Guatemala and beyond...

Since so much has happened in the past few weeks, it´s hard to start knowing that I will likely leave out so many details. Hopefully, this blog will provide some justice to the experiences we have been having.



We had planned to spend a few weeks in the Peten area of Guatemala taking Spanish classes, but unfortunately after one week we decided to hele-on out of there because our teachers weren´t quite seeing eye to eye with us. We did advance our Spanish a little and David´s teacher actually let him take the Spanish manual and copy it, so we have our own "Learn to Speak Spanish" book with us now that we´ll hopefully have the discipline to flip through once in a while. We each stayed with separate familes in San Jose, Guatemala (a homestay is part of the Spanish school program) and enjoyed the company of our families. San Jose is across Lago Peten Itza from the big cities of Santa Elena and San Benito and has a population of only 800 or so. Although our families were very nice, it was apparent that we were "paying customers" because they didn´t really go out of their way to get to know us or give us much time to get to know them. We still had a great time in San Jose swimming in the crystal clear lake and enjoying the feria which just so happened to be going on while we were there. Before leaving the Peten area we of course had to go see the famous Tikal ruins. So we signed up for a "sunrise tour" of Tikal where they picked us up at 3:15 am. Brought back memories of doing the night shift. Well, we were lucky that morning (or shall I say no so lucky) and it rained all morning. So, we sat atop temple 4 listening to the jungle sounds and staring at...fog. No sunrise. We had fun nonetheless and David of course took some pictures.



After multiple days without any good sleep (see previous blog) and tromping around in the rain at Tikal, we were both feeling a little under the weather, so we decided to take our first bus ride back into Belize from Santa Elena. The Belize Cross-Country bicycle race was happening the next day and we wanted to be in San Ignacio for the event. We met back up with our friend Waldemar who very graciously let us again sleep in a classroom at Sacred Hearts College and enjoyed the hours of conversation about family, Belize, and life in general. The bicycle race also was quite the spectacle. Almost more fun to watch was the whole town anticipating the arrival of the bikers and the streets lined with folks waiting to catch a glimpse. All for only about 80 bikers. The race was roughly 150 miles from Belize City to San Ignacio and back and an American won. The man we were standing next to was so happy that a "white boy" wasn´t in the lead when they passed through San Ignacio. He says that an American or Canadian usually wins and he was hoping a Belizean would win this year. Darn.



After restocking our "pantry" (a.k.a. blue pannier) and enjoying some heavenly mennonite cheese and homemade whole wheat bread at the local market, we left San Ignacio and headed down the Hummingbird highway. (Note--we had heard time and time again that the mennonites in Belize made good cheese, but we had yet to find some, so when we did we were STOKED, if simply to break up the monotony of rice and beans). The ride down the Hummingbird highway proved to be one of the most scenic yet. We rode alongside the base of the Maya mountain range and enjoyed views of lush green valleys the whole time. As we got further South, orange plantations became more frequent and we of course poached a few oranges which we savored in the hot sun. About half way down the highway, we came across a river lined with tons of people swimming and BBQing for Easter Sunday. We joined in the fun and hopped in the river for some refreshment and also met a couple of guys who gave us some beers which multiplied our refreshment ten-fold. Down at the river we also saw lots of kids eating a fruit that kind of looked like a squash, so we asked them what it was and they said "cacao." We tried it (by sucking off the sweet mucus-like layer from the seeds) and it tasted kind of like lychee. It was only 30 mins later or so that we realized cacao is the Spanish AND English word for the plant, and that we were sucking on the same fruit that chocolate is made of. How that made me want chocolate so bad. So close, yet so far.



We pulled in to Saint Margaret Village and decided we would try and find a place to stay the night as evening was fast approaching. Saint Margaret Village is one of those towns that you drive through and say, "Was that it?" five miles later, so of course, there were no hotels. We asked a nice man who we met down at the river if we could camp in his yard and he happily agreed. Although we were only looking for a place to camp, we ended up with five-star treatment. The Borlan family immediately treated us to cold watermelon and all the fresh fruits we could eat from their fruit trees in the back of their house, besides a nice hot dinner and breakfast. Anthony Borlan, his wife Ingrid, and their five children, TJ, Jamie, Tracy, Chelsea, and Clifton again reminded us of the inherent goodness of humanity and how lucky we are to be able to share these moments with them. They also educated us on the music and lyrics to a number of Celine Dion songs which they LOVED and listened to over and over.

