Passing time in timeless Guajiquiro, Honduras

We decided that leaving our tent out for the cows to kick and the dogs to pee on wasn't the best option so we packed everything up and headed to the safest place in town, the police station. They locked up our bikes for safe keeping and we headed off for another type of overland journey, walking on the mountain trails headed for another aldea (small settlement). We were headed to Pueblo Nuevo for the day, which, as people were quick to tell us, was a long ways off, and over that next set of hills that we could see. We headed off with our lunch, water, and soap (since we'd be encountering a river and hadn't bathed in a couple of days). The trail started with a steep drop into to the canyon below Guajiquiro and we soon ran into some traffic, mule traffic that is. What was amazing was that the surefooted older man, Cervelio, and his mules were coming from BEHIND us, moving faster than us (even though they were loaded up), coming from farther back than us, and headed even farther than we were, 20 kms away-- and this was his usual bimonthly supply trip! His mules were pretty well trained too, he had no need for a rope as they would just follow him, stop when he stopped and go when he went. Like some of the other people in the town he asked us if we were working in Guajiquiro and we were confused again until he mentioned the "Cuerpo de Paz." Finally it registered, the Peace Corps had a presence here. He told us that there was a volunteer that lived right there in Guajiquiro. We were excited at the prospect of meeting a volunteer of the area to get an insiders view, as we really had none but what we could see with our own eyes (and limited Spanish skills). As we continued on the trail we found that folks passing us was often the case, even when we passed a young couple (maybe 17 years old) with the girl appearing to be 8 months pregnant. We made our way to the river and decided that right under the bridge would be the best place to bathe. It was a nice, cool, clear mountain stream at the bottom of a hot canyon and provided some much welcome refreshment, and cleanliness. Unfortunately the cleanliness didn't last so long as we were again sweat drenched within minutes of leaving the shade of the bridge. As we continued along the path we encountered a few more people all headed to various places and on various missions, but all had at least one thing in common, they were headed somewhere hours away. Throughout the journey we felt that we were a part of some secret society of people that journey through the rugged hills of Honduras, each on their own quest. We were united by the fact that we were all walking the hills, although each took different routes, but as we passed each other and looked into each other's eyes there was an apparent mutual understanding of the other's experience. Each time we passed someone and exchanged one of the numerous greetings, such as "Que le vaya bien!" ("That it goes well with you!"), we would also ask the other where they were headed, comment on the heat and head off in our separate directions. It was apparent, however, that we had missed the initiation ceremony to the secret society as we did not don the proper equipment: an extra large radio with a strap worn around the neck blasting music and an extra long machete carried in a beautiful leather sheath complete with tassles and other adornments (at least ten pieces of flair required:) ).We reached our destination and continued a little farther to where it looked like there might be a good vista and we sat down on some cliffs to look west. As we munched on our lunch, we realized that we were looking at El Salvador and more shockingly, the Pacific Ocean! We had biked almost entirely across Central America (far from a great feat, but a cool realization at the time.) We headed back to Guajiquiro on another mission, a cold beverage, which we searched out with rabid ferocity (I'm sure you understand how we felt Billie and Cole). We soon discovered however that there was only one place in town with a fridge as it is usually so cold up there (by their standards) that room temperature is plenty cold for the average Joe. After satisfying our thirst with some 7Up from a glass bottle we went to find Landon Karr, the infamous Peace Corps volunteer that everyone seemed to know about. We just happened to get lucky because he had just returned from Tegucigalpa that afternoon from a week long trip and was completing his two years of service in just two weeks. Spending the rest of the evening and well into the night talking to Landon was a real treat. He gave us much insight on a variety of subjects including but not limited to: international aid and development work, local history & geography, life as a peace corps volunteer, water systems of the Guajiquiro municipality, dangerous areas of Honduras (some of which we had already passed through), local dating customs, and what we found to be the most entertaining, the description of the typical modern day Guajiquiro wedding. Landon was kind enough to let us throw our sleeping bags on his floor for a good nights sleep before departing in the am. Prior to leaving town, we attended the Sunday market and stocked up on produce and tortillas while absorbing the activities of the local people interacting in the market. Up and down hills we went to La Paz (although mostly down with a couple of STEEP uphills) where we stopped for the night. En route, we also dealt with our second flat tire of the trip, quite notable considering we had traveled over 2300 km.