swingset.

Wasn’t that a Buffet song?  Well, I made it here intact.  Went through some amazingly flat farm country, dust storms, huge winds and then through some pretty rolling Mesquite country with the odd Cenote here and there.  Even managed to feel the magnetic pull of water down a strange two track that veered off the road.  I had to turn around and go back to bomb down it.  Ended at a really pretty flooding area where I saw an Osprey, some Goldeneyes and a shitload of Turkey Vultures…nature’s kite.  Had a little snack on the hood, picked a dozen key limes and hit the road for Tampico…which turns out to be a huge port city, bustling, pricey and well, a city.  Will shoot for a smaller town in the vicinity of Veracruz tomorrow.  Still haven’t settled the question of whether one can cross borders from Belize into Guatemala and then find enough roads to make a border crossing into Honduras.  I may have to cross to the Pacific side yet.