After St. Margaret Village, we spent an afternoon and night in Hopkins on the coast. Hopkins is a Garifuna village where the people (Garifuna) are descendents from Africa and speak a different language than others in Belize. We sampled some Garifuna cuisine (a coconut milk stew with fish and plantains) and watched some drumming and singing. However, the experience wasn´t as genuine as we had hoped it would be as we were prodded for tips throughout our stay.

On we went to the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary, where we camped for a couple of nights and hiked up to some stunning waterfalls, one of which we had to ourselves almost the whole day. We were also reunited with our friends the ¨black flies¨ and had dozens of bites to prove it when we left. We rode out on our rainiest day yet following an entire night of pouring rain, so the dirt road out was plenty muddy. At least we were already experienced with all sorts of muds and this just so happened to be an ¨easy mud,¨more sandy and less sticky. Off to the coast again. The ride to Independence, Belize was pretty monotonous and uneventful, although we did pass through countless banana plantations with depressing dilapidated living quarters for the workers. Unfortunately, the haciendas of the Yucatan are still alive in a modern form in Southern Belize. We took the Hokey Pokey water taxi over to Placencia from Independence, after discovering there was no ATM in Independence, and lived like true American tourists for two hours before returning to Independence-- we drank fruity drinks from the bar on the water and ate delicious gelato from a non-locally owned shop. I have to admit it was highly enjoyable though. The next day we boarded the ¨D-Express,¨the boat that was to take us to Honduras and experienced a little queasiness on the 2.5 hour ride to Puerto Cortes. And here we are in Honduras, loving life. Stay tuned for another episode.

Sleeping in San Jose, Guatemala

Well, trying to at least. I´m not sure how many of you reading this blog have ever had the experience of sleeping in some small, rural town in a developing country, but in my experience there tend to be certain reocurring themes such as roosters, dogs, and crickets. The following is an account of trying to sleep on our last night in San Jose.

To start things off I`ve got a little bit of a head cold which never makes sleeping easy anywhere. Having a cold I am making sure to drink a lot of water which also causes sleeping problems, namely getting up in the middle of the night and walking all the way to the outhouse, and if this isn´t enough to wake you up, the smell in there is.

Next, I can´t go to bed because my host family`s twin seven year old brothers are in my room as always asking the same questions as the night before and ringing my bike bell pretending to sell helados (ice cream). This consists of ringing the bell as loud as they can and yelling at the top of their lungs "Helados! Helados!" and running to the door outside to see if anyone is coming running to buy their helados.

As I finally get a chance to lay down, the crickets are loud enough to cause a ringing in my ears, oh wait, they are what is ringing in my ears. It´s funny when you hear them stop because only then can you really realize how loud they are in the first place. Just as I´m dozing off for the first time the rooster decides that he wants to assert himself and crows. When this happens it is never a one hit wonder. Ineveitably the rooster across the street crows next, then the domino effect continues until you can hear the faintest of crows from clear on the other side of town at which point my rooster crows-- picture the wave in a stadium. This generally lasts for about a half an hour. After the rooster has shown that he can cause the whole valley to light up with sounds, the turkey has his go, not nearly as impressive. He can´t get anyone to answer, but the turkey gobble is annoying just the same. Well I finally get to doze for at least a few minutes when there is a knock at my outside door and footsteps running off, I still have know idea who it was, but I suspect a certain set of twins. Well after this I got caught up in listening to the sounds outside waiting for the culprit to come back. They never do, but I hear plenty of people heading down the road, either walking and talking or zooming by on motorcycle, for town to take part in the feria, the town festival. Their return later in the night (early in the morning, slightly less sober, really) will also keep me from sleeping. Around this time the rooster wave starts up again but my rooster is not the instigator this time.

A little bit after the roosters, all of the dogs in town starting barking, pretty sure it wasn´t a fight, but it definitely lasts a long time. I fall asleep for just a little while and am awakened by the "bombs" of the feria. Now I know it´s 4AM, they always set off the first bomb at the same time every morning. The "bombs" (as they call them here) are not much of an exaggeration of the word, besides the destruction of course, as millions of vibrations are felt from head to toe with each bomb. Just after I doze off the closest church bell starts ringing, I counted 66 rings before it paused, then an additional 24 rings, I think this was the mark of the beginning of Semana Santa, Holy Week.

Here is where we add in Leah´s part of the story, which is essentially the same as mine but add more birds and babies. She has the great addition of some "pet" pidgeons (with what sounds like extra long toenails) that live on her tin roof. Right around 5 am, they start flapping and scratching right above her head on the tin roof that seems to multipy sound exponentially. To boot, baby Marcus (18 months old) also sleeps on the other side of a plywood partition that doen´t go all the way to the ceiling. He often likes to wake up and start playing with his toys or practice making various sounds (not words yet) at 3-3:30 am. Just before the bombs...and pidgeons.

After this sequence of cacaphony, it´s at least light out and it just makes sense to get up and start the day. Of course with a big smile on and the polite response of "bien, bien" when asked every morning by our families how we slept.

Mountain Pine Ridge and San Ignacio, Belize

Enter Pine Mountain Ridge Forest Reserve, originally uploaded by sanuzbord.

Hills, bumps, and heat best describe our 50 km ride up to Mountain Pine Ridge. We passed through two small villages, otherwise lush green forest composed the scenery until we got up to MPR where pine and granite took over the surroundings. A stark difference to the scenery we're used to here. In total, we gained around 1500 feet in elevation on bumpy dirt roads. Our legs were burning and bodies soak with sweat as the heat was relentless. We almost made it to the Douglas Da Silva Forest Station (the only place in the reserve where camping is allowed), but nightfall caught us, so we camped in the brush far off the road hoping we wouldn't be caught. That night we discovered the black flies that inhabit the area and are still scratching the many bites they left us with that night. After a night of pouring rain (and they say it's the dry season, Seattle weather must be following us), we awoke and decided to hang out and let things dry before packing up. After all, we were totally hidden from the road and no one would find us we thought. Minutes later, we began to hear the whoosh of helicopter blades and soon after saw the chopper fly right above us. Our packing up that morning commenced a little sooner and faster than we had intended. Luckily, we found out later that the chopper belonged to the British army who are training in the area and they apparently didn't care that we were camped illegally because no one said anything to us later. We spent all day at Douglas Da Silva lying things out to dry and enjoying the surroundings.

We spent the next few days exploring the Rio Frio Caves, the Caracol ruins, Rio on Pools, and Big Rock Falls. The Rio Frio Caves were filled with stalagtites and mites and the largest cave was so big a river was running through it. It had a waterfall rock formation like ones you see in Yellowstone. The next day we hitched a ride with the Belize Defense Force 25 miles down the road to Caracol. Caracol is only a few miles from the Guatemalan border and in the middle of nowhere, so there have been a lot of robberies in the area recently. As a result, the BDF escorts all tourists down to Caracol now. So, after a very vague conversation about paying for our ride, we left not knowing if we were allowed to tip of expected to. The ruins were magnificent and it was clear how big the city of Caracol was long ago as unexcavated ruins were all over the large site. We also saw some howler monkeys for the first time and realized they're much smaller than their howl makes them seem. After a very awkward game of "tip-no-tip" with the BDF and multiple trips to our campsite without ever mentioning a word about money, we paid the BDF guys and were done with the awkwardness. We left the next morning after stopping at Rio on Pools and Big Rock Falls for a refreshing swim. On our ride down it was almost as if we were leaving the Northwest and entering Central America again. We climbed a few large hills coming back, but otherwise coasted most of the way down to San Ignacio, a nice break for sure.

We have been in San Ignacio for two days now catching up with errands and internet. We made friends with a school security guard and he has let us sleep in one of the school classrooms for the weekend, so we've been enjoying sitting in chairs, showers, and overhead light at night-- the simple things have become so luxurious. Tomorrow we will head to Guatemala where we'll station ourselves at Spanish school for a bit.

Gallon Jug and The Yalbac Hills, Belize

Our incredibly generous hosts in Gallon Jug, Mike & Jill, originally uploaded by sanuzbord.

Our original plan was to leave the day after "The Gallon Jug Day," but to add icing to the cake or shall we say sprinkles to the icing, we were invited to stay another night to join in the festivities of Amanda's (Chan Chich Lodge manager and Jill's sister) birthday. There was to be a cookout and bonfire at "the escarpment." Around four we headed up to "the escarpment" which was a treat in itself. We stood upon a grassy hill high above the canopy of the surrounding forest and looked out at miles of green foliage and fog. From the escarpment we were serenaded by birds and howler monkeys. As the festivities wore on we were surprised by another treat. Dustin (brother of a Gallon Jug local and also a chef and restaurant owner in Belize City) had come armed with his secret weapon and David's favorite...BBQ ribs. And not just any BBQ ribs, but quite possibly the best BBQ ribs we've ever had. On top of that we dined on fresh ceviche, burgers with homemade buns, pasta salad, homemade veggie burgers, peanut butter cake, and of course, Belikin beer galore. We really enjoyed playing with baby Mikayla (Mike and Jill's 9 month old) and getting to know the eclectic mix of people that call Gallon Jug home-- from Michigander cat and bat scientists, tough Southern Belle mamas, and New England school teachers, to Belizean bred entrepreneurs, the night was full of flavor. To add to the fun, a rousing game of flip cup topped off the night.

Before we said our goodbyes to Gallon Jug, we checked out a nearby lagoon and got caught in a torrential downpour which ended up serving some purpose because we had a chance to clean our filthy bikes. Then, off we went down the road again with what seems to be the theme of this trip, full bellies and full hearts. Shortly before finding our camp spot in the Yalbac Hills we encountered some serious mud and a truck dashing through trying to make it without getting stuck. This of course meant for us mud splattered everywhere- clothes, hair, skin, you name it.
We couldn't spare any fresh water to clean up with so a puddle became our bathtub to get the large chunks off with. Additionally, that night of camping would prove to be our scariest yet.

To preface our fear, we have to tell you of a conversation that I (David) had with Bruce (a Gallon Jug local) the night before. Bruce didn't know which direction we were heading in next. He was telling me that once a bike tourist desiring to write a guide book had emailed him about the route we were planning to take, to San Ignacio going South through Gallon Jug and then the Yalbac Hills. Bruce had replied telling him that it would be a very bad idea to recommend this route. While the road leading from Blue Creek Village to Gallon Jug is very safe, the road from Gallon Jug to Spanish Lookout was not. You see, Gallon Jug is very close to the Guatemalan border, a country of great political unrest. Bruce knew of a couple of incidents where logging crews in the Yalbac Hills had been held up and even of a bulldozer being hijacked and taken over the border. I didn't bother telling Leah or Isai this story until the morning after we camped on the side of the road. To top things off, entering the Yalbac Hills was a sign warning "armed guards patrolling..." We found a flat spot to put our tents close to the road but mostly out of sight. Our bikes we left closer to the road, kind of our of sight, but we have plenty of reflectors that make hiding them somewhat difficult just off the road. Around midnight, I awoke to what I thought was the sound of a motor shutting off. I sat up and looked out to see nothing, but heard plenty of noises in the bushes (we were camped in the middle of the jungle after all). I woke Leah to ask her if she had heard what I heard and she hadn't. Just then we heard some big noises from the road direction. I thought for sure some Guatemalans were coming for us or our bikes. I looked outside through the tent window several times never seeing any lights, but still hearing plenty of noises. I finally made the mistake of telling Leah that I was scared. Note to self-- If I'm scared, don't tell Leah, that just makes her twice as scared. Leah and I lay there hands clutched together and hearts pounding until we finally dozed off awaking to any and all noises. But come sunrise, everything was still there and we were safe. There must have been peccaries, big cats, tapirs, you name it, it was likely walking around our tent that night.

Our restless night was exactly what we didn't need for the next day. We started the day off with what was proven to be the hardest and slowest 1 km yet...and it wasn't even up a hill. We left our camp and headed straight into the thickest and stickiest clay mud we have ever encountered. We first tried pedaling, but after 25m, the mud had collected on our tires and our fenders so thick that the wheels weren't able to turn. We each found a "mud stick" that we carried with us to push the mud out from between our fenders and tires. Our next method we attempted was to push our bikes. This ended with not only the same results for our bikes, but our shoes also collected 5 lbs of mud each AND it was harder work. The third method tried was in an area that had the absolute worst mud. At this point I looked back at both Isai and Leah and they were standing in front of their bikes facing them taking two steps backward and pulling their bikes toward them. Isai yelled to me, "I feel like I'm dealing with a stubborn mule!" It took us an hour to go that 1 km and the saddest part is that we were going so slow it didn't even register on our bike computers. We shortly thereafter climbed a hill and got to some higher drier (still muddy though) ground and picked up the pace. We arrived in Spanish Lookout plenty muddy and with bikes that weighed an extra 15 lbs. We got plenty of looks as we wandered around the grocery store with our mud splattered clothes and our extremely muddy bikes outside. We then treated ourselves to some giant sandwiches and topped it off with two pints of delicious mennonite ice cream for lunch. On our way out of Spanish Lookout we got to take a ferry that was on a cable and hand cranked by a "cranky" man who wouldn't so much as smile at us the entire way across the river. Spent the night in San Ignacio and headed out early the next morning for Mountain Pine Ridge.

The Gallon Jug Day

The stars are in alignment for us. Let us tell you about one of our "luckiest" days yet we have titled "The Gallon Jug Day." First, I'll give you a little background information on Gallon Jug, Belize (from the information that I have). The area that Gallon Jug is in is owned by Mr. Bowen, THE corporate business owner of Belize-- he owns Cocacola, Belikin Beer, Crystal water, Ford, and some other large businesses in Belize. He bought the land to preserve it and share it with tourists and also to do some experimental farming. So, an eco-lodge was built upon some Mayan ruins out here (Chan Chich) and a number of farming projects were tried or are currently in progress (corn, cacao, sugarcane, oranges, bananas, coffee, cattle, amongst others I believe). Some of the crops have been profitable, but some not so much simply because of transportation costs to export the crops out of the area. The lodge is also a premier spot for birding and attracts tourists from around the world. The communities of Gallon Jug and Sylvester Village were created as people moved out here to work on the farm and in the lodge. Currently, there are about 200 people living in this area.

To begin our lucky day, we woke up leisurely from our campspot in the Rio Bravo Conservation area and hit the road to make it to Gallon Jug by 2pm for the jaguar presentation. Shortly after we started riding we discovered that the flat road the gate watchman told us about was actually a loose gravel road with rolling hills. A slightly challenging ride at times, but the experience wasn't so bad as we were surrounded by dense forest and heard howler monkeys and lots of big things falling or scurrying away as we passed (unfortunately we couldn't see most of them as the foliage was too thick). We made it to the second gate where we would be passing onto Mr. Bowen's land and passed through without any trouble from the watchman. There we saw the British army camped out for a few months of training and the road became much less loose and more flat. However, the excitement that we felt over more solid ground was short-lived as it began to rain and the road became somewhat muddy (thus, so did we). We made it to the Gallon Jug school just in time for the presentation soaked, muddy, and a little tired. Two grad students from Virginia Tech were working with Program for Belize on tracking jaguars and other big cats in the area. They showed us some pictures of jaguars and pumas they had taken with "camera traps", a couple of which were taken a week prior exactly where we camped the night before. Timing is everything and thankfully we have had good timing on this trip so far. After the presentation, we were trying to decide whether we should move on in the rain or camp out in Gallon Jug for night when Mike, the schoolteacher we had met the day prior in Blue Creek Village invited us to stay at his house for the night. A night out of the rain and in a bed? My muscles instantly relaxed and heartrate decreased just knowing that I wouldn't have to get back in the cold rain and camp in an unknown wet spot tonight. So, of course, we decided to stay. As we chatted with Mike, his wife Jill, and another local, Jackie, we began to think about what we'd make for dinner. Would it be peanut butter, granola, and cold instant oatmeal again? Didn't sound so appetizing. Then, just before parting, Jackie offered to buy us drinks and dinner at the lodge. Our mouths were salivating before we could even respond. Someone was surely looking out for us. We got ready for our evening at the lodge by taking our first warm shower in two weeks and warming up our pallates with some fresh homemade pizza made by Jill. First pizza since leaving the states nonetheless, AMAZING. We gussied up as well as we could and slipped back on our ever-so-elegant river sandals for friday night at the Chan Chich Lodge. At the lodge we met most of the Americans living in Gallon Jug (approx. 10 or so), all who ended up here for various random reasons and all were extremely kind and welcoming. We dined on filet mignon, tomatoes with mozzarella, amongst other scrumptious goodies, and savored delicious Chilean wine to accompany our meal. We were in absolute HEAVEN and thinking about how thankful we were that we weren't eating peanut butter again. Then, our favorite course, dessert. Thoughts ran through our heads, would it be cheesecake, pie, chocolate cake, or more appropriatly flan? The waitress strolled over and very calmly said, "We only have peanut butter ice cream for dessert tonight. Is that okay?" We all looked at each other with big smiles and chuckled while the waitress stood waiting for a response unaware of our close relationship with peanut butter. We of course said that peanut butter ice cream would be fine and enjoyed every spoonful when it arrived. To end the night, we had the best 9 hours of sleep we've had in a long time (thanks to the cozy bed, and maybe the beer and wine).

So, for this amazing day of luxury and relaxation. THANK YOU to the Gallon Jug Community. Mike, Jill, Jackie, Zander, Amanda, Ben, Natalie, Jason, Carolyn, and Bruce-- your company and hospitality will never be forgotten.

Orangewalk, Indian Church, Blue Creek Village, and Rio Bravo Conservation Area

At Don Abulto's we were lucky enough to meet Eduardo, his son-in-law. His family is from Orangewalk and they were gracious enough to put us up for the night (as well as store our bikes when we took the bus back to Chetumal and feed us some great Belizean food). Also in Orange walk we met Hernan who owned the biggest bike shop in Orangewalk and also owns a cycling team, Team Typhoon. They were kind enough to check out some clicks we had on our bikes and we swapped out Leah's pedals. Our mechanic was the legendary Nissan, the #1 cyclist in Belize right now, and a really nice guy.

In the afternoon we were riding across town and saw a really neat photographic opportunity, there were 3 mennonite boys standing outside a store looking in. All three were dressed the same, black overalls and blue longsleeve shirt. I turned around to take a photo and they had started walking off. They stopped for ice cream right near where we had headed and I asked the father if I might be able to take a photo of them all. After thinking about it he said it would be no problem, and asked if he also might be able to have a copy of the photo. I told him that it is just on the computer, and suggested that if he have an address I could send it to him. I don't think they had and address as he just looked at me like I was crazy. We talked for a while before taking the photo and found out that the four kids with them (each maybe a year and half apart) were only four of TEN! The family was very shy and the father, Isaak, did all the talking. He showed us where he lives on a little map he had and we told him that we might be able to bring the photo to his family. After we took the photo we left to find a place to print it up as we were leaving town early the next morning.

Later that afternoon Leah and Isai found a route on the map that allowed us to deliver the photo, altering our original plan, but in a hugely positive way. The new way would be 90% dirt road and 100% better than taking the highway we had planned on taking (we think).

We ended up leaving town early and saying goodbye to our hosts, but not of course without getting fed first. We headed out for Indian Church, the mennonite settlement. In one of the towns we met some mennonites that showed us a good route to get to Indian Church, through some other mennonite settlements. As we rode through the settlements it was apparent that they don't get many (if any) bike tourists through those parts. Children stared, laughed, waved (only two), and one actually verbally responded to my "Aviterzen!" We disrupted tag games, the goings on at the school houses, and almost made a woman run off the road in her horse buggy as she stared at us. Some of the people would hardly give us anything but a stare, but most were friendly enough to at least smile and wave, then go back to staring. I'm not sure how they teach the kids (mostly the females) to be so stoic, but they are very good at it.

After playing cat an mouse with a few horse and buggies we found our way to Isaak's house where he was working on his tractor (yes, these mennonites have tractors, but no cars or anything else) with kids scattered about the yard. I think he was very surprised to see us and cam out with a shy smile on his face. I presented him with the photo (above) and he asked how much I owed him. I told him nothing, that it was a gift for he and his family. He accepted our gift and we talked with him for a bit. He was interested in our trip, but too shy to ask too many questions. We tried to keep the conversation going but it was a little difficult. Isaak had his son go bring us out some papayas in exchange for the photo. His son proudly stuck his chest out as he brought us four huge papayas and handed them to us. We stashed the fruit where ever we could find room and said our goodbyes and left.

As we headed out it was getting time to set up camp and we found an lot with an abandoned house and some fruit trees to sleep at for the night. Isai went wondering off as we started to unpack and came running back with a couple of bees attacking his head where he had been stung. we decided to find another spot to camp where the bees wouldn't find Isai and set up camp there. That night we enjoyed a delicious meal of velveeta mac & cheese. That night I also realized that I had done it again, I left my shants in Orangewalk...I even went back and double checked everything this time...just the wrong place.

We headed out early in the morning for San Felipe where we met Manuel who was headed into Orangewalk and gave me a lift into town. Once In Orangewalk, I ran some errands and got back to Leah and Isai before 11 AM. We headed in the direction of Blue Creek Village straight toward the hills. We wound in and out of the hills without having to climb any really until we were 2km outside of the actual town of BCV. There in front of us stood our first climb of the trip. It looked pretty menacing from below, maybe a 2km climb up an escarpment and very, very steep, especially the last part. We arrived at the top breathing the hardest we have yet and feeling pretty damn alive. I was stoked to finally be out of the flats, Leah, not so much, but she, as you all know, is tough, anyone with the nickname Pambo better be.

In BCV we were asking around for directions to Gallon Jug, our next destination, a very remote community and resort in the middle of the rainforest, we just hoped to camp close to there on our way through to San Ignacio. As we were asking around a young guy with a bunch of students in the back of a truck came out to us. He introduced himself as Mike, a school teacher out at Gallon Jug and told us that one of his students overheard us mention GJ. He gave us directions and invited us to the school the next day as there were going to be some grad students from Virginia Tech that are studying the wildcats of Belize giving a presentation. We thanked him for the offer and told him we'd try to make it.

On the way to the dirt road Isai and I had rolling races down the hills and we all had a good time with the gently undulating farmland. After a few km on the dirt road we hit a gate which was the entry to the Rio Bravo Conservation Area, pure rain forest and beautiful. The man at the gate told us that he had no problem letting us in, but there was another gate ahead after the conservation area to get into Gallon Jug and he wasn't sure if that gateman would let us through.

Riding through the rain forest was awesome. The road was pretty well maintained but the coolest part was that the trees stuck up way above us, and we got to hear the howler monkeys, birds and even some spider monkeys. We found a trail toward dusk and went off on it to go set up camp. Unfortunately that night we didn't have any wildcat sightings but we did see the coolest ant colony I have ever seen. I decided that ants are really awesome, as long as they are organized ants that are just crawling all over the place and not biting me. We saw their trails stretching way out, all the mounds and air holes and entrances and the leaf cutter ants marching along with their leaves and the army ants (2-3X bigger than the leaf ants) going 2-3x faster than all the others stepping on top of them. It was just fascinating to watch them (come on guys, it's the simple things in life that count). That night we enjoyed a delicious dinner of prunes, baked beans (Isai's least favorite thing in the world), and melted Reeces peanut butter blobs for dessert, we were living it up! All this was to change the next day though